Anthony: Signature Sweethearts Book Seven

by Rae, Kelsie

  “And how do we do that?”

  “Holding and petting them, but we need to keep their temperatures up. The easiest way to do this is with skin-to-skin contact.”

  “You know, if you wanted me to take my shirt off again, you could’ve just asked,” he teases.

  I grin. “But where’s the fun in that?”

  With a dry laugh, he reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head, giving me the same mouth-watering view from earlier while letting me have my fill of tan skin and rippling muscles. His voice snaps me out of my daydream, and I not-so-subtly check for drool as he says, “Ya know, when the judge sentenced me to community service, I didn’t know it included being ogled while half naked.”

  “Should’ve read the fine print,” I quip.

  Throwing his head back, he laughs even harder before flexing his muscles like the meatheads at the gym in front of the mirrors.

  “Touché,” he acknowledges before opening his arms and using a come hither motion. “Now, bring on the kitties.”

  Kitties. I smile.

  Something about the way he says kitties makes my stomach flutter. Probably because most of the men I meet think I’m a crazy cat lady. They’ve never understood the why behind what I do, and even though I’ve tried not to let it bug me, it still has. Regardless, I shake off the feeling and turn to the cage in the corner of the room. The heat lamp I’ve been using to help regulate their body temperatures is attached to the side, but I think some personal contact would be even more important in their fragile state.

  Swinging the cage door open, I reach inside and grab the weakest of the bunch.

  “Here’s the runt. I’ve tried to get her to eat, but she’s not a fan. Think you could snuggle her and convince her to swallow some formula?” I hand her over then mix up a fresh serving of nutrients that I pray the kitten will try.

  Anthony looks like a fish out of water as he holds the little girl in his giant hands before I gently nudge his forearm into his chest.

  “Hold her closer. Let her feel your heat. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  “She’s just so small,” he breathes, looking down at the little kitten he could crush with ease. She’s only two and a half ounces and needs some special attention if she has any hope of making it.

  “She is,” I acknowledge, trying to keep my tone light while ignoring the severity of the situation.

  I catch myself staring as he ruffles the kitten’s ear, his gaze holding nothing but unrestrained awe as he looks down at her.

  Clearing my throat, I offer the dropper of food to him. “Here. I just finished feeding them, but she needs all that she can get. Want to go into the family room and turn on a show or something while you try to get her to eat a little more?”

  Shaking his head, he takes a seat on a folding chair tucked against the wall next to the door and sets her down on his stomach while his other hand acts like a blanket as it rests on top of her. “Nah, I’ll just stay here. Not really in the mood for a show, anyway.”

  “You sure?” I feel guilty for waking him up so early.

  “Yeah. Plus, pretty sure I wouldn’t find anything on TV as entertaining as this little rat.”

  I laugh. “Rat?”

  Quirking his brow, he motions to the kitten. “I mean….”

  “Good point,” I concede with a smile. “She’ll look more like a kitty the older she gets. If she starts eating, that is.”

  My somber tone brings us back to the reality of the situation, and he peers down at her all over again. “We’ll get her to eat. Does she have a name?”

  I shake my head. “Nope. Not yet. Do you have any ideas?”

  He takes a second to think it over as I shift from one foot to the other. Seeing this side of him? Well, needless to say, it’s not good for my ovaries…if I still had ovaries, anyway.

  “I’ll think of something.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  “How are the others?” He shifts his gaze to the cage where the two boys are snuggled under the heat lamp.

  “They’re doing okay. Still need some help with their body temperature, but they were willing to drink from the dropper, so I’m counting it as a win for now.”

  “Good. That’s real good.”

  “It is,” I agree. “I need to get some paperwork ready for an adoptive family that will be by later today to pick up the gray and white boy you picked up from the shelter the other day. Are you good here?”

  With a hint of panic, he sits up. “Uh, are you sure? I mean, I’ve never dealt with baby animals before.”

  I step closer and drop to my knees, bringing me way too close to all that tan skin on full display before reaching for the dropper in his hand. “You’ll be fine. I already tried about thirty minutes ago to get her to eat, but I wanted to try again since I wasn’t too successful last time. All you have to do is hold her little face and put the dropper by her mouth before releasing a little bit of formula from the tip, and, hopefully, she’ll lap it up. The goal is to get her to drink, and every tiny bit helps.”

  Demonstrating, I squeeze the rubber ball on the top of the syringe until a bead of milk hangs from it before letting it drip on the kitten’s lips. Unfortunately, it simply rolls down the side of her mouth without any of it going down her throat.

  With his face pinched in concern, Anthony looks over at me and asks, “I’m going to assume that she’s going to need to get better at the whole swallowing part, right?”

  “That’s the goal.”

  “Then, let’s get it done. Come on, little kitty. We’ve got this.” Determination oozes from his pores as he brings his attention back to the kitten and fills the syringe with liquid before holding her head gently and attempting to feed her by himself.

  As I go to stand, my hand grazes his knee, and I jolt back like I’ve just been shocked. Sensing my unease, Anthony gives me a cocky smirk, but doesn’t say anything as he focuses on the little kitten resting on his bare chest, leaving me to my own devices.

