The Billionaire Jaguar's Curvy Journalist: BBW Panther Shifter Paranormal Romance (12 page)

He couldn’t smell the gunpowder from there, but he knew it was there. Her shot had gone wide, fortunately, but it’d certainly stopped the man from trying anything further.

She’d be with the police for a while. He needed to get back to the car, back to his phone, to tell her he was safe, offer her—

Offer her anything she needed.

At least Chris’s clothes would be in the car, though he should probably wait to change until they were away from Abby’s building, just in case. It would be suspicious enough when Paul snuck back to the car and threw his clothes back on.

“Did we really have to go this far back before you’d let me change? I’m starving now,” Chris said. Flying burned a lot of calories. “Can we hit McDonald’s or something?”

“Yeah,” Paul said. Maybe he’d gone a little on the far side. But it was important that Chris be safe too. “But there’s an energy bar in the glove compartment for now.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“So tell me what you saw at the lake.”

“Our friends at Brisbane are up to something,” Chris said. “I’ve been looking around at their storage facilities, and there’s a sheen on the water there. Chemical. I think something’s leaking. Maybe intentionally. It’s pretty quiet out there.” He took another bite of the bar—it was already halfway gone—and chewed for a second. “I bet you’ll be able to smell it. All I’ve got out there are my eyes.” Like any bird, when Chris was shifted, he couldn’t smell a damn thing.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and the other cat will be out there waiting for us.”

“And want to be buddies?” Chris rolled his eyes. “I admire your optimism.”

“Hey,” Paul said. “We’re friends, right?” They’d been friends since the day they met, both of them smarting from their losses. Paul had always wondered if what exactly it was they’d sensed in each other, aside from that shared grief. Was it just that they were both shifters? Their shared heritage? They had a lot in common, though Chris’s life had been completely different from his in a lot of ways. Chris’s mother had grown up working to keep her family fed, while Paul’s mom had been born to a family with status and privilege; Chris was surrounded by sisters, while Paul had lost the only family he had on the day of the accident; Chris went through boyfriends like a libertine, while Paul had only dated a little, waiting for someone as special as Abby. But those differences seemed small compared to what mattered.

He’d never thought he’d feel that kind of instant connection with anyone else. Then he’d met Abby.

“So we’re gonna ask him to join our special shifter club?” Chris leaned back in the seat and grinned.

“Might be a girl.”

“Nah, he should be a guy. A hot one.”

It had been a guy. But damned if he was going to tell Chris that. Chris had enough guys to keep himself distracted with.

Paul’s phone buzzed. “See if that’s Abby,” he said.

Chris picked his phone up. “Yeah, you want me to read it? Or should it be private?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Just read it, asshole.”

“She’s still at the station. She’ll be there a while longer. Wondering where you are.”

“Go ahead and tell her we’re going out to the lake,” he said. “Tell her I can pick her up. I don’t want her to be alone.”

“I bet you don’t,” Chris muttered, but he sent the text. He stretched a little in his seat. “Shit, I haven’t been naked this many times in a day since college.”

“I don’t need to know that,” Paul chided.

“Should I tell her you’re getting naked?”

“I’d better not,” he said. “Someone’s looking for me. Or the other jaguar. I’d rather not change unless I have to. The kind of people who send thugs after reporters normally keep more than one asshole on staff.”

“True enough. So what, we walk? I won’t be able to tell you what I saw without pointing, and they’re definitely going to think it’s weird if you talk to a hawk. And it’s not like I’m a species you see around here. It’s fine if I keep to the skies, but I hang around too much, someone catches on. Especially at the park. More birdwatchers.”

That was a good point. “You’ll be able to see it?”

“Pretty sure,” he said. “I can explain if—”

The car Paul had seen pulling in as he left was still at the park. “We’ll play visitors,” he said. “I just got that apartment, we can be seeing the sights. Looking for the right place to kayak or something.”

“You know how to kayak?”

“No,” Chris said. “You do, though, right? You hike and all that shit.”

“You hike, sometimes.”

