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Scorpio by Lauren Landish (14)

Chapter 14

Madison

Daily Horoscope, October 6th

Libra – Exposing your hidden treasure means risking it to a thief. Hiding it forever means no one enjoys the bounty, not even you.

I read Tiff’s texted version of my daily horoscope, along with her encouragement to Share that hidden treasure, bitch, and getcha some! I laugh out loud. That girl cracks me up every time. So I text her back a GIF of an opening treasure chest with a pirate proclaiming he’s going to ‘take my booty’. I barely have time to hit Send before Scott opens the door to my car and climbs in.

“Thanks for letting me pick you up.”

Scott chuckles, looking over from the passenger seat of my car and carefully adjusting his feet. Unfortunately, the lever to move the seat isn’t working, so it’s stuck at Tiff size, and Tiffany is about six inches shorter than Scott. “Well, you said I’d end up with dog hair on me and that it’d be hard on my car. Besides, it lets me get chauffeured around by a hot chick instead of the old-timer who sometimes drives me around.”

His humor makes me laugh, and I feel a little relieved. I was surprised at first when he said he was willing to take a day off in the middle of the week to go with me to Aunt May’s shelter, but it’s the best option, considering my schedule. And yeah, the irony that my shitty bartending job, not his high-powered corporate job, is dictating our dates is not lost on me.

“So, here we are,” I say as I pull up in front. “What do you think?”

“Looks . . . industrial,” Scott says, opening his door. “I’m guessing the dogs don’t get bottled water?”

It takes a double-take for me to get that he’s joking, and I chuckle. “Okay, quickly before we go in. Try not to raise your voice or make any sudden movements. Some of the animals here come from abusive homes, and it could undo a lot of work we’ve done to rehabilitate them.”

“Gotcha. Be extra-nice to the pups.”

I nod, grinning. “Good. Also, you’re going to have to get your hands dirty. Anyone who’s afraid to get a little dirt under their fingernails or some dog poop on their shoe won’t make it here. Think you can handle that?”

Scott laughs. “Pretty sure I’m washable, and new experiences, remember? Anything else?”

I love that when we’d agreed to ‘new experiences’ together, it wasn’t one-sided where he’s whisking me away like some fairy tale, even though I know he’d truly like to. He’s making an effort to try my favorite things too, even if they’re low-brow and simple. He even watched Friends with Tiff and me a couple of nights ago through FaceTime because he was still at work. He’d genuinely laughed at the show and claimed he was going to have to watch from Season One to catch up. I’d just been delighted at his laugh. The way it rumbled made my belly flip-flop in the best way. When he’d had to get back to work, I was this close to surprising him for a repeat of our first date. Maybe help him take the edge off with a desktop fucking, but he was working against a deadline and I wanted to respect his need to work, so I’d stayed home.

“Yeah . . . watch out for Aunt May. She’s feisty.”

Scott raises an eyebrow. “And you aren’t?”

I chuckle and open the gate. “You’ll see.”

Inside, the fusillade of barks that greets us tells us everyone’s feeling good, and May comes out of the dog wash station, her hands wet and her t-shirt plastered to her. “Well, now, this must be that man you were promising to show me!”

I blush and handle the introductions. “Aunt May, this is Scott Danger. Scott, this is my Aunt May.”

“So nice to meet Maddie’s new boyfriend,” May gushes, offering her slightly pruney hand.

“Aunt May.”

“It’s okay,” Scott says, shaking the offered hand firmly. “If Madison wants to call me her boyfriend, I consider it an honor. She says lovely things about you too, and I can see why.”

May blushes a little. I’ve never seen May blush before. She’s pretty battle-hardened and doesn’t tolerate bullshit easily. “I see why Maddie likes you. You’re smooth. Before you get to thinking I’m an easy sell, though, what are your intentions with my niece?”

I feel like I’m about to die of embarrassment, but Scott chuckles. “If I told you the truth, you’d slap me. If I lied, you’d know I’m lying. I think I’ll just not answer and ask where the pooper scooper is.”

May laughs, winking at me and whispering out of the side of her mouth. “Yep, this one is smooth as silk.” She turns back to Scott. “Good answer, young man. Now, as for work, the poop scooping comes later. For now, let’s get you on food distribution duty while I deal with poor Furby over here.”

“What’s wrong with him?” I ask, looking at the sad-looking Shih-Tzu. “Oh, dear.”

“He looks . . . matted,” Scott says, squatting down slowly and offering Furby his hand for a sniff. His voice is soft, soothing as he talks to the dog. “Where have you been, little fella?”

“Kept outside on a chain collar,” May says grimly, picking up a pair of scissors. “He’s real sensitive around his neck, and I think he’s got some of that chain twisted up in his fur. I need to get the rest of these knots out and get him dipped. He’s a one dog walking flea infestation right now.”

“Can we lend a hand?” I ask, but May shakes her head. “Food?”

“The babies are hungry,” May says. “You two are my only volunteers today, so we need to scoot to get everything done.”

