Chapter Eight

Surprisingly, Gus crashed when she finally hit the sack shortly after. It shouldn’t have been surprising after a couple of nights of little sleep and no sleep due to the census, but she’d been so keyed up—sexually keyed up—after watching Derek and Corinne on the beach, sleep hadn’t felt within her reach.

She had slept, though. Five solid hours of deep, dreamless sleep, exhaustion and the white noise of the circulating fan taking their toll. Gus hadn’t had a dreamless sleep since that day in the courtroom, so she was utterly invigorated when she arose.

Coffee. Coffee first, then she was hitting her laptop.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for the latent sexual tension from last night to return. Having to walk through the living room to get to the kitchen and the coffee machine took care of that.

The living room that contained the couch. The couch that contained Marshall.

A shirtless, sleeping Marshall—his whiskers bordering on scruffy, his hair in disarray, and that tantalizing happy trail exposed for all to see.

That damn thing was going to be the death of her.

A pulse fluttered to life between her legs. Just as it had done last night as she’d stood next to Marshall and witnessed that make-out session, not daring to move lest they get caught.

Or she jumped him.

Man…she’d wanted to climb him like a stripper’s pole when the handsy couple had finally found their tent. It had been so tempting to do the one thing she’d told him she wouldn’t do—kiss him. Thankfully, the contract’s mere presence in her psyche had stopped her from taking that step. Good to know it was already paying dividends.

Coffee. She needed coffee. Coffee would make it all better. Coffee and burying herself in the data that had been collected last night.

Data might not be sexy, but Gus got off on it anyway. And she’d rather have that kind of deep and abiding happy ending than the shallow and transient one promised by his happy trail, any day.

Feeling virtuous, she fixed her coffee and removed herself firmly from temptation, wandering out onto the porch. Gus sighed and took a sip of her liquid gold, savoring it with closed-eyed appreciation for a beat or two, her face turned to the midmorning sun already sharpening its teeth.

Opening her eyes, Gus parked her ass in the nearest Adirondack chair. It was quiet for midmorning, with nothing but the distant noise of a boat motor. The Bunnyguards were all obviously still sleeping off their long night. Or indulging in other activities…

Which took her back to last night all over again.

It was hardly unusual on these kinds of projects for a little extracurricular activity to go down with the Bunnyguards. Shove a bunch of young, like-minded, unattached women and men together and…hormones happened.

More power to them. It wasn’t her job to be their mom or their sexual health counselor or their moral compass. They were all adults and free to do what they wanted. She just wished she hadn’t witnessed it, standing next to her own estrogen magnet.

It had taken her right back to Marshall kissing her the night before.

Gus had been dreading spending all those hours alone with him. In the dark. But he’d been an excellent census buddy. He’d been a great spotter and flashlight holder and had written down the count, leaving Gus free to make notes about the rabbits. And he hadn’t tramped. He’d been quiet, asked relevant questions, and been happy to whisper.

Actually, the whispering thing hadn’t been so good. Who knew a whisper could be even more deadly than a deep, rumbly voice? His whispers, all warm and low and husky, had wrapped themselves around her, brushing over her skin and sliding into her ear.

Into places a lot lower, too.

It didn’t matter that they were mostly about detached clinical stuff to do with the survey, they’d drawn her closer and tightened her nipples.

Frankly, his whispers had turned her on.

Gus has done three major rabbit surveys in her life. This was the first one she’d ever thought about spontaneous orgasm being a possible outcome. Even now, the sensitive flesh at the apex of her thighs pulsed at the memory, and Gus crossed her legs.

Some voices drifted to her on the still air, and she glanced across the clearing to the track. Two people emerged, holding hands. It wasn’t Derek and Corinne from last night, and Gus squinted, trying to put names to their faces.

The guy was Ed, an African-American vet student from Denver. And was that…Brenda with the red hair? At least Gus thought that was her name. She was one of the Humane Society volunteers. They’d obviously been swimming, their hair wet, towels draped around their shoulders.

As Gus watched, Ed stopped and pulled Brenda in for a kiss. And not just a quick, friendly peck, either. A kiss that should have come with a censorship rating. Gus’s cheeks flamed just watching it.

Maybe this was Sex Island?

Standing abruptly, she slunk back into the cabin, and the tension inside her cranked a notch or two higher.

