What’s New Pussycat(2)

Martine opened her mouth wide and yawned.

Derrick ran a hand over his jaw, littered with dark stubble she wanted to rub against. Which, of course, made her a dirty, dirty whore. But so be it. It had, after all, been six months since she’d had contact with a man. With anyone, for that matter.

Now, because the universe was LOL lately, a sinfully good-looking man had rescued her. One who potentially had nefarious intentions and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

Derrick looked to Max. “So…shapeshifter, ya think?”

JC rolled her eyes at him, moving to the edge of the couch. “Oh, wait, I know what we should do,” she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Let’s play a guessing game instead of just asking her? You know, seeing as she’s in the room with you.” Leaning forward, she popped open the gate on the front of the carrier.

Derrick jumped up, his hand moving to snap the door shut, but JC whipped a finger in the air. “Leave it open! For the love of Pete, she’s not a saber-toothed tiger. She’s a cat, Derrick. You’re behaving like you’ve never encountered another species of the paranormal. Max told me you have vampires here in Cedar Glen, but you’re afraid of a cat?”

Derrick sat back, his pretty face turning hard. “I’m not afraid of a cat, but we don’t know if she’s just a cat. I’m just taking precautions because with the paranormal, you just never know.”

Okay, so JC was definitely a human, Derrick and Max were paranormal. Good to know. And they were in Cedar Glen. As in, New Jersey? Like farms and cows and trailer hitches?

Um, no. That wasn’t going to work. She was a city girl through and through. New York forever. No disrespect to the people who hoed the fields or tilled the lands or whatever they did in the country, but she liked city living.

Because you’ve done so much of that lately? Living, that is.

JC slipped off the couch and peered into the carrier, but she didn’t do it as though she were leering at some alien life form.

She smiled at Martine with a flash of white teeth and red lips. “You come out when you’re ready. Until then, I promise to help Neanderthal Derrick use his big-boy words to communicate. Deal?”

Martine decided poking her head out probably wouldn’t get her killed. She sniffed the room, taking in her first full view of how breathtaking this house she’d landed in really was. Windows spanned an entire wall, with a magnificent view of all varieties of trees, and there was a fireplace in the living room from floor to ceiling that was to die for. One a girl could curl right up by on a cold winter night.

JC sat back on the couch and looked at the men with a smile of satisfaction. “So, introductions. I’m JC Jensen, the Neanderthal is Derrick Adams, and the man next to me is Derrick’s brother Max. You’re in Cedar Glen, New Jersey.”

She let one paw touch the coffee table then another, wary as she listened to JC speak.

“You do realize you’re talking to a cat, right, J?” Derrick asked.

JC made a face at him. “You do realize that while your brother pretended to be my dog during our courtship, I talked to him all the time, don’t you? So quit waving your crazy stick at me like I’m the one who flew the freak flag first, buddy.”

Come again? This man Max, who looked like he’d eat your face off if you looked at him the wrong way, pretended to be her dog? What kind of kinkety-kink was that?

Derrick’s face tightened before looking at Martine and then he sobered, directing his gaze at his brother. “So again I ask, what now? I don’t get where I go from here.”

Max ran a hand through his dark hair. “Maybe you should explain why she’s here? I mean, to her.”

JC smiled and patted Max’s thigh with approval.

Derrick rolled his head on his neck, the crack of his bones sharp as he rocked it from side to side. Like he was preparing for a boxing match instead of a simple explanation. “Do you think she’s ready to hear why she’s here?”

JC leaned toward her again, her eyes warm and sympathetic. “I’m going to be honest with you. Girl to girl. This part’s a little hairy—the explanation, I mean. Literally and figuratively. But I promise you it’ll be okay. It might take some time before it’s okay, but it’ll be okay.”

Martine cocked her head, following the line of her whiskers to look at Derrick, waiting as she inched her way completely out of the carrier.

“Maybe we should wait until she shifts?” Max asked. “You can’t have a conversation if she’s not in her human form.”

“We don’t even know if she has a human form,” Derrick responded, clenching his fists. “Maybe this is some kind of flub in the prophecy?”