SBC Fighter: Tails Of Love Part 9

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 shifted 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. "Washing 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 shiver, 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.

She hadn't kept her word. The pygmy goat had escaped a third time.

Mike fol owed the paper trail, across the parking lot and along the brick sidewalk of the petting zoo. He came upon Houdini and Norah at the exact moment the zookeeper discovered the buck's thievery. Her eyes were wide and one hand covered her heart. She appeared horrified Houdini had shredded page after page of diagrams.

The goat's ability to drag six rol ed sheets of plans to his pen mystified Mike. The pages were big and bulky. He'd been one determined little buck, but perseverance was not to be admired in this case. Houdini had sc.r.a.pped Mike's notations.

Mike was d.a.m.n mad.

"What have you done?" He heard the catch in Norah's voice as she approached the goat. She dropped to her knees and stared at the mess. "Mike's going to-"

"Hang him by his horns?" he finished for her. He pa.s.sed through the gate, came to stand before Houdini.

The buck didn't fear him. If anything, he chewed faster before spitting a paper wad.

Mike went down on one knee and salvaged a half sheet yet to be devoured. The remaining bits of the plan were the size of peas.

"Houdini loves paper," Nora rushed to say. "He's fascinated by the crinkling sound. He doesn't actual y eat the paper. He rol s it around in his mouth and chews."

"Then spits." Mike ducked a spit bal .

"Here's a piece you can save." She smoothed out a damp corner edge. Her hand shook as she pa.s.sed it to him.

He studied the drawing. "Goat spit smeared the lines."

She hesitated, asked, "Do you have another set of plans?"

"This set contained my notes and designated changes."

Norah Archer leaned back on her heels, leveled her gaze on him. "How did Houdini get your plans? Weren't they in your office? Wasn't the door locked?" Houdini had yet to pick locks.

"I'd left the door cracked so air could circulate," he explained. "Your goat hit and ran like a master thief."

"An open door is an invitation for Houdini to visit," she told him. "He's very social."

"Your goat came uninvited and destroyed a costly set of drawings."

Nora pursed her lips. "Of al the papers in your office, Houdini stole these particular plans?"

Mike nodded. "He had his choice of magazines, today's newspaper, the phone book or the plans."

She scooped up the remainder of the paper, pushed to her feet, and defended her goat. "Guess Houdini finds Cambridge Square as distasteful as I do."

Mike rose up before her, tal and agitated. "Three strikes, Norah." He tapped off his words on three fingers. "Houdini's climbed on my Corvette, ruined my sidewalk, and chewed and spit out my architectural plans. His escapades are getting old."

Her chest rose and fel , her heart heavy. "We'l do better,"

she promised.

His expression indicated he didn't believe her for a second. High above, the sky clouded. A breeze slid between them, the air cool against the heat of his temper.

Loose strands from her ponytail fanned her cheek, catching at one corner of her mouth.

It was Mike who tucked her hair back. The ful press of his thumb against her lips held her silent as the cal used pads of his fingers swept her cheek and secured the strands behind her ear.

His hand splayed along her jawline as the tip of his thumb made a slow pa.s.s across her mouth, teasing her lips apart.

He stroked the inside of her moist lower lip, his touch slow and intimate. And a total turn-on.

Withdrawing his thumb, he dipped his head until their noses touched. "Tie a bel around Houdini's neck or instal an electric fence. Just keep him off my construction site, understood?"

"Got it." Her voice was too husky to be her own.

A glance at Houdini, and Mike left the pen.

Norah blew out a breath. Her goat was a scamp. They didn't, however, need another strike against them.

She wouldn't let Houdini out of her sight.

CHAPTER THREE.

"Houdini's disappeared." Norah Archer's shoulders slumped as she faced Mike Kraft in the side parking lot.

She looked shaken and scared, her eyes al red and puffy.

She clutched several Kleenex tissues in her hand.

He squinted against the late afternoon sun. He'd cal ed it quits for the day and was about to climb in his Corvette.

Instead he closed the car door. "Your goat's gone missing?"

She nodded, her voice watery. "I've kept a sharp eye on Houdini al week. He was with me in the miniature horses'

pen while I was rubbing cream on Angel's and Astro's hooves to enhance hardness. It took me six minutes. When I looked up, Houdini was gone. I've searched for him for hours."

A cold trail for a lost goat would be tough to track. "You need my help?" Mike asked.

"If you have time."

He'd make time for this woman who looked as if she'd lost her child, not a petting zoo goat. "Do we walk or drive?"

"We'l walk," she told him. "I'l put Hermes in her harness.

Houdini adores her. He'l hear her bleat and come to us. I'l bring Houdini's Red Flyer. He likes to ride."