by Taryn Quinn
“I’m a temp.”
“Explains a little. You don’t look like any paralegal I ever knew.”
“Lowly admin, I’m afraid.”
“Never lowly.” His dimple flashed again. “My admin would de-ball me if I said such things.”
I laughed. “You sound like my friend Luna.”
“Sounds like I’d like Luna. We should all go for coffee.” He frowned. “Wait, that didn’t come out right.” He grabbed the back of his neck. “I mean, we should go out for coffee but if you’re more comfortable in a crowd—man, I’m out of practice.”
I laughed. “That’s sweet.” My pocket vibrated and I sighed. “I gotta get back.”
“Right. Sure.” He gave me a rueful smile. “Thanks, fair Ryan.”
Poppy slid her hand into her dad’s. “Thanks, Ryan. I liked squishing my feet with you.”
“And I liked squishing my feet in the grass with you too.” I waved and padded to the edge of the grass then put my heels back on.
I checked my phone, and sure enough, PMS was looking for me. Considering I hadn’t taken a real lunch today, he could hold his very nice ass. And I ignored the immediate flutter at seeing his name.
Why, oh why, could that have happened with hot single dad with the accent?
When I drew that Page of Swords that morning, I had no idea I’d literally have a child flying into my life. The Universe had a damn sense of humor. Sighing, I crossed to Preston’s building. As I got into the elevator, my phone buzzed again. I checked the readout and typed back that I was on my way.
By the time the doors opened, half the lights in the office were shut off.
“PMS?”
“You do realize that using my unfortunate nickname isn’t professional.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do you see anyone here?”
“You were not here, so a client could have been in my office.”
“Don’t get your boxers in a twist. You said you had an appointment.” He was standing by my desk, a folder in hand. “Do you have anything you need me to do while you’re out?”
“No, you’ve done enough today. Try to be on time tomorrow. I have an important deposition at ten.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You mean you have one at eleven and are telling me an hour earlier?” I knew since I kept his schedule for him.
“It was just moved ahead. If you weren’t out galavanting, you’d have gotten the email notification.”
“Look, I skipped lunch thanks to prepping for your last client. Give me a break.”
He crossed his arms, his file tucked against his chest. “Is there a problem? You seem a little surlier than usual.”
“And how would you know that?” I was trying to rein it in, but he was right.
“We usually enjoy a sort of banter.”
“Enjoy?”
He dropped his hands to his sides. “Okay, now I know something’s wrong. I know for a fact you enjoy needling me.”
“It’s just a little residual energy from Stacey. I’ll be fine once I have a shower.”
“You didn’t shower this morning?” He frowned. “I—” He cleared his throat. “I’d have to say that was a definite yes from our…situation earlier.”
“Situation? Oh. The neck thing.” And the kissing thing. And the so many inappropriate tingles thing.
No big deal.
He frowned. “You forgot? Are there so many men in the same spot that you’ve forgotten?”
“What’s it to you? You’re the one with all the rules, not me. I’m a free agent.”
Yet annoyingly, that freaking delicious vet had done nothing for me. Sure, I was free as a damn bird.
Preston stiffened and a sheet of paper slipped from the folder and floated onto my shoe. He lunged for it, but I was quicker. My stomach bottomed out and every ounce of moisture dried in my mouth.
Dating profile.
Needs.
Likes.
Dislikes.
He snatched the page out of my hands. “That’s none of your business.”
No, it really wasn’t my business. He was so very right about that. “Nice to see that you don’t want to actually enter a monastery, PMS.” I arched my brow and loosened my muscles until it seemed as if I really didn’t give two craps.
Even if I literally wanted to rip out his tongue and slap him with it. Goddamn him.
“I’m not a monk. I’m just careful with my sexual partners.”
“Oh, right? You work all the time and won’t dip your wick in the office ink. So what does that leave you with but a dating service? Not shocking really.”
He so didn’t seem the type. Then again, Mr. Logic probably loved the idea of a computer shitting out his perfect match.
Blond, petite, unassuming.
Not me.
Of course.
He crowded into me. “Is that right? You think I need a dating service?”
It was unnerving that he was taller than me. Most men were not. I hadn’t gotten used to it yet. Maybe I never would.
I tipped my chin up to meet his gaze, and then I slid my knee between his legs. “You aren’t willing to seal the deal with me, so it’s not surprising you need a hand.”
Shock hadn’t let me really comprehend what I’d been reading other than the profile part. I dragged my finger across his lower lip. “So what gets that big…brain of yours hot? A sweet little blond with a soft voice? Deferential, polite. Punctual.” I said the last word with a hint of bite.
“Why don’t you come with me and find out?”
“Excuse me?” My spine snapped straight, and I took a step back. “Pretty sure your date wouldn’t be into a threesome.” My neck heated. “Or do I have you pegged wrong? Emphasis on the peg.”
“What? No. Peg?” He shook his head. “I don’t want to know. Your mind is startling. The tracks it takes are absurd and astounding.” He turned to the briefcase sitting on my desk and slid the folder inside. “No, it’s a speed dating appointment.”
“I thought you said you didn’t like to do everything fast. Guess that was just you being boastful.”
It was his turn to arch his brow. “Are you frightened? Don’t think you can survive a speed round, Miss Moon?”