“Visiting home doesn’t count as ‘hiking.’ You’re doing that shit for fun.” Chris scratched the back of his neck. “Give me a nice climate-controlled gym any time.” He frowned at Paul’s phone. “Abby says the guy’s a known criminal, at least that’s what the cops are saying.”

Paul took his phone back.
You’re all right?
After a second he added,
this is Paul now.

Good,
came the reply.
I’m okay. A little shook up. Thank you.

I’d do far more for you,
he thought.

No problem,
he typed.
I’d like to take you back to my place when you’re done. You’ll be safer.

OK,
she sent back, and he felt a wash of relief. That was the most important thing of all, keeping Abby safe. Everything else could wait, or be dealt with later.

“All right,” he said, sliding his phone in his pocket. “Let’s take this nature walk. See what we can see before I have to pick up Abby.”

17

Paul picked her up from the police station.
I don’t care if it looks suspicious,
he wrote.
I want to see you.

Abby had to confess, she didn’t care either. She wanted to see Paul too. She wanted to be back in his arms. Her apartment felt dangerous, and she had to go back to finish the article. She’d done so much work. She couldn’t stop now.

“You’re sure you need to submit this article,” Paul said, skeptically.

“Yes,” she said. “I was almost done!”

“That’s not the point,” he said. “Someone tried to kidnap you. You—”

“The point is that I’ve worked my—my ass off,” she said. “And I had a terrible night. And I at least want to get this story published.”

“Okay,” he said. He shook his head. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” she said.

“Can you at least finish it at my apartment? Chris promised the wi-fi’s working and the furniture’s all there now.”

That didn’t sound bad. Not bad at all. “If you insist,” she said. “I have to pick my stuff up first, though.”

He pulled in. “Let me go in with you,” he said. “Please.”

“All right,” she said. That sounded pretty good, honestly. For all she insisted on going back in, she wasn’t really looking forward to it. And she definitely didn’t want to do it alone. They got out together and he put an arm on the small of her back as they walked to the building. It felt good. She felt safe.

Even when she got to the door of her apartment. Even when her pulse jumped when she saw the laptop, just as she’d left it, her stack of papers. “I should find my pen,” she said.

“I’ll buy you a pen,” he said. “Take what you can’t live without to get the article done, some clothes for tomorrow—but we don’t need to waste a lot of time here.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. But he was right. She was distracted, not thinking about what was important. Paul could keep her safe—she was sure of that—but she didn’t want to have him exposing his secret if she could help it. She went over to her closet and dug out her suitcase, threw in a pair of jeans she knew fit and some clean underwear. Shirts were trickier. She didn’t want to look too casual or too slutty. Just...pretty.

Finally she settled on a light sweater and two nice short-sleeved shirts, plain colors, classic styling. No slogans or anything.

She didn’t fuss this much over her clothes in her last job interview. She grinned at herself. You’re being ridiculous.

“Nice to see you smile,” Paul said gently from her bedroom door, where he’d been quietly hovering. “You have any medications, anything like that? I probably have a spare toothbrush, but if you want your own, I can grab it.”

“I—thanks,” she said.

“You’re...kind of rattled,” he said. “Let me help.”

She took a look at her half-full suitcase. “Maybe...maybe you should,” she admitted.

He came up and put an arm around her waist. “It’s okay,” he said. “You’re pretty rattled. I’d only be surprised if you weren’t.”

“That helps,” she said.

He kissed her neck. “That’s what the mate bond’s supposed to be about. Comforting each other, even if it’s just by being in the same room.”

“Well, it’s working.” His hands felt warm, and his touch was calming. Well, not just calming, but calming would do for now. “You said you have a bed at this new place of yours? Sheets, all that stuff?”

“I promise,” he said.

“No, I just—I thought we could pack that stuff. If we needed to.”

“So. Medications?”

“No,” she said. “I mean, painkillers and stuff, but only when I need it.” Despite everything, she didn’t have a headache. She just felt a little shaky.

“All right. I’ll get your toothbrush. Should I get your makeup?”

“I can use what I’ve got in my bag,” she said. She had some mascara in there and lipstick. She wouldn’t need more than that, at least for a little while. Most everything she’d need but clothes was in her bag. The toothbrush would be good, though.

