The Nine Lives of Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page A

a nice body.
    Her name tag (right boob) showed that she had a nice name, too. Happily serving our pets: Merilee . It was the kind of name that made a guy think laughter and good times and a good life.
    Zach quickly reminded himself that he already had all that.
    At the sight of him she stared wide-eyed and blinked. Then she blushed. Then she stammered, “Good morning. Welcome to Pet Palace.”
    So, he flustered her. She thought he was hot. The ego stroke made him smile. Until he remembered he didn’t want anything stroked by this kind of woman. “Hi Merilee. I forgot something important,” he said, setting down Tom’s toilet supplies.
    The simple statement put her at ease and she smiled. “So, your new cat is an inside kitty.”
    “He wants to be. He wasn’t real happy when I put him outside last night.”
    This bit of sharing produced a disapproving little frown. “They do like to go outside, but not in the cold and rain.”
    “Hey, who does?” Zach cracked, trying to make light of his heartless behavior of the night before.
    “I do,” she said brightly, then looked like she was reconsidering her confession. “I like to hike,” she explained.
    “Yeah?” He liked to hike. Most women he dated didn’t, though. They were always worried about their hair or their clothes getting dirty.
    “I think walking in the rain is romantic,” she confessed. This brought another deeper blush, and she kept her gaze riveted on her cash register.
    “You’re the first woman I’ve met who actually thinks that,” Zach said. “You don’t worry about your hair?”
    She gave a handful of curls a self-conscious tug. “It’s hopeless.”
    “Naw, it’s cute.” It was. He wasn’t flirting, just making an honest observation. Dude. What are you thinking? No more “honest observations.”
    She cleared her throat and got busy ringing up his purchases. “You’re smart to keep your cat inside.”
    Zach almost reminded her, He’s not really my cat. He’s just staying with me for a while . Instead, he said, “Oh? Why?”
    “It’s safer for them,” she said, her voice taking on authority. “They can contract diseases like feline leukemia or get hit by cars. So inside is best. Credit or debit?” she added after telling him his total.
    That much just so the animal could shit indoors? “Uh, debit,” Zach said, fishing out his card. The cost of being a Good Samaritan was starting to climb.
    “Thanks for coming in,” she said when they’d finished the transaction. “If you need any help with your cat, I’m here.”
    She may as well have said, ‘Call me.’ With those big green eyes and that hot little bod he could have been tempted. If she’d given him any sign she wasn’t looking for something that led to the church altar and then divorce court, if he wasn’t already with someone who had no dreams of white wedding gowns.
    I’m here .
    Which meant that from now on, he would have to make sure he was … there.
    *   *   *
    Merilee poked her head outside her second-floor apartment door. Good. The coast was clear. She slipped outside, her garbage bag in tow, and hurried for the Dumpsters out back. When she got to the ground floor she did a quick bolt past Mrs. Winnamucker’s unit, her heart beating an anxious tattoo. Fortunately, no curler-clad head poked out the door to ask where she was going.
    Thank God. That had been known to happen. Mrs. Winnamucker, manager of the Angel Arms Apartments, took her job seriously and kept a careful eye on all the residents. (Which was why most of them were over fifty and sedately settled. No one with a girl-gone-wild kind of social life stayed for long.)
    Mrs. Winnamucker especially kept an eye on Merilee, even though she was a quiet renter—never a wild party or a TV turned up too loud. But Merilee worked in a pet store, and in Mrs. Winnamucker’s mind that made her suspect. She was a resident who might just fraternize with the enemy: animals. The Angel Arms Apartments