May trims carefully at a knot that’s about the same diameter as a tennis ball before lifting it away from Furby, who licks her hand plaintively as she tosses it into the trash. “Come on,” I quietly tell Scott, who looks concerned.

We head through to the bigger kennel area, and I show him around. “Okay, there are four color tags on the doors. They match the four colors of food container.”

“Why four kinds?” Scott asks, and I point out why as I explain.

“Puppies . . . smaller kibble pieces for small mouths. Regular adult food, just your regular dog food. Then there’s the basic ingredient food for the dogs with sensitive stomachs, and finally, our seniors and dental-challenged ones. They get a scoop and then their food is soaked with water to soften it so they can chew it easily.”

“Dental-challenged?” Scott asks, and I nod, leading him down to Duchess, a beautiful Dalmatian that’s been with us for about four weeks. Going inside, I pet her carefully before having her lie down, and I lift her outer lip. “She’s got no teeth.”

Scott comes in, giving me a supportive look as he rubs Duchess’s tummy. “She’s a sweet little baby. Looks like she’s had puppies too.”

“She didn’t come in with any, but it does look that way,” I reply, standing up. “But Duchess is a sweetheart, and once she’s fixed and all her shots are up to date, we’re going to get her a good home.”

We get started, and it’s heartwarming to watch Scott interact with the dogs. Some volunteers only pay attention to the cute dogs. But Scott has a kind word for all of them, rubbing heads when they let him and even kneeling down to get a few belly scratches in.

More than once, I see him looking over at me as I talk with the dogs, a strange look on his face. “What is it?”

“Just . . . someday, you’re going to make a great mother,” he says, smiling gently.

I turn away with a smile, unable to contain my blush as we keep feeding the pups.

“So, now what?” he asks as he looks over the kennel. “They look like they’ll be busy for a while.”

“Now we get to take care of the other end of things,” I joke, handing him a plastic bucket and a small shovel. “This is the fun part.”

Scott doesn’t complain and takes the poop kit with firm hands. “Where do I start?”

“I’ll show you,” I answer, picking up my own kit. “Don’t worry, it’s not too bad.”

We’re about ten minutes into the job when May comes out and waves me over. “Hey, Aunt May. How’s Furby?”

May nods her head. “Good, good. The chain was in a tangle and not embedded in the skin, thank goodness. He’ll be all right soon enough.” As she talks, her eyes watch Scott. “How’s he doing?”

I glance over at him, admitting, “Working hard. He’s doing everything exactly like I ask, and I swear the grass looks spotless where he’s scooped.”

May looks at me. “He seems like something else. How serious are you two? This isn’t exactly a first-date kind of thing.”

She isn’t saying anything that I haven’t asked myself a million times since all this started. I don’t know if Scott is playing a game, but he’s damned good at it if he is.

“I don’t know, Aunt May. He’s pursuing me pretty hard, pretty fast. I keep pinching myself and warning my heart that I’m going to wake up any moment and find out all this is a dream. Because this isn’t like me, and he admits that it sure as hell isn’t like him either. Not sure what that means.”

May pats me on the back, smiling. “I think it means that it’s something different and exciting for both of you. So don’t get in your own way. Just enjoy it . . . whatever it is, for however long it lasts. If he’s just after your body, give it willingly and often. If he’s after your heart, give it cautiously and slowly.”

My eyebrows shoot up when she basically tells me to have sex with him, but her advice about being careful with my heart is spot-on. And timely, because I suspect he’s taking big chunks of it without my even realizing it.

She pats me on the shoulder. “Anyway, when you two are done out here, I need your help with some paperwork and Scott can give the puppies some attention. We’ll introduce him to Maple and Syrup too, see if he passes their exam.”

I nod, leaving and going back to Scott, who’s scooping up another happy package. “So . . . you two done talking about me?”

“What?” I ask, heat creeping up my neck. “We weren’t—”

“Liar.”

I glare at him open-mouthed. “Did you just call me a liar?” I mean, he’s right, but damn . . .

“Yep,” he says, popping the P sound. He grins and crowds into me, taking my mouth in a quick smack before talking quietly into my ear. “This isn’t a dream. And I like May’s advice about giving yourself to me willingly and often.”

I lean back, gobsmacked again. “You heard?”

“Every word,” he says, laughing. “You think it took me that long to scoop this big pile of shit? I was staying close by to hear you two gossiping about me. Insider information can be quite valuable,” he says sagely.

I can’t help but burst out laughing. “Well played, Mr. Danger. As for that big pile, it’s probably from Biggie, the Newfie you saw inside. Big dog, bigger poops.”

“Yeah, well, I think I’ve had enough of this side of the job,” Scott says, holding up his full bucket. “So where do we dump?”

I show him the main barrel, explaining when he lifts an eyebrow, “May helps make ends meet by selling the barrel to a local organic farm. You know, fertilizer and all. It’s sort of a virtuous cycle.”

“A stinky ass cycle,” Scott grumbles, emptying his bucket. “Okay, so now what?”

