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Just as I was getting back into my spot, the door behind me opened. I didn’t bother looking. I was ready to get this done and get out of here. It was well after five, and most zoo employees had headed home for the day.
It was probably Dean. He was stuck here too, waiting for me to call him to come get the bird and take him back to his exhibit for the night. I couldn’t blame him for being impatient. My poor tummy was screaming for food, and it was Friday, so that was North End Pizza day.
I brushed off the thought, because it would only make me hungrier, and focused on Sarge. Across the room, he cocked his head to the side.
I whistled, and on command, the bird took off. But instead of coming to the red glove on my arm, he soared over my head.
Shoot. What the hell was he doing?
I spun, tracking him, until my eyes landed on Chris, who was standing in the corner by the table. And Sarge was heading right for him.
“Holy fuck.” Chris backpedaled, stumbling the whole way. He tripped on a chair and toppled over it, and in the next second, Sarge landed on the center of his chest. Chris’s hat flew off his head and skidded away as his back slammed into the tile floor beneath him. With one ankle still tangled with the chair leg, he held his hands in the air, palms out, like he was trying to ward off the creature.
With my heart in my throat, I rushed over. Pale and wide-eyed, Chris stared at me. The bird was calmly standing on him, picking at its wing and paying him no mind. As I approached, a single feather fluttered from Sarge’s wing and landed on Chris’s red shirt.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Sarge looked up at me as if he thought I was talking to him, thentilted his head and leaned in closer, studying the man he had pinned beneath him.
Chris blinked at Sarge, then at me.
Sarge edged in even closer and stuck his beak in Chris’s hair, allopreening him. Chris’s eyes went wider than I’d ever seen them when Sarge brushed his big orange beak through the hair beside his ear.
“Shit.” Chris’s shoulder twitched. “What’s he doing? Is he trying to eat me? Or spit on me?” His lips barely moved as he whispered, as if he were hoping the bird wouldn’t catch on.
“It’s okay. He won’t eat you.” The scene was adorable, but I wasn’t sure Chris would be thrilled with the truth here. “He’s grooming you.”
His eyes widened and he choked. “Blondie, I’m trying not to scream like a girl. Can you please get this massive beast off me?”
Now he was just being dramatic. Sarge was a sweetheart. But I took pity on him since he looked like he was on his way to having a panic attack.
“Sarge.” I whistled and held my arm out like I’d done before.
As the bird opened his wings, readying to take off, Chris’s already pallid face drained of any remaining color. But he kept it together, and with two flaps, the eagle was resting on my red glove, his talons wrapped around my wrist.
Slowly, and without taking his eyes off the bird, Chris lifted to his elbows. “I’m not sure whether I feel better or worse that he’s on you now.”
Sarge tipped his head and danced along my arm.
“No,” I clipped, ensuring the bird didn’t take off for Chris again. Then I turned my attention back to my friend. “It’s the shirt. He’s trained to fly toward the red.”
In one quick motion, Chris jackknifed to sitting, grasped his shirt at his nape, and yanked it over his head. Then he tossed it across the floor like it was on fire.
I wanted to laugh, but that desire quickly died out as the sight in front of me registered and my mouth went dry. Broad shoulders, high, defined pecs, and a ribbed six-pack.
Well, damn. I’d forgotten exactly how good he looked shirtless. Without my permission, my entire body lit up like I was seeing him forthe first time. And yet memories of his chest pressing against mine as he moved inside me invaded my mind and sent a burning heat searing through me.
He tilted his head and studied me.
My body warmed another degree, and I may have let out a whimper in response to his attention.
“You okay?” His biceps bulged as he pushed himself to his feet.
I nodded as he stepped closer. When he stood in front of me, my senses were flooded with the rich scent of his cologne.I averted my gaze. His scrutiny was so intense I thought I might combust. He lifted a hand and ducked lower so I was forced to look at him. In response, a pack of butterflies danced in my belly. He ghosted the back of his pointer finger against my cheekbone, and I fought the shiver that tried to race down my spine.
With his eyes fixed on my mouth, he ran his tongue along his bottom lip, and I swore I felt the slow swipe between my thighs.
A cold nudge to my temple snapped me out of the trance, and the accompanying squawk made Chris jump back.
