Adam

by Foster, Lori

  As she literally tiptoed, she whispered, “All I had was cheese. I’m not much for lunchmeat or hot dogs or any of that nasty stuff.”

  “Cheese will work.” As she eased down beside him, Adam added, “And hot dogs are not nasty.”

  The cat watched her warily, braced to run, so she didn’t debate the point with him. “How’d you get him to trust you so quickly?”

  Adam now had his hand repeatedly coasting down the length of the cat’s back, all the way to the tip of his tail. “I repeated some of the things I’ve heard Dad say, in the way he usually says them. It’s worked before on kids at the school, but I’d never tried it on a feral cat.”

  “You sure he’s feral?”

  “I think so. But also desperate. She’s way too skinny—”

  “She?”

  Just then the cat high-stepped away from them, tail up as Adam stroked her. Isabella looked, made a face, and said, “I don’t see anythin’.”

  Amusement curved his mouth. “That’s the point.”

  “Oh.”

  “Anyway, she’s got a few superficial injuries, and she needs to eat more. And I’m pretty sure she has fleas.”

  That sounded horrible, all of it, and Isabella’s heart broke just a little. “Poor baby.”

  “I suggest we try to get her in a crate, then we can take her to Dad. He’ll fix her up.”

  We? Did he mean now? Starting to worry, she asked, “And then what?”

  He rolled a shoulder. “Then you have a cat.”

  She considered it, and liked the idea. “What does that entail, exactly?”

  Adam gave her a quick, searching look. “You’ve never had a pet?”

  “No.”

  His expression softened, almost as if he felt sorry for her.

  That didn’t offend her because she also thought it was pretty sad that she’d never had a pet to love.

  “Hmm…let’s see. She could get all her medical treatment right away with Dad. Then you’ll need a cat box, for sure. Regular brushings to help her stay groomed. Food, fresh water, the occasional treats… Overall cats are pretty independent. And given this one has been raised outside, I doubt you’d be able to keep her in.”

  Issy nodded, but said, “You mentioned your dad?”

  “He’s a vet.”

  “Right, I know that.” He was the most respected vet in three counties. “But don’t we need an appointment?”

  Moving slowly so he wouldn’t spook the cat, Adam lifted a hip and retrieved his cell phone. Using only his thumb, he cleared a passcode, pulled up a number, and put through the call.

  A second later, Jordan Sommerville answered.

  Adam explained the situation, checked the time on his phone, and said to Issy, “We don’t need an appointment.”

  “Oh.” For some reason, she blushed. “Um…good.”

  He went back to listening, nodded, and asked her, “Lunch with my dad okay by you?”

  Lunch. With his father.

  When she hesitated, Jordan said something else into the phone. Adam half smiled. “Dad said he’s buying.”

  What in the world? What did any of that mean? And why would his father want to have lunch with her?

  Confused, she asked, “What about the cat?”

  “Dad will keep her overnight. We can grab a bite after he treats her.”

  Clearly she’d been out-maneuvered, she just didn’t know why. Willing to play along, she pasted on a smile. “That sounds lovely. Thank you.”

  Adam listened to his dad again, nodded a few more times, and finally ended the call by saying, “If by some chance I don’t catch her, I’ll call you back.”

  Catch her? After that odd exchange, Adam turned his head, lifted a brow, and smiled at Isabella.

  She wondered if he meant the cat, or her.

  * * *

  ISSY DIDN’T HAVE a crate so the cat was in a cardboard box and she wasn’t happy about it. Catching her had been easy. Issy had put more food in the box and in the cat went. When he’d closed the flaps, though, she’d flipped out and hadn’t settled down since.

  Now changed into white jean shorts and a pretty sky blue top, Issy drove them to town in her small compact car. She swallowed repeatedly, winced at the cat’s mournful cries, and cringed when it attempted to attack the box.

  Adam had secured the box with rope and held it on his lap. He didn’t want to take any chances on having a furious, feral cat loose in the small enclosed space.

