Increased traffic problems. And road damage. And garbage. And noise and odor complaints from the locals.
Still, no, Fiona didn’t work for him. Or with him. He would bitch at her because he blamed her directly for the fact that they had red pandas, a sloth, and lemurs in Autre. Because she’d literally brought them here herself. But she always had the paperwork in order, and if he complained about the traffic, the next day his phone would be ringing off the hook with all of the local businesspeople calling to let him know how much their bottom lines had improved as the animal park had grown and how happy they were with the increase in tourism.
He knew Fiona lobbied them to make those calls.
So, yes, their professional lives definitely overlapped—or, more accurately, butted up against one another—but this was definitely, probably not sexting. They'd never done that. They flirted in person, and over the phone, and via text once in a while, sure. But it had never gotten that serious. Why was he thinking it would now?
Because you’ve missed her, dumbass.
It had been a couple of months since Fiona had been to Autre. Which was unusual. For a while there, she’d come monthly or more to bring animals to the Boys of the Bayou Gone Wild. She had quickly realized that the Landrys, who owned and ran the petting zoo, were exactly the kind of people to welcome and care for abused and neglected animals that needed a place to live quietly and happily after what they'd been through.
Initially, they'd been building the business as a moneymaker, of course, but Fiona had recognized bighearted animal lovers and had not-so-slowly introduced them to animals in need.
At first, the petting zoo had been fairly simple. Goats, a potbellied pig, alpacas, the usual. It had been a straightforward attraction. But they'd quickly added lemurs, a sloth, a colony of endangered Galapagos penguins, flamingos, a harbor seal, and various other animals ranging from hedgehogs to peacocks.
Yes, the animal park had been a headache for him nearly from the start, but when he’d realized that some of the animals—donkeys, camels, and some horses—had been rescued and were coming here as an escape from their previous abusive situations, he’d realized what Fiona was really up to.
He’d made her tell him about what she actually did at her animal park in Florida. She had giraffes and a few other interesting animals people came out to see, but at its core, it was a sanctuary. And when she’d told him about the rescues she conducted, about the conditions they sometimes found, and the physical and emotional rehab they were able to do with the animals when they rehomed them in the right places…he’d fallen a little in love with her.
Fiona Grady was a force to be reckoned with.
And she was fucking gorgeous when she was passionate and riled up about something. Which was most of the time.
He was still waiting a minute later for a photo to ping his phone when his office door opened.
“Hey, Fitzwilliam.”
God, he wanted her.
That was his first thought when he looked up and saw Fiona standing in his office doorway.
“Nope.” He set his phone on his desk and strove to look nonchalant about the fact that she was in Autre and not seven hundred safe, can’t-touch miles away.
Since they’d met and she’d found out that he went only by his last name and that no one knew what his first initial—F—stood for, she’d been trying to guess his first name. She hadn’t landed on it yet and no one here in Autre knew. He’d always just gone by Knox, even in high school. Or F. Knox if it was something official.
He had no intention of telling her what his first name was. Simply because the more he got to know Fiona, the more he thought it was good to keep some secrets. He already had the very uncomfortable sensation of being wrapped around her tiny, sexy, pinky finger.
He purposely leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together, resting them on his stomach. Calm. Cool. Unaffected.
As far as she knew.
He wasn't going to let her know that his pulse had kicked up the moment he saw her smile, or that his fingers were itching to slide into her hair, or that his cock was hard and ready to go. How could she affect him this much with a simple greeting, standing twenty feet away?
"You're in town," he commented unnecessarily.
She spread her arms. “It’s Christmas."
She wore ankle-high black leather boots and black leggings that molded to her legs, with a long red and black plaid shirt that just covered her hips and ass. Over that, she had a quilted black vest that gave a nod to the fact that it was cool outside but certainly not cold. Her hair was down and loose and she looked…gorgeous.
“Didn’t know you were in town,” he said.
“I like keeping you on your toes.”
It seemed she was very, very good at that.
He glanced toward his office window. Sure enough, her gigantic purple truck was parked in front of City Hall.
And he was like one of Pavlov's dogs. That damn truck made his cock ache. They hadn't even slept together. But his body craved her and he got hard at the sight of her Ford F-150 XLT that was the color of grape soda and far too big for the woman he could have easily thrown over his shoulder and carried up the sixteen steps to his bedroom without even breathing hard.
Today, though, the pickup had reindeer antlers on top of the cab and a huge red ball for a nose between the headlights, that he assumed were supposed to be the eyes.
“You’re a few days early for Christmas,” he pointed out, turning back to face her, glad his desk was between them and blocking what was going on behind his fly.
Was she staying through the holiday? She usually only hung around for a day or so after delivering animals and saying hi to her friends in Autre. She had her own animals and life to get back to in another state. But it was only the twentieth. If she stayed through the holiday that would be nearly a week…
“No, we’re heading home the day after tomorrow. So I wanted to come and give everyone their gifts before we left.”
He frowned. She was heading home to Florida the day after tomorrow? “Where have you been?”
He was very aware that Fiona did a lot of things he wasn’t privy too. Why should he be? And why should he care?
That was a question he always shut down as soon as he started to think it.
Well, usually as soon as he started to think it. When he’d found out that she threw herself into rescuing animals in the aftermath of natural disasters like hurricanes and earthquakes and wildfires, he hadn’t quite been able to hold back. And he might have picked her up and carried her out of Ellie’s bar and backed her up against his truck and demanded she tell him all about those rescues and her training and how she kept safe.
And he might have come within a centimeter of kissing her.
Even right now he had to consciously make himself take a deep breath.
He had no idea what she did on a typical Thursday night, either. He didn’t know if she was safe or if she even thought about keeping herself safe or if the animals always came first…
Actually he did know. That’s what made him crazy. She always put the animals, and other people, before herself. He worried. And he didn’t like it.
He didn’t need to know everything about her and what she did. He didn’t want to know. What they had was…fuck if he knew. They weren’t co-workers. They weren’t friends. They weren’t…anything.