  “So…I guess I’ll just get to those papers.” I lift my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the office as Anthony murmurs, “Sounds good,” clearly dismissing me and my images of a sexy, shirtless, demigod hanging out with baby kittens.

  Swoon.

  Pretty sure if I took a picture and made a calendar, it would sell millions within a week. Just sayin’.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Anthony

  “So––hypothetically, of course––would you ever consider doing something super random with me?”

  With a dry laugh at her randomness, I look up at her. “I’m sorry…what?”

  She rolls her eyes then raises her hands defensively. “Okay, so I had a really weird idea, and it might be a little out of your comfort zone, but I think it could be fun. And since I’m all about spontaneity, I figured I’d run it past you to see what you thought.”

  Because I’m a guy, the first thing that pops into my head is a vision of the little pink-haired beauty dropping to her knees like she did earlier today. Only with a completely different––and much dirtier––purpose in mind. I clear my throat and shift in my seat as I process the clues she’s given me. A weird idea? That could be fun and is definitely spontaneous while also being out of my comfort zone. I mean, I’m not a complete moron for jumping to a sexual conclusion, am I? Or maybe I am, but you can’t blame a guy who hasn’t had sex in nine months. I drop my head back as the number comes to the forefront of my mind. Nine months? That’s embarrassing, to say the least, but when you’ve only been with one person, and they left you for someone else? Yeah, it doesn’t feel too good. Needless to say, my confidence has been shaken. Hell, it was shoved in a damn blender along with my heart, leaving me pulverized. You can’t blame me for being hesitant to jump into the sack with someone else, let alone stumble into a bar in search of an elusive one-night stand. Nope. Not really something I even considered a possibility.

  But the girl in front of me? The one suggesting somethi
ng spontaneous that could be fun? Consider my curiosity piqued.

  Leaning forward, I clutch the little kitten to my chest, resting my elbows on my knees. “And what’s that?”

  “Well, it’s just…” she hedges. “The whole shirtless thing with kittens? It’s a good look for you, and the more I think about it––”

  “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” I interrupt, my blood pulsing south as her cheeks turn pink.

  “Maybe? I mean…what do you think? If that’s weird for you––”

  I shake my head. “I think we could definitely work something out. In fact, it might be exactly what I need,” I admit.

  “Really?” The surprise is clear in her voice, making me laugh.

  “Yeah. As long as we set up some ground rules first.”

  “Oh, of course,” she rushes. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or anything. And you’d really be helping me out. Plus, it’s for a good cause.”

  I can’t help but smirk at the last part before the lust clears from my system, and my brows furrow. “Cause? What cause?”

  “The cats?” she returns, though it comes out as more of a question than anything else. Now, I think we’re both lost.

  “Wait…what’s for the cats?” I ask, standing from my seated position while holding the kitten in my hand.

  “The photoshoot? For a hot guys and cats calendar?”

  “A what?”

  “A cat calendar. You know, where hot guys pose with cats, and then we sell them to people as gag gifts, even though they secretly like checking out the shirtless men? Those calendars.”

  “How the hell was I supposed to connect posing for a calendar with a weird idea that could be fun?” I spit, feeling confused and slightly embarrassed for my initial assumption.

  “Well, what did you think I was talking about? No offense, but you seemed pretty on board.”

  “Well, yeah. That’s ‘cause I thought you were talking about something else.”

  “And what did you think I was talking about?” she probes, propping her hand on her hip.

  My jaw clenches as I consider voicing my initial assumption out loud.

  Nope. Not happening.

  “Nothing,” I grit out before attempting to step around her, but she grabs my forearm and stops me.

  “Come on, Anthony. Tell me.”

  Looking down at her dainty fingers as they grasp my arm, I swallow before chancing a glance at her eyes. When I find them peering up at me with open curiosity, I mumble, “I’m not looking for a relationship.”

  “Excuse me?” She doesn’t scoff or back away. Instead, her tone portrays her hesitant curiosity the same way mine did.

  “I said I’m not looking for a relationship.”

  “Well, I don’t do relationships in the first place so….”

  “So, I have a proposition which happens to be the same one I thought you were suggesting a few minutes ago.” I can’t believe I’m actually considering this, let alone voicing it out loud. But once the idea sparked, I can’t let it go.

  “And what proposition is that?” she probes, her hand still resting on my forearm.

  “Something spontaneous––and maybe a little out of the ordinary––but that could be fun?”

  Her mouth quirks, finally understanding how I had jumped to a very wrong conclusion. “And what’s that?”

  “Let me kiss you. No strings attached.”

  “And why would I let you do that?” she breathes. Her eyes drop down to my mouth as they tilt up in triumph.

  “Because you’re just as curious as I am.”

  The room is pulsing with electricity, threatening to make us both ignite with the tiniest spark. “Even if that were true, it’s a terrible idea.”

  “Says who?” I counter.

  “Everyone?”

  “Never pegged you for someone who cares what others think, Sway Swenson.”

  “Never pegged you for someone who doesn’t, Anthony Wright.”

