Venus in Blue Jeans Read Online Free PDF

cajoling. Every time Cal looked down, Señor Pepe regarded him with those enormous brown eyes. Help me, oh please, help me. Cal had been afraid to put his foot in the wrong place for fear of crushing a paw or a tail, or—worst of all—an entire Chihuahua.
    The dinner Margaret had prepared was good, he’d give her that. Cal was a decent cook himself, and he appreciated people who knew how to fix corn without turning it into mush and who didn’t drench salads in bottled dressing.
    He was also a vegetarian. Had been since he was fourteen years old and visited his first slaughterhouse. Fortunately, he was able to explain this to Margaret before she put the steaks onto her outdoor gas grill.
    She was appalled. Not about the slaughterhouse.
    “Why, I never heard of such a thing,” Margaret snapped. “A big man like you. Surely you need red meat to keep going.” She’d stared up at him accusingly, one hand resting on a calico-covered hip.
    Clearly, he’d failed her. Not such a bad idea, of course.
    Cal had gritted his teeth, smiled and filled up on corn, green beans and salad, figuring he could always make himself some soup when he got home.
    At least by the end of the evening, Margaret was no longer looking at him with that faintly predatory gleam in her eyes. For her, vegetarians apparently rated somewhere slightly above people who said they’d been abducted by aliens.
    Particularly large male vegetarians.
    Cal didn’t care. He’d have been willing to be abducted by just about anybody if it meant he wouldn’t ever have to set foot inside that house again. He plucked Señor Pepe from between his boots one last time, thanked Margaret for her hospitality and headed out the door with a feeling of relief that almost sent him floating through the streets.
    He cut across the city park, ducking around the central gazebo to avoid a couple of tables where some teenagers were having a raucous picnic. Charcoal and beer scented the air.
    Should he stop by the clinic? Armando, the night attendant, was good at his job, but there was an elderly collie with kidney problems he felt like checking on. And besides, nothing was waiting for him at home except soup and Dos Equis. He sighed. Once he got on a little firmer financial footing, he was going to have to spring for cable.
    As he reached the rear clinic entrance, he heard a car door slam. Turning, he saw a Land Rover parked crookedly toward the front of the lot. A woman hurried toward him, hoisting a small animal carrier as she stumbled from the darkness into the lights.
    A moment passed before he recognized Venus, her fiery hair billowing wildly about tear-stained cheeks, her eyes wide with panic. Cal blinked and looked again. The front of her blouse was dappled with dark splotches.
    “Help me,” she called to him. “Please. My cat is hurt.”
     
     
    Docia couldn’t let go of the carrier handle.
    Not that she didn’t want to. She found she simply couldn’t unfold her fingers and let it go.
    Dr. Gorgeous didn’t press her. He put one large hand at the small of her back and propelled her firmly through the rear door of the clinic. “Armando,” he called. “We need you over here.”
    A man stepped into the hall, staring at Docia. “Sure, Doc. What do you need me to do? Which room?”
    “Room two,” Gorgeous said, his voice quiet.
    Docia stared down at the carrier frozen in her hand. Nico. Nicodemus. Found digging through the garbage behind Allie Maldonado’s bakery. It had taken her a day to lure him out from behind the dumpster with canned tuna, and even then he wasn’t too pleased with her when she’d scooped him up and carried him home. She remembered tiny scratches from pin-sized claws. Her hands had been bright red for days. The two of them had spent a week reaching an understanding—she didn’t try to pick him up again and he finally agreed to come out from behind the refrigerator.
    Just a cat. He’s just a cat. He brought her lizards he’d hunted down, even