I chuckle, and then my mind circles back to that part about them saving animals. “Hey, weird question for you, but since you’re a warden, do you know anything about why there was someone from the avian rehab center at the pub that night?”
“Yeah. I called them to pick up an injured juvenile seagull.”
“This is probably a long shot, but do you remember if that seagull had any distinguishing markings on it? Say, maybe a bullseye around one of his eyes?”
“Yes. The gull had those markings,” he notes, his brows knit. “He had an injured wing. Likely from a fight with another bird. He has been healed of his injuries, but he still cannot be released into the wild. He likely never will be. The gull has become too reliant on humans.”
“Where is he now, do you know?”
“The last update I have from the sanctuary is that he is with a private wildlife rehabilitator, they are still trying to work with him. He would not be a good fit for the animal park down in Gray. It’s not at all like his normal habitat there.”
“Would it be possible to adopt him? Someone like me, I mean…”
“You would need to apply for a special permit through the Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife and meet a large number of certain requirements. Maine has some of the strictest laws in the nation regarding the possession of wildlife.”
I nod. “But permits are granted though, right? Like, if someone could prove that they could care for that specific animal?”
Levi’s lips thin, and he narrows his eyes at me. “I don’t suppose you have a reason you are requesting ownership of this particular habituated bird, do you?”
My eyes flick around the room, nervously trying to concoct an explanation that doesn’t involve the fact that I willingly allowed Gulligan into my apartment time and time again—because, after Gannett moved out of my apartment, Gulligan was all I had left of him. Fuck, Ibondedwith that bird.
As if summoned by the topic of conversation at hand, Gannett choosesnowto come strolling into the bakery, hand-in-hand with both of the girls. He beams when he spies me, and I know, in aninstant, I’m going to be contacting the IF&W as soon as we get back home so I can surprise him with Gulligan.
I turn my attention back to Levi. “Have you ever done anything crazy for the love of your life?” I ask him.
He takes a moment to think about that, glancing over to his boy—who is currently charming the hell out of both Gannett’s girls—and then he grins. “As a matter of fact, I have…”
I’m fucking stressed. Two major pieces of gym equipment have broken tonight, and I’m struggling to get the hang of this new payroll software. The one I used to use at the bar was umpteen times easier than whatever the fuck this shit is that Micah used to use. No wonder he wanted out of here so goddamn bad.
Add to that, I’m already overwhelmed with emotions brought on by visiting my mother’s hometown last weekend, and I haven’t really been able to process them privately since returning. I hadn’t wanted to spoil the girls’ first camping trip, but it’s been a lot to keep bottled up. I know Gannett and Dr. Goucher would both be there for me to unload on, but I just—fuck, it’s just hard to put into words sometimes.
Finally, like a cherry on this shit sundae I’m currently being served, someone brushed their teeth in the locker room, and I happened to walk straight in after. They used mint toothpaste.
Fuck.
I’m practically vibrating with anxiety, that pins and needles sensation creeping in. The band of constriction is starting to gain a chokehold around my ribs. My hands start balling into fists as I stalk overto my locker, yanking out my hand wraps, and making my way out to the fighting mats.
The heavy bag will have to do for tonight, I guess.
“Hey,” Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy as hell says, as he plops his gym bag down on the floor.
Okay, so maybe I won’t have to settle for the bag after all.
“I like that you made the code to the new keypad my birthday,” he muses, smirking. “The VIP, after-hours access doesn’t hurt either.”
I grunt by means of a response.
His eyes rake over me. “What’s got you all wound up tighter than a top?”
“Whole buncha shit,” I grumble. He steps closer to me, his hand reaching out for mine, but I back up, shaking my head. “Don’t.”
Instead of getting offended and backing off like I warned him to—because he’s Gannett, stubborn as fuck—he takes another step towards me, his chest puffing up.
“Gannett, I said fuckingdon’t,” I caution him again.
He reaches out, tugging the wraps out of my hands and discarding them on the floor. “You don’t think Iknowyou by now, Gordy?” he asks, his voice low and steady, sending a shiver of arousal down my spine. “You don’t think I haven’t seen you going all dark and broody on me this week? I’ve let you sit on it for a few days, hoping you would snap out of your funk on your own, but enough is enough.”
He leans in even further, running the tip of his nose up my neck, a strip of goosebumps rising in its wake. His hot breaths fanning on my sensitive skin. “You either fuck me, fight me, or both—but you get it out of your system, right here, tonight,” he whispers in my ear.
