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Shoulders hunched, Layla led Alanna to the back of the room. She pointed to the enclosure in the bottom corner. As soon as Alanna took a step forward, a low warning growl issued from the cage.
Alanna moved closer. The growl grew in volume as Alanna knelt and peered into the cage. The cat was surprisingly large and strikingly beautiful, with a long white and orange coat. Blue, fury-filled eyes met her own.
The cat struck, its growl turning into a holler as it lunged at the enclosure door, its claws raking the plastic.
Layla gasped.
Alanna grinned. “She’s perfect.”
Ch. 9 Sully
Sullyparkedhiscarin the shared public lot on Chaparral Drive, then sat, hands still resting on the wheel. His nerves tingled, and he closed his eyes, trying to remember the deep breathing techniques from the morning’s meditation.
So not working.
Of course, morning meditation had been shit anyway. As soon as he’d closed his eyes, his mind had morphed into a movie projector intent on replaying yesterday’s disastrous humiliation with Alanna at the winery over and over again.
Until today, his daily meditation sessions had been going so well. The new morning activity was one step in what he had secretly deemedThe Sully Project; not that he’d admit to knowledge of any such project, even under enhanced interrogation.The Sully Projectincorporated a variety of sub-tasks, including learning the guitar, making friends in his new town, and beginning a daily meditation. At its essence, however, the project possessed a single overarching mission—to improve one, Sully Brooks. He’d spent the last nine years of his life selling his soul to his company to achieve financial independence and the last two years mourning a love that had never truly existed. Now that he’d earned his freedom, it was time to work on himself.
And in order to tackle another sub-task ofThe Sully Project, he’d need to stop waffling and get his ass out of the car. Sully blew a breath out of his cheeks and shoved open the door of his Mazda CX-9. The hinged squealed in protest.
“Soon,” Sully murmured to the car. Just like his two investment properties—The Ugly Duckling and Cinderella—the Mazda was a hidden treasure. He’d picked up the SUV for a song at a police auction. Outsiders might be turned off by the crumpled bumper, dented side door, and rust flakes on the hood, but those were only surface-level issues. The engine purred like a dream and a new set of tires meant the vehicle handled like the sleek beast it was. Sully had already set an automatic search for a door panel, bumper, and hood on the biggest auto parts auction site. As soon he bought the new pieces, he’d give the car a complete makeover, including a new paint job. She would be a beauty.
Sully gave his car a fond pat before moving onto the sidewalk. He admired the row of shops lining the main street of Yucca Hill’s west side. Some buildings showed their age more than others, but no one seemed to notice. People bustled along the sidewalks while cars rolled slowly down the street.
Before he started his walk, Sully gazed at his favorite building on the street, delightfully namedBehind the Times.The antique shop on the other side of the parking lot was built out of an actual wooden boat. Sully had been meaning to ask Hue about the whole boat situation.
Across from the parking lot stood a large restaurant. Though its neon sign wasn’t lit in the late morning, Sully could still read it: Valentina’s Cantina.He remembered Hue telling him that Valentina’swas the best restaurant in town. He started walking, passing Purls of Wisdom,a surprisingly busy yarn store, followed by Buzz and Brew,a coffee house + tea shop + brewery. The scent of fresh coffee hung in the air. People crowded inside the shop, while a few others sat out front on benches under a striped awning, pewter mugs in one hand, artful croissants and scones in the other.
A minute later, Sully neared the end of the block, passing a bright blue shop called Donuts Delight, then a darkened Chinese restaurant.The final building on the block sported peeling paint and a faded sign above the door announcing Junkyard Dogs Gym.Large, plate-glass windows showcased a line of old-model treadmills and elliptical trainers.
Here goes nothing, Sully thought. He attempted one more deep, meditative breath, then pushed open the door. The hum of a heavy metal beat grew exponentially as he moved into the space.
“Be right there,” a deep voice rumbled.
The place felt even smaller on the inside, but somehow it all worked. The main portion of the gym contained a crowded collection of weight machines. Open-faced cubbies lined one wall next to a door with a toilet silhouette on it. A staircase led to a small balcony, where several older ladies and at least two older men puttered around, aligning themselves in two sloppy rows. In the back of the gym, Sully caught sight of two flaking barbell racks with weight plates piled haphazardly on each side of them.
“Sorry, hi. You new?” A man jogged toward him, and Sully was shocked the ground didn’t shake with each footfall. The blond-haired man was massive, easily six-and-a-half feet tall, with muscles bulging beneath his pale skin. So, this is what Hercules probably looked like in real life.
Sully’s gaze snagged on a gleaming row of bodybuilding trophies lined up behind the reception desk. Yup, that tracked.
“I’m Cameron, but everyone calls me Cam. I’m the owner of Junkyard Dogs,” the man said, jutting out a massive paw in Sully’s direction.
“Co-owner,” came a sharp voice from the balcony.
Cam rolled his eyes. “Co-owner.”
Sully took Cam’s hand. The gym owner… co-owner, that is, wore a green tank that didn’t even bother trying to cover his insane pecs and boulder shoulders. The tank read,Too sexy for sleeves.
“You interested in a tour or signing up for a membership?” Cam asked, retrieving his hand.
“A membership.” Sully tried to hold Cam’s gaze, but he couldn’t help feeling like a pebble sitting in front of a glorious, golden-haired boulder.
“Excellent. It’s $50 a month.”
“$65 a month!” the voice hollered from upstairs. “We upped the prices three months ago.”
“Oh, right.” Cam grinned sheepishly. “I keep forgetting. Since I said $50, I can put you down for that rate for the first three months.”