“Now, I’ve got some paperwork to help May with, and you get puppy play duty,” I reply.

“I like playing with puppies.” Scott leers, reaching for my chest and making me laugh, backing up.

“Not those! Down, boy, before I have to put you on a leash.”

Scott stops, shaking his head. “Not likely. Listen, after that, how about we go somewhere?”

“Where?” I ask, intrigued and excited. This day isn’t over yet, it seems.

“It’s a surprise. But trust me . . . you’ll like it.”

* * *

We spend the afternoon hanging out . . . chatting while walking along the sidewalks of Bane. Later, I easily sweet talk Scott into visiting my favorite food truck, where he jokingly whined about the long line, telling me the food had better be worth it. I’d laughed, knowing it definitely was, but when Scott proclaimed to have fallen in love with the smoky brisket bar-b-que sandwich, I was absurdly jealous of the sandwich . . . for being in his hands, on his mouth, and apparently in his heart. Stupid, but true, even if I’d shaken my head at my own weirdness, concerned I might be jumping in a bit deeper than I’d thought but somehow wanting to swim out even further.

It’s getting late when Scott finally says it’s time for his promised surprise. I follow his directions carefully, climbing higher and higher above Bane on a deserted road I’ve never been on. “So, is this the part where the charmer reveals his true psychopathic nature and takes me out to the boonies for nefarious reasons?” I tease.

Scott looks at me, his eyes twinkling as he holds back a laugh, but he plays along. “Perhaps it is, but what sort of bad guy would I be if I told you all my evil plans?” He scans up and down my body, and I think I might like whatever evil plans he’s got judging by the goosebumps that break out along my flesh from the caress of just his eyes.

He holds the straight face for a beat longer and then we both laugh, the joke broken, along with the heated spell. “It’s just up here. Turn right, and . . .”

“Oh my god, it’s gorgeous!” I squeal, slamming on the brakes. Through the maze of turns, Scott has taken me to an overlook point, and the night sky stretches out far and wide before us, the stars and moon lighting up Bane in a way that makes it look special and twinkly.

“Come on . . .” Scott tells me, opening his door to get out. I follow his lead, getting out too but I reach into the back seat and grab a blanket. Sure, there’s dog hair on it, but there’s dog hair on us too, so it’ll do. When Scott sees the blanket, he gives an approving nod so I spread it out on the ground in front of us and we sit down.

“There’s the Danger building . . . kinda hard to miss that. I think I can see my apartment too though. See that little flicker? That’s the streetlight outside our place that never works right.” I grin as Scott leans in, resting his chin on my shoulder to follow the line of sight to where I’m pointing.

We spend the next several minutes deciphering landmarks here and there before finally giving up and laying back to do the same thing to stars in the sky above us.

“So, let’s start easy,” Scott says. “Dippers . . . big and little?” I point to the Big Dipper, then the Little Dipper.

“Too easy. Orion?” I ask. Scott searches for a moment, then points out the three stars of Orion’s Belt and traces the shape of The Hunter in the sky. “Right next to Orion is Scorpius . . . the scorpion. Do you know that story?”

I shake my head, interested even though the scorpion thing still gives me a bit of the willies. Damn Marie planting that nugget of fear about something that hadn’t even been a blip on my radar.

“Mythology says that Orion was a boastful, bragger type that claimed to be able to kill any animal. Mother Earth didn’t care for that and sent a giant scorpion to kill him. Zeus put Orion in the sky as a reminder, and the scorpion next to him to chase him for all eternity.” Scott tells the story well, and a small part of me can see him as the scorpion sent to punish the arrogant Orion. It makes Marie’s prediction both more and less scary . . . as long as Scott is hunting me for some fun punishment, I could be in to that.

“I’m a Libra, no fun animal in the night sky for me. Tiff told me that Libras are the only Zodiac in the sky represented by an inanimate object. I get scales . . . borrrring.” I say, my hands motioning like weighing scales going up and down.

Scott grins and takes my hand, stopping the movement, “Not boring . . . balance. A little bit this way . . .” he says, pressing towards me and planting a chaste kiss to the corner of my mouth. “A little bit that way . . .” he continues, pulling back and I instinctively chase after him, kissing him but he pulls away. Finally, he leans forward and meets me in the middle, perfectly balanced between us so that neither of us are tilted too far. His words are soft, breathy. “But never overdoing it either direction.” And he covers my mouth in a kiss, the kiss I’ve been wanting all night.

His kiss is hot, fire invading my mouth with his tongue and I burn willingly and beautifully, the flames reaching higher and higher as he stokes my desire expertly. I may be the Zodiac of balance, but he’s the one that knows how to keep me right on the edge . . . loving right where we are, never wanting it to stop, but desperately wanting more, so much more of him.

I feel like my scale may be tilting dangerously his direction. Way too soon, way too fast. And I don’t know how to stop the shift, don’t know if I want to. But a tiny voice in the back of my head echos . . . suffer and then you shall burn.