There was a lone SUV in the lot, and I pulled in beside it, seeing a tall woman with short brown hair walking out of the back door. I reached over to grab the kitten, listening to its one meek little squeak and holding it close to my chest as I opened the door.
My boots crunched on the gravel as I stepped closer to the lady, shushing the kitten. She had beautiful dark eyes that were opened wide. I didn’t mean to alarm her, but it wasn’t like my tires squealed as I pulled in the lot with my light and sirens blazing. I lifted my hand in greeting, taking in her green scrubs and slender legs.
“Miss?”
In the parking lot lights, her features were clearer. Those big brown eyes were bright with flecks of hazel and got larger the longer I stood, and her brown hair was closer to auburn, barely touching her shoulders. Her narrow waist that tapered to curvy hips made my mouth water.
Touching her shoulder, she shook her head, coming back from wherever her mind had gone.
“Miss…” I stepped toward her. “Are you okay?”
After what felt like an eternity, she smiled.
“Yes, thank you. We’re closed for the day, but is there something I can help you with?”
Her voice sounded sweet and assuring, like sticky salt-water taffy after a day at the beach. She offered me her hand to shake, and I took it, shaking firmly. Her hand was soft, but her grip was firm. She held my eyes confidently and tilted her head, waiting for me to respond.
“Yes, ma’am. My name is Officer Mark Hansen, and I apologize for the late hour, but I have a tiny problem and need assistance.”
The kitten chose that moment to peek its head out from my hand and hiss, showing a row of tiny teeth. The woman shook her head and let go of my hand, looking down where it was rested in my hoodie.
I prided myself on being aloof, but I didn’t want to be that way with her for some weird reason. I felt something deep in my chest when I looked at her, something that made my blood heat and my palms sweat. Something that I forced myself to ignore as she leaned closer to the kitten.
“I’m Doctor Jenna Crews. Oh, and what do we have here, Officer Handsome? Er, um. Officer Hansen, I mean.”
Even in the dim light, I couldn’t miss the pink that crept up her neck. My inner caveman beat his chest at her accidental admission, and I puffed out said chest as I stretched my hand out. The kitten demon-spawn hissed again, and she pushed her purple framed glasses up with a grin.
Doctor Jenna Crews? More like Doctor Cutie-Pie.
“Yes. Dr. Cutie, I mean Crews.” Teasing her, unable to keep the smile from my face. “I found this kitten and was hoping you’d take it off my hands since the shelters are closed.”
“Yes, I see. Unfortunately, we are not in a position to take in stray animals, but I’m glad you didn’t take it to a shelter.”
My face fell as she reached out and picked up the kitten by the scruff of its neck, silencing another hiss. It tried to bat at her with weak paws, but she put her other hand on her hip and brought the kitten to her face, turning it this way and that.
“You hush. Quit acting like you have a pair.”
“Why are you glad I didn’t take the hell-spawn to a shelter?”
She turned around, still focused on the hissing spitfire, and reached into her backpack.
“Because black cats have one of the lowest adoption rates of all felines. People have the preconceived notion they are bad luck, so nobody wants them. It’s horrible.”
Well shit.
“I’ll check her over.” She lifted the kitten higher. “Yep, it’s a girl, but she’s tiny, Officer Hansen, and looks weak. She can’t stay here. We don’t have anyone on staff overnight tonight.”
Damnit.
“She doesn’t seem weak with the way she’s hissing at you. Shouldn’t vets have animal skills?”
That kitten was doing everything in its power to scramble away from her, but she didn’t seem to be taken back by my abruptness. It lit a fire under her, and she narrowed her eyes and glared.
“Ugh, it’s just cats. Freaking cats hate me. And shouldn’t cops be a little less cliché? You’re a walking advertisement for a bad seventies’ porno with that mustache. What do you really use your big flashlight for?” She gestured to the light strapped to my utility belt.
I unclipped the light and held it up for her to see before flipping it in the air and catching it. I hit it against my palm, making her jump, then leaned down and met her eyes.
“Trust me. There is nothing cliché about any of my equipment.”