  “Touché,” I reply honestly as all the restraints from the old Anthony’s life filter through my mind. I hate that I let others affect me. I hate that I actively participated in the rat race for money and power while hating every minute of it. I hate that I cared what other people thought of me. I shake the thoughts off and focus on the task at hand.

  “Look, I want to kiss you just to kiss you. Just to see what you taste like. What it would be like to graze my fingers against your bare skin? To see your pink hair splayed across my chest after mind-blowing sex––which is what I assume we’d have together. No strings. No attachments. No relationships. Just fun.”

  She quirks her brow. “Can you do that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Fun? Can you do just fun? No strings? No attachments? No relationships?”

  I swallow, feeling the weight of her question deep in my soul because I’ve always wondered the same thing. Can I do that? I’ve never even considered no-strings-attached sex because I always had Indie, and I’d always assumed my life would turn out with three kids and a dog, with a little house and green grass in the summers. But the old Anthony? Who thought those things were within reach? He’s gone.

  Clearing my throat, I tell her, “Just because I haven’t done it in the past, doesn’t mean I’m not capable.”

  “And if you learn you can’t keep the physical stuff separate from the emotional?”

  The answer is simple. “Then I cut it off.”

  “And you think you can do that?” she pushes.

  “Yeah. And if we’re going for total honesty right now, I should probably tell you that I think the emotional Anthony was burned pretty bad in the past. I don’t see him coming out to play anytime soon.”

  She nods her understanding, and I appreciate the sincerity in her gaze. And the lack of pity that accompanies it.

  “But you think the physical Anthony is ready for that kind of connection?”

  I harden at the prospect. “With someone like you? Hell. Yes.”

  “And you know I don’t do relationships,” she reiterates for what feels like the hundredth time in this conversation.

  Laughing, I lean down until my mouth hovers over hers. “Yeah. Pretty sure you made that clear.”

  “Good.”

  “So…is that a yes?”

  Her eyes connect with mine, pleading for me to close the distance between us as she murmurs, “It’s a maybe.”

  Before she can utter a single syllable more, I kiss her. Hell, I kiss her so damn hard, I’m surprised my name isn’t tattooed on her lips by the time I pull away only to dive back in for a second round. Her mouth opens, and my tongue darts inside, stealing a taste of her that only ignites my appetite.

  With a soft whimper, her fingers dig into my sides, resting just above the hem of my jeans as they hang low on my hips, my shirt still absent. I respond by snaking my arm around her lower back and pulling her closer until we’re almost chest to chest with only a few inches between us. The kitten squirms in my other hand, its claws scratching my wrist and bringing me back to reality like a bucket of ice water.

  I lurch back and look down at Sway’s hazy eyes as she stares back at me. Feeling parched, I release my hold on her waist, and she drops her arms from my sides before awkwardly tucking her hair behind her ear.

  “Well, that was….”

  “Something?” I offer, making her laugh.

  “Yeah. Something. Look, that was….”

  So good, I think to myself. Hell, it was explosive. I can’t believe I stopped. My hand twitches at my side, begging me to pull her closer and go in for another round.

  Her cheeks heat as if she reads my mind, and she takes a different approach. “I know I’ve already reiterated it, but are you sure you’re okay doing this whole friends plus benefits thing? It doesn’t really seem like your cup of tea.”

  Memories from my previous––and only––relationship hit me in a blurry haze, but that only steels my resolve. With a brisk nod, I confi
rm, “Yeah. Never been more sure of anything in my life.”

  “Well, okay then.”

  “Okay then,” I repeat with a smile.

  The hesitation is clear on her face as she runs her fingers through her hair. “Will you let me think about it?”

  I nod, though a wave of defeat hits me square in the chest. “Yeah, sure. Take your time.”

  I just hope I don’t chicken out when she finally makes a decision.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sway

  “Hey, Mama.” Pressing the phone between my ear and shoulder, I take a quick sip of my tea and take in the gorgeous sunrise peeking over the mountains. My home isn’t very big, and I don’t have a lot of land, but the view is incredible.

  “Hey, Swayze Girl. How’re the kitties?”

  Smiling, I picture Anthony snuggling with all three of them while watching a movie last night before I remember that I’m talking to my mom––who definitely doesn’t need those particular details––and find my voice to answer. “They’re doing a lot better. It’s been really nice to have an extra set of hands to help me keep up with everything.”

  “I can imagine it’s been very helpful. He seems like a nice man.”

  “He is.”

  “And how’s he doing? Everything going okay?”

  Between my mom and my sisters, there isn’t a single secret that can be kept in the Swenson family, so I’m not surprised when I catch her not-so-subtly fishing for information.

  As I debate whether or not I should fill her in, I imagine both conversations coming to fruition in my head as if it’s my own version of Schrodinger's cat before deciding to let her play me like a fiddle for two reasons. One, I can still feel Anthony’s bruising kiss from last night, and I am dying for someone to bring me back down to earth where they can tell me what a terrible idea it is to mess with him. And two, because I know she’s expecting me to change the subject, and I enjoy keeping her on her toes too much to be that predictable.