  “Shh, shh,” he said. “It’s okay, girl. Dad’s anxious to meet you, and I promise you’ll like him.”

  Looking very unsure, Isabella spared him a quick glance. “You are talkin’ to the cat, right?”

  He looked her over, from her tensed shoulders to her smooth thighs and everywhere in between, then said only, “It applies to you both.” For as long as he’d known her, Issy had exuded confidence and competence. Now, though, she looked out of her realm.

  “Adam?”

  “Hmm?”

  Her slim throat worked as she swallowed. “How come your father wanted to have lunch?”

  He fibbed and said, “You’re saving a cat. Dad respects that, so he’d like to meet you.” And he’s cagey and intuitive and he knows I’m interested.

  But no reason to share all that when she already seemed so unsure.

  Was it because he hadn’t given her enough time to put on make-up? Not that Issy needed it, anyway. In the short time they’d been in the yard, she’d gotten some sun and her cheeks, as well as the tip of her nose, were pink. She’d pulled her dark red hair into a loose knot on top of her head, but little silky curls drifted around her temples, her ears, and her nape. Long brown lashes shaded her bright blue eyes and her slim brows continually drew together, telling him whenever she fell into puzzling thought.

  Adorable.

  Sexy.

  And he wanted her.

  Still.

  More.

  “Talk to the cat,” she ordered. “You make me nervous when you stare.”

  Instead of looking away, he asked, “What’s on your agenda after lunch?”

  “Reckon I’ll go to a pet store to grab some supplies. When she comes home, I need to be prepared.”

  After clawing a hole in the side of the box, the cat pressed one eye to it and stared at Issy. Or more like glared.

  She gulped and gripped the wheel tighter.

  Adam couldn’t help but laugh. “I promise she’ll settle down. But like I said, she might never be an inside cat. Which just means you’ll have to be extra diligent about keeping fresh water and food available outside, watching for ticks and fleas, and keeping her treated.”

  They pulled into the lot of his dad’s clinic. Despite being a Sunday, several cars were there. One Sunday a month the clinic spayed and neutered strays—this must be the day.

  Issy parked, then hustled around to his side of the car. All the way in, she fussed and fluttered around as if wanting to help but unsure what to do.

  “Take a breath,” Adam told her. “It’s going to be fine.”

  But like listening to a baby cry, hearing the cat’s forlorn meowing kept her frantic.

  A half-dozen neighbors sat in the waiting room, some with dogs, some with cats. They all stared as Adam and Issy came in. Being it was such a small county, he had no doubt Buckhorn would soon be alive with gossip that the middle school librarian was with the gym teacher.

  And truthfully, that suited him just fine.

  After only a few minutes they were shown to a room, but then waited another fifteen minutes before his dad could join them.

  Issy heard him before they saw him and she went on alert. Watching her watch the door, Adam saw her eyes go a little wider, her lips part slightly…

 
Why did every little thing seem so sexy?

  Jordan stepped in with a smile. “Adam, Isabella. Sorry you had to wait.”

  Issy jumped to her feet in a rush. “Dr. Sommerville, thank you. It’s obvious you’re busy and I appreciate you makin’ the time to see us.”

  Without slowing down, his dad smiled at her, took her hands, and smiled some more. “My pleasure, I promise.”

  Issy’s “deer in the headlights” stillness amused Adam. He said again, “Breathe, honey. It’s going to be okay.”

  His dad released her and turned his knowing gaze on Adam.

  Adam, well used to his dad’s ways, didn’t blink an eye. But Issy, hands locked together, frowned.

  After a slow smile, Jordan’s focus went to the cat. “The little lady isn’t happy.”

  Seeing Issy’s expression, Adam almost laughed. The cat, he mouthed to her, then grinned when she blushed.

  Adam set the box on a metal table and stepped back to let his dad do his thing.

  He did it really well.

