Part 9 (1/2)
His gut clenched and the cheeseburger he'd eaten for lunch settled heavily on his stomach as he crossed to his foreman. What he saw set his teeth on edge.
”Guess we know the culprit,” the foreman said.
Every muscle in Mike's body went tight. Al otted an hour for lunch, his crew had formed the walkway, poured the concrete, then dispersed while it set. Sixty minutes was just enough time for a deviant goat to do damage.
Houdini bores easily. Norah's words. .h.i.t him hard.
The goat was at it again. The little buck had broken from his pen and crossed the parking lot. Instead of a child's handprints marking a special occasion, Houdini had set his front hooves in the cement and turned in circles. He'd then trotted down the ful stretch of the sidewalk. The goat's trail was warm and easy to track.
Mike stormed Norah's Arc.
He found the zookeeper in Houdini's pen, hosing off the buck's hooves. Norah was on her knees, her wild auburn curls caught in a ponytail. His gaze swept the smooth curve of her shoulders, then lingered on her slim waist and sweet round bottom. Twenty-four hours, and the memory of her kiss seduced him. His jeans grew uncomfortably snug. He s.h.i.+fted his stance. Twice.
The pygmy goat's bleat drew his thoughts off Norah and back to the sidewalk. There were no tourists in sight, so he swung open the gate and entered the pen. ”Was.h.i.+ng away the evidence?” He growled.
She looked up, her expression as guilty as Houdini's.
”Your goat owes me forty feet of 'crete,” he told her. ”He's d.a.m.n lucky the cement was stil wet, otherwise the industrial park would have a permanent statue of a goat at its entrance.”
Nora set the hose aside and pushed to her feet. ”Houdini heard the cement truck arrive. Sounds interest him,” she defended her goat. ”The loud whirl of the mixer left him curious.”
curious.”
”There was a lot of heavy machinery in the parking lot this morning,” he returned, a hard edge to his voice. ”Not everyone's on the lookout for your pygmy goat.”
He caught Norah's s.h.i.+ver, knew her heart would break if anything happened to Houdini. ”Why weren't you watching him? How'd he escape?” he demanded.
”I have staff checking on Houdini throughout the day. He slipped past the last person on duty.” Her sigh was heavy. ”I was with the potbel y pigs, recycling water for Pudding and Pie's mud hole, when one of the workers notified me that he'd disappeared. By the time I got to Houdini's pen and found where he'd dug under the fence, he'd returned. His hooves were caked in fresh cement. I grabbed the hose and washed him down.”
While Houdini'd had a grand old time, Mike Kraft was visibly ticked. The man was al dark eyes, tightened jaw, and gunning for goat.
Norah's heart had quickened when he'd entered the pen.
Their attraction held strong.
She didn't, however, have the words to pacify him.
”Houdini's cost my company time and money,” Mike stated. ”This can't continue.”
”I'l reimburse you,” she quickly offered.
”You'l go broke paying off Houdini's debt.”
She licked her lips. ”We're sorry.”
”How sorry?” His gaze held on her mouth. He looked mad as hel , in an aroused, might-kiss-her sort of way.
Her throat worked.
And her tummy went tight.
She locked her knees to keep standing.
He leaned in, as if drawn to her.
His breath brushed one corner of her mouth.
Antic.i.p.ation sparked, hot as the afternoon sun.
Her eyelids lowered.
Her lips parted.
And Mike pul ed back.
A curse broke as he gained control. Jamming his hands in the pockets of his jeans, he cut her one last look. ”Keep your goat penned.”
Norah watched him walk away, al straight spine, stiff legs, and significant erection. He had a great body. Big, strong, impressive. Too bad he was so anti-goat.
Moments later, a young girl came to stand by the fence.
She held out her hand, offering Houdini a smal oatmeal and mola.s.ses baked biscuit, sold for a quarter at the Food Arc.
A delighted bleat and Houdini trotted to the fence. With the greatest care, the little buck took the al -natural treat.
The girl's father took a dozen pictures of his daughter feeding Houdini. The buck nuzzled the girl's hand, his coa.r.s.e hair tickling her palm and making her laugh. Norah's chest swel ed. Albeit a scamp, Houdini could be sweet.
Too bad Mike Kraft believed him delinquent.
Houdini was twenty pounds of trouble.
The goat needed a ful -time keeper.
Two days had pa.s.sed, and the buck was at it again, causing Mike Kraft yet another headache and delay in construction.
The paper trail told Mike al he needed to know. Houdini had once again escaped his pen and made mischief. A set of architectural plans had gone missing.
It had al gone down within fifteen minutes. Mike had left his temporary office to speak with his foreman. He'd left the drawings with al his notations spread across his desk. The door had been wedged for ventilation.
On his return, the door stood ful y ajar. Six architectural sheets had disappeared. The tiled floor was littered with tiny bits of paper, al chewed up and spit out.
To fuel the fire, the buds on a bouquet of flowers he'd bought Norah as a peace offering fol owing their last argument had been chomped off. Petals from the smal sunflowers and deep blue iris lay strewn on the floor. Only the green stems remained in the crystal vase. Nibbling had untied the azure gauze bow.
A coa.r.s.e caramel-colored hairbal closed the case on Houdini. How could such a smal goat make such a big mess?
Norah Archer had promised to keep Houdini penned.