“Hey.”

Gus almost upended the dregs of her coffee cup over her T-shirt. “Jesus.” She clutched her chest, her eyes taking a few seconds to adjust to the dimmer interior. “Marshall. Don’t do that.”

He smiled. “Say hey?”

Say hey.

Say hey in just your boxers.

Say hey, leaning all big and warm and lazy against the kitchen counter.

Say hey, looking better than any man had a right to…

She didn’t respond, and he didn’t push her for an answer, just asked, “Another coffee?”

Gus nodded. “I’ll make it. How about you go and”—she waved a hand at him, indicating his lack of clothes—“cover up.”

He smiled at her, absently running a hand over his chest and down his abdomen. Gus did not follow that movement. She turned away, heading for the coffee machine, and he chuckled somewhere behind her, causing a mass outbreak of goose bumps. “I’ll get dressed, then,” he announced.

Please, yes, for the love of all that is holy. Gus slowly let out her breath as his footsteps retreated.

By the time he came back, his hair damp from the shower, smelling like soap and smoking hot man—and thankfully fully dressed—Gus was sitting at the kitchen table, in front of her laptop, waiting for the data to download from her tracker, which was plugged into the USB port via a cable.

Marshall sat opposite, claiming the coffee she’d made him and taking a sip. He put the mug down. “What can I do?”

Stop being so damn irresistible.

Stop being so damn helpful.

Stop making me forget men are assholes.

Gus tipped her chin at the pages of information they’d collected last night. “You could collate that and the others as they come in. Plot the rabbit sightings on the big map on the wall.”

She gestured behind him, and he turned to survey the blown-up map of the island she’d tacked to the wall while he’d been in the shower.

Wet. Naked. Soapy.

Oh Jesus. Get a grip, Augusta.

“We’ll be able to get an overall visual and use it as a way to double-check for the data from the trackers.”

“Okay, yep. Sure.” He turned back. “When will we have a final figure, do you think?”

“Hopefully later this afternoon.”

“Oh…really?” He seemed surprised and then obviously delighted.

“Sure. As long as we’re efficient and concentrate on the job.”

His lazy smile got bigger. “Yes, ma’am.”

Gus returned her gaze to the screen, ignoring the sure and certain knowledge that his yes ma’am was about to become a new feature in her ongoing Marshall Dyson dreams.

By midday, the Bunnyguards were all up and at ’em and the cabin was a hive of activity. People coming and going, staying to help and watch the map evolve, as well as adding snippets of information they’d gleaned while out and about or telling little anecdotes from the night.

Gus enjoyed herself, enjoyed the buzz and the company—even Marshall’s. Watching him interact with everyone was actually a pleasure. She’d thought he’d be all cranky and pushy when he arrived on the island, but he’d been the epitome of easygoing, and the Bunnyguards, even the ones who had been in court, seemed to have taken to him.

Maybe it had been his willingness to get his hands dirty? Maybe his looks and his charm and his smile? It didn’t matter. He’d been accepted as one of them in a very short period of time.

Considering his original plan for the rabbits of Hitchkin, that was a miracle.

Someone brought them something to eat, which Gus scarfed down as she worked through lunch and into the early afternoon. She inputted data from everyone’s count sheets and downloaded the information from their tracking devices. It was fun watching the progress of the map as the count was also manually plotted.

Being able to physically see the scale of the project was fascinating, and this map would be the one they’d all refer to over the following couple weeks as they methodically went about the rescue process. It was satisfying to see the Bunnyguards already pouring over it, getting familiar.

Others, though, were clearly taking the downtime as an opportunity to cool off in the lake, splashing and fooling around. Gus could occasionally hear laughter drifting up from the water and resolved to go in for a dip later, once all the numbers had been crunched and they’d come up with a population result. Between the warmth of the cabin and her awareness of Marshall, she could do with some cooling off.

Derek and Corinne were the last ones to make it to the cabin, although their tracker had been handed in by somebody else. Gus flicked a brief glance at Marshall as they entered looking like they’d had exactly zero sleep. The side of his mouth kicked up before he returned his attention to his work.

“You’ll never believe what I saw last night,” Corinne said.

“Oh?” Gus kept her eyes glued to her screen, determined not to look in Marshall’s direction. Thanks to her peripheral vision, she could already see the grin he was trying to suppress.