  “Easy now, sweetheart. It’s all right.” Jordan kept talking, nonsense mostly, soft words to sooth the cat.

  As she listened, Issy’s eyes went heavy—as if mesmerized. His dad often had that effect. He could talk to a buzzard and make it coo. Many times his effect had carried over to humans, especially female humans.

  His mom sure hadn’t been immune.

  When Jordan opened the box, Issy backed up next to Adam, expecting the worst after all the cat’s snarling complaints.

  Instead, as his dad lifted her out and cradled her close, all you could hear were her purrs.

  “That’s amazin’,” Issy breathed.

  “Dad has his ways,” Adam murmured.

  “I’d heard, but I’d never seen.” Still watching Jordan, she let out a breath. “You have a true gift, Dr. Sommerville.”

  “Call me Jordan,” he murmured, and twenty minutes later, he had the cat happily settled in a roomy crate with soft bedding and dishes of food and water.

  “Tomorrow I’ll get the results of the blood tests,” his dad told them. “Once she’s better rested, we’ll treat her for fleas and any other pests. Do you have a name for her that I can enter in the medical records?”

  Issy, still watching the cat with a very soft expression, shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I hadn’t even thought about it.”

  “You’re keeping her?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  Adam saw that she’d already won over his dad, but that decision definitely cinched the deal. Jordan Sommerville was a sucker for anyone who cared for his beloved animals.

  Satisfied, Adam said, “We’ll come up with something over lunch.” He slipped his arm around her, a move his dad noted, just as Adam had intended. He’d get his dad on his side, and some of the townsfolk.

  Knowing Amber was out to set Isabella up with other men, staking a claim—even a temporary one—seemed like a very good idea.

  * * *

  ISABELLA WANTED TO melt under the table.

  The second they’d walked into the diner, Sawyer and Morgan Hudson, Adam’s uncles, had waved them over to their four-seat table. A waitress was beckoned to bring a fifth chair and now they were all squeezed together.

  How in the world had she gotten into this situation?

  Three of the four patriarchs of Buckhorn were currently smiling at her, and she just plain didn’t understand it.

  While they waited for their food, the men all engaged her in conversation. She knew each of them, of course. You couldn’t live in Buckhorn and not know them.

  As the town doctor, Sawyer ran a private practice out of his home, something he’d been doing since the day he got his medical license. In his mid-sixties, silver tinged his black hair and smile lines emphasized his chocolate brown eyes. He was still a very handsome man with an athletic build that she knew he’d gotten from working on the family property whenever he didn’t have patients to see.

  Morgan, only a little younger than Sawyer, remained a beast of a man, broad in the shoulders and thick in the chest. He had the same silver-tipped black hair but with vivid blue eyes that seemed to see everything. He’d once been sheriff but was now the mayor, and very involved in community service.

  Jordan, the youngest of the three in his late fifties, had a very different look. Sun-kissed brown hair and deep green eyes. The only thing he shared with the others was his height and athletic build.

  The entire clan—all of Adam’s family—were physical specimens, beyond nice, and respected by everyone.

  Figured the man she wanted most would be related to the town’s leading family. Sighing, she accepted that she’d gone into it with her eyes wide open, well aware of his relatives. When she thought of Adam, it just plain didn’t matter what complications there might be.

  “So you’re adopting a cat?” Sawyer asked.

  “More like the cat adopted me,” she said. “But yes, I’m happy to keep her.”

  “We have a project going to help feral cats,” Morgan told her. “Where there’s one, there’s usually more. So if you see them, let me know.”

  Going cautious, Issy asked, “What would you do?”

  Sawyer laughed. “Not what you might be thinking. No one in my family would take part in destroying an animal.”

  Letting the tension out of her shoulders, Isabella smiled. “Good to know.”

  “We TNR,” Morgan explained. “Trap, neuter, release.”

  Fascinated, she asked, “How exactly does that work?”