“I apologize,” Paul said, setting her bags down inside his apartment. “I haven’t moved in, really. Just had Chris set a few things up.”

“Don’t apologize,” she said. Whatever he said, the apartment was beautiful. Abby had seen these apartments before, but only on the outside: they were the kind of expensive, remodeled places that commanded high rent and normally went to weekenders, whether it was tourists or people like Paul, who worked in the city.

There was a big, spacious main room with a thick-looking cream-colored couch. Leather? It looked sleek. Modern. There was a big blue Oriental rug covering most of the gleaming hardwood floor, and an old-fashioned armchair with blue brocade. It looked friendly and open. Her photo was leaning on the wall by the fireplace.

“This is nice,” she said.

“It’s not me yet,” he said. “Chris did a lot of it. I mean, he’s got good taste, don’t get me wrong. And he knows me pretty damn well.”

“I’ve gotten that impression,” she said.

“I know, it’s weird,” he said.

“No,” she said. “I’m glad. Tina and I are kind of the same way.” She’d had boyfriends who thought it was weird, how close she was to her best friend. But there was nothing wrong with having a friend you could rely on. Especially for people like her and Paul, who couldn’t rely on their families.

Being in a new place helped. She felt like she could breathe a little easier. And Paul was there. Handsome. Strong. He’d kept her safe once and she was sure he could do it again.

“So,” she said. “You told me you were going to tell me what was at the park.”

“I was,” he said. “We didn’t have to sneak around too much, it was kind of hiding in plain sight.” He pulled out his phone. “Actually, it might work out pretty well as a follow up to the story on Inti. Goofus versus Gallant, that sort of thing.”

“What did they do?”

“Pretty sure they’re dumping chemicals. Not sure if it’s outright dumping or just poor storage practice, but it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference to the water. Between Chris and I, we saw a lot of the signs. Whoever that strange panther is, they must be getting close to proving it.” He showed her a picture. “See that on the water? The little scum there? Normally that comes from decomposing leaves, but you can see the color isn’t right. It’s too thick, too, if you get close. And these storage containers are way too close to the water anyway, it’s got to be against regulation. It’s just no one’s been looking.”

She looked. It did seem unusual. And it was pretty clear that the containers were too close to the water, even if they weren’t leaking. “There’s my next story, I guess,” she said. “Though I don’t think I’ll say anything about—what did you say? Goofus and Gallant?”

“What, you never read
Highlights?”

What the hell was he talking about? “Um...no?”

“They’re—they’re like good idea, bad idea, I guess. Gallant does the right thing, and Goofus is a goofus.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll get into that,” she said. “I’ll...just let you look good by contrast.” She wanted to curl back up into his arms and stay there. But it was getting late, and she really needed to finish that article. “Um...where can I work?”

“Wherever you want to,” he said. “Chris set up the wi-fi so the password—um. Well.”

“Well?”

He looked abashed. “‘Kitty2000’. No spaces.”

“You’ll have to thank him,” she said, walking over to the couch. “That’s the first laugh I’ve had since—you know.”

“Do you want some company, or should I leave you to work?”

The last thing she wanted was to be alone. “Please—please stay,” she said. “It won’t be that long, anyway.”

“I won’t get bored, don’t worry. I am going to make some hot tea, though. Would you like some?”

“Yes.” She sat down on the couch and pulled out her laptop. “Please. Thank you. For...for everything.”

“You know you don’t have to thank me,” he said. “But you’re welcome. Any preference for tea?”

“Something herbal, probably, so I might be able to sleep tonight.”

“It’s all right,” he said. “I bet I can get you to sleep.” He leered a little at her before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Yeah, I...hope you can.”
Back to work,
she reminded herself. She was just lucky that the article was almost done. She hadn’t been short on distractions today.

She was afraid being away from him would take away that feeling of safety, but she could hear him working in the kitchen, and that reassured her.
He’s right there. You’re going to be all right.

“Do you like cream and sugar?” he called from the kitchen.

“Just a little sugar, please.”