After what they’d seen last night, Gus was a little worried what Corinne was about to divulge.

“Derek.” Corinne playfully batted his arm. “The picture.”

Derek hauled out his phone and swiped at the screen with his thumb.

“It was the hugest—” Corinne held her hands about a foot apart, and Marshall made a noise at the back of his throat that sounded like he was choking. “Like freaky huge,” Corinne continued, apparently unaware of Marshall’s mirth, “lop I’ve ever seen. Reminded me more of one of those Flemish Giant rabbits.”

Relief gave way to piqued interest, and Gus glanced up from the screen. “Really?”

“Yep,” Derek confirmed and handed his cell phone over.

“I doubt it’d be a—” Gus fell silent as her gaze landed on the picture of a very big rabbit. It was just the back shot as it hopped away, but there was no doubting its size. “Yep, that’s one giant bunny.”

The people remaining in the kitchen crowded around to have a look. When they were done, she handed the phone to Marshall.

“Are you sure it’s a lop?” Gus asked.

She hadn’t seen anything other than lops, but that rabbit was way too big for a lop. What did it mean if there were two breeds of rabbit on the island?

“Oh yes,” Corinne confirmed. “It’s definitely a lop. Just really, really big.”

“I… We…” Derek slid a quick glance at Corinne and back again. “Weren’t quick enough to get a picture of the front.”

A frontal image would have been handy for identification purposes, for sure. Not that it was necessary; they’d know soon enough. “But Corinne is right, it had all the lop features,” Derek agreed. “It appeared to have had a hard life, though. Its left ear had a chunk out of it, one of its back legs dragged a little, and its face was kinda squashed, you know? We nicknamed him Thumper.”

“Might have got into some fights,” Gus said as Marshall handed her the phone and she assessed the image again. “Or maybe he suffered some kind of trauma.” Gus passed the cell back to Derek. “I guess we’ll know more when we capture Thumper.”

Corinne nodded. “How soon will you have the census number?”

“Should be in a couple of hours. The program needs to cross check a lot of GPS coordinates from the tracking data to eliminate any potential double or triple or more counts. That takes some time.”

She nodded. “Are we going to remove the nests tonight?”

“Yep. There are twelve in all, so hopefully that’ll only take us a couple of nights.” The census had turned up another two nests from Gus’s count. For some reason, and maybe it was a combination of their domestic genetics and lack of ground prey, the nests were mostly still situated in plain sight. There could be others deep in burrows, but given how there were a dozen nests above ground, Gus doubted it. “Then we can get on with the remainder of the rabbit population.”

“Cool.” Corinne turned to Derek. “Wanna go for a swim?”

“Hell yeah. Last one in the water’s a rotten egg.”

And then they practically ran out of the cabin, laughing and chasing each other. “Jeez, those two really need to get a room,” a guy named Chris said from behind Marshall, and there was general laughter.

Gus didn’t say anything. Neither did Marshall. She just returned to her laptop screen and he to his map.

“So we grab the babies first?”

Gus looked up from the laptop twenty minutes later at Marshall’s question. She’d just finished inputting the last value. He was leaning on the wall near the map, looking all shaggy and scruffy and really freaking hot.

“Yes.” She nodded. “The rabbits are going to be more and more wary as their numbers start to disappear, so we need to get the kits out first. But we can’t just rush in and grab the nests; we need to capture the mother as well so we’re not distressing her and they can all stay together until the kits would normally be weaned and independent.”

“You can’t just hand feed them? Some kind of formula or something?”

“You can. We have to use a special formula, but it’s possible. Not ideal, though. Wild kits, which these essentially are, even though they’re a domestic breed, don’t survive well outside the nest, so it’s important for the mom and kits to stay together so she can continue to feed them and care for them under the watchful eye of an experienced wildlife rehabber.”

He nodded. “So how do you capture the mother? I was reading that they only return to the nest once or twice a night to feed the babies.”

Gus cocked an eyebrow. “Very good,” she said, amused that he’d obviously done some Googling.

“What? I can read.”

She laughed again. “The first step is to be sure you get the real mother. Not some random rabbit hopping past the nest. So you have to wait and watch.”

Gus watched as realization dawned on Marshall’s face. “We’re going back out tonight, aren’t we?”