  “We get them treated, spayed or neutered,” Sawyer said, “then notch an ear so we can recognize them later in case they get trapped again. Some can be domesticated, but some prefer to stay wild.”

  Jordan added, “Cats are more capable than you’d think. As long as they aren’t growing their colony, they survive.”

  Adam’s thigh brushed hers as he shifted toward her. “You know Nadine, Shohn’s wife?”

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat to take the squeak out of her voice. “She runs that adorable pet hotel.”

  “Well, she’s helping a lot. Uncle Gabe built her a huge structure where quite a few cats can live until they’re adopted. It gives them partial access to the yard, and plenty of ways to climb. Uncle Gabe started calling it Nadine’s ‘cat sanctuary’ and the name stuck.”

  His uncle, Gabe Kasper, was the only one currently not on site. As the youngest of the brothers, Gabe had once cultivated quite the reputation as a wild hedonist. But now, as a man happily settled into the domestic life with a wife he adored and three grown daughters of his own, the rep was merely a tool for his family to tease him.

  His daughters were all sinfully gorgeous like him, but feminine, with pale blond hair and big blue eyes and the same flirtatious nature as their dad. Since he was the town’s best handyman, Isabella had once hired him to do some roof repairs, so she knew him a little better than the others.

  Worried about the feral cats, she asked, “What if they never get adopted?”

  “Then they’ll live out the rest of their lives at Nadine’s,” Jordan told her. “Safe and cared for, but of course, it’s not an ideal situation.”

  “Those poor babies.” She hadn’t even met the other cats, but already her heart broke for them.

  “The key,” Adam said, “is to get as many of them fixed as we can. That’ll at least slow down the population.”

  “Is there any way I can help?”

  All the men grinned at her, and even more odd than that was Adam’s look of approval…or maybe even pride—though that didn’t make any sense. But then he draped a possessive arm over her shoulders, and the rest shared a knowing look.

  “All right,” Isabella said, flattening her hands on the table and glaring at each man, especially Adam. �
�What is goin’ on here?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WITH PROPITIOUS TIMING, the waitress brought their food, interrupting what looked to be a small explosion in Issy’s attitude. Course, she hadn’t missed the way his relatives kept sizing her up. Although favorably, it still had to be a little disconcerting.

  Leaning in, Adam whispered near her ear, “Relax. They just like you. That’s all.”

  “It’s more than that,” she muttered back. “I’m startin’ to feel like a virgin sacrifice.”

  Morgan guffawed, making Issy go red and drawing the attention of other diners.

  Sawyer elbowed him. “I’m sure you weren’t supposed to hear that.”

  “Not like we’re deaf,” Morgan said, defending himself.

  Jordan smiled at her. “We’re aging, but haven’t yet lost our faculties.”

  Issy picked up a giant loaded burger that matched almost exactly what the rest of them had ordered. After saying, “You’re all outrageous, that’s what you are,” she took a big bite.

  And damn if that didn’t earn even more approval from the elders.

  Morgan opened his mouth, and Adam rushed to say, “You’re going to scare her off. You realize that, right?”

  “Is that so?” Jordan asked, munching on a fry while scrutinizing Issy. “You quick to turn tail and run?”

  “No.” She took another bite, eyed them all while she chewed, and after a drink of her cola, she asked, “Mind tellin’ me why I’m being sized up, though?”

  This time there was no shushing Morgan. “The boy’s been hanging with all the wrong kind of girls.”

  Smiling with false sweetness, Issy chided him. “I presume you mean women?”

  “I’ll call ’em what I like, and sometimes, with Adam’s preferences, girl is more apt.”

  “Mostly vacationers,” Jordan said with a lot of meaning.

  Issy cocked a brow. “What’s wrong with vacationers?”

  “They’re temporary.”

  “Ah.” She looked more confused than ever.

  “You’re different,” Sawyer tossed out.

  “I’m definitely local, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Sure, that—and more.”