“Yup.” Gus smiled. “And probably the next night, too. We’ll sit vigil, close to the nests but hidden, and wait for the mothers to do their thing and, while she is, we’ll set up a tempting treat for her in a special trap placed just nearby for when she’s done.”

“Trap? I didn’t think the ABL believed in trapping?”

“It’s not really a trap. It’s a wire tunnel that’s open at both ends. The rabbits are more likely to enter it because they know there’s a way out. Then we spring it. And grab the babies.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“Well…” Gus grimaced. “In theory. I’m hoping because of the lack of predators on Hitchkin and their domesticated genes that the rabbits will be less frightened of us. A lot of rabbits will freeze when you approach them and you can just grab ’em straight up. I’m hoping we’ll be able to do that with a lot of the bunnies on the island.”

“So, what happens to the babies and moms, then?”

“I’m going to set up a nursery in here, if that’s okay?”

He shrugged. “Fine by me.”

Gus nodded her thanks. “I doubt we’ll get them all at once, but even if we do there’s enough floor space in here for a bunch of cages and they’ll literally be out the next morning. We already have expert wildlife rehabbers lined up to take them. We’ll put them on the boat and transfer them to the mainland, where transport will be waiting to take them to their rehabber.”

He made a kind of humming noise and said, “You’re very competent, aren’t you?”

God. It made her sound so…bland. And it wasn’t what she was used to. She knew she’d been blessed with a set of features that men found attractive. So much so they rarely recognized the brain she had between her ears or how good she was at her job.

She should be pleased that Marshall did. She was pleased. But her traitorous body craved words of heat and promise, not praise. “Yes.”

What else could she say? It was the truth and she wasn’t going to be modest about it. She was exceedingly good at what she did. She was very competent.

He nodded and a slight smile curled his mouth. It was equal parts sweet and sexy and unfurled inside her veins as he continued with the questions. “So, then, we capture the other animals?”

Gus scrabbled to regain her place in the conversation. “Rescue. Yes.”

“Do they go out on the boat the next day?”

“No. We have to use Hitchkin as an adoption base for the rest of the rabbits. Like a…satellite shelter, I guess, because there’s no way the ABL shelter in Denver can cope with such a big influx of rabbits. So we’ll assess them all here first and get the re-homing process started immediately for the males, getting them all up on the ABL’s Facebook page and finding them new, permanent homes.”

He frowned. “Not the females?”

“We’ll need to ascertain whether or not they’re pregnant first. If they are, they’ll go home with volunteers until after the babies are born and weaned, and then they’ll be re-homed.”

“What’s the likelihood of that?”

“Very high. Any female who’s reached sexual maturity will probably be pregnant.”

Marshall whistled in admiration. “So there’s something to the whole going at it like rabbits thing, then?”

Gus smiled. “Yep.”

He returned her smile. “And if they’re not pregnant?”

“They’ll go through the same re-homing and adoption process as the males. The bunnies will be snapped up pretty quickly—we always get a good response on our Facebook page to adoption drives, with most bunnies finding a family within a few days. But because of the volume of rabbits, we’re going to have to put them up in batches. Once a rabbit has been matched with a new owner, we’ll send them with a few others that have also made a match to the Denver HQ for desexing and vaccinating, and then their new owners will pick them up from there. We just need to make sure the males and females are kept separate while they’re here—for obvious reasons.”

“Like on opposite sides of the island? It seems to me that a buck could just sneeze and impregnate every doe in the vicinity.”

Gus laughed. She couldn’t tell if Marshall was horrified or impressed. But then her computer beeped and dragged her mind off the legendary fertility status of the common rabbit.

“Oh.” The program had finished running, and she was staring at the final result of the census. She looked at Marshall. “We have our number.”

He shot her a dazzling smile and pushed off the wall, striding to the opposite side of the table and placing his hands on the edge. “Well?”

Curiosity and excitement tinged his tone, and even from the other side, his presence was wildly tangible. Gus’s heart tapped a funny little dance in her chest. “Were you right? Was it two hundred?”

“Close. Not counting the kits, it’s one hundred and eighty-nine.”

He blinked, his expression suddenly daunted. “We’re going to find homes for that many rabbits?”

She smiled at him. “You bet your ass we will.”