“Oh, honey. You don’t know what I can survive.”
He snapped the locks and lifted the black leather briefcase. “I dare you to come.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Afraid you won’t procure yourself a date?”
Me and my grass stained skirt could out-date his repressed suit with my hands tied. “You really want me to show you up in front of all those people, PMS?”
He smiled. “I’m game if you are.”
Twelve
How I found myself in his car and not walking back to my own damn apartment, I really didn’t know. Pretty sure it was the red haze of annoyance and jealousy that put my ass in his beige car.
Beige. So him and yet so not.
The energy and colors vibrated out of him when our lips locked, but then like a switch, his aura became the equivalent of flat ecru wall paint. I wasn’t sure how he did it. Were his shields that good?
Did he even know he had them?
Why did I care?
I tapped my fingers on my thigh to the music playing on low. It was some watery, mid-tempo type song that I would listen to while I was sketching. Not exactly the stuff I’d listen to in the car. The car was for loud music—pop, singalong hair metal, classic rock—anything but sleepy chill out stuff.
Then again, he was driving a Grandpa car.
Why was this the guy who got my libido to sit up and take notice? Was it just because I’d been in a drought? Not on purpose or anything. I just had been happily in my own lane for work and enjoying spending time with friends instead of looking for someone to get horizontal with.
“So, how much is this going to cost me?”
“I’ll cover your entry fee.”
“I can handle my own finances, thanks.”
His
lips twitched. “Two hundred.”
“What? Are we meeting billionaires or something?”
“For two hundred dollars?”
“Fair.” I crossed my arms. I could afford it, but damn, that was steep. “I suppose that gets rid of the players.”
“One would think.”
Then again, he’d had his lips on mine a short time before he put himself out there for the next twenty or so eligible bachelorettes. Guys were pigs. Even the supposed good ones.
I’d learned that growing up with a free spirit for a mother. She’d gotten hurt so many times I lost count. Men promising she was the one, if only that pesky wife wasn’t in the picture. And yet, the wife was never out of the picture.
Preston took a left, away from the eateries, cafés, and shopping district of Kensington Square and headed into the heart of Syracuse. The maze of byways and highways took us deeper into the flat grays and industrial flavor of the city.
“Where is this place?”
“Not far.”
I dug my phone out of my bag. “What’s the name of it?”
He was silent for a beat too long. Enough that I gave him some serious side eye. His finger tapped on the steering wheel. “It’s new. There’s no site.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Everything has a site. That’s how you market these days. Especially for startups.”
“Patience, Miss Moon.”
I huffed out a growl and scrolled through my messages, but unfortunately, there wasn’t anything pressing or interesting to reply to. Luna had a group session tonight at her new apartment building. A few of the tenants had been interested in learning about tarot.
Not that I wanted to tell her I was going to some random speed dating event tonight—especially if I didn’t ask her to come. She’d kill me.
Hell, she would kill me when she found out. She always knew.
I straightened in my seat as Preston pulled into…a clinic? I turned to him. “What the hell are you into, PMS?”
He didn’t answer me, just got out and came around to open my door. I was so flabbergasted I didn’t even try to open my own door. He held his hand out for me, and I couldn’t think of a good reason not to take it. Especially when his eyes dared me to say no.
The hum and near burn of contact darkened my mood even further. I quickly snatched my hand out of his, swung my bag over my shoulder, and stalked for the door.
A huge window took up most of the front of the building. It was decorated with hearts and flowers in colorful window paint. Balloons decorated the door and were also tied to one of those chalkboard sandwich boards. A rather realistic drawing of a kitten peeked from the corner with an invitation to come inside for the speed dating event.
I could feel him looming behind me, so I glanced back. “I suppose it’s only natural they need to use animals to help humans hook up.”
Preston’s eyebrow lifted, but he just gave me an amused look. And again, he managed to get around me to open the door, dammit.
The little clinic was bustling with people. The air was a bit antiseptic with a soothing overlay of lavender. As a mystical sort, I approved of the soothing use of essential oils, especially for something as nerve-inducing as meet and greets.
Secondary approval for the fact that lavender was one of the few essential oils safe for cats. It was amazing how many people could poison their animals with the essential oils craze that had taken over the world.
A short line of people were waiting to be checked in, and little pens were set up with blankets and toys for the supposed meet and greet areas. Before I could open my mouth and ask more questions, PMS took my hand and we wove around to another desk lined with pamphlets, fancy cat food adverts, and various medicines that I’d never heard of.
“I’d like to check in, and I’ve got a plus one.”
The woman behind the desk gave him a wide smile and fluttered her astoundingly fake lashes at him. Her friendly factor dimmed a few notches when she noticed me.
“Of course, Mr. Shaw.” Her fingers flew over her keyboard.
They knew him here? Just how many times had he done this kind of thing?
“I am not your plus one. How does that even work with speed dating—” I stopped short.
No way would he be into that… Or would he? How well did I know him, after all?
I swallowed and refused to assess the quick prick of sweat forming between my boobs. “Look, I’m open-minded, but I’m not really into the poly thing.”
The woman glanced up from her computer, her mouth dropping open.
Preston cleared his throat. “Do you have another application, Tracy?”
“Yes, of course.”
He handed her his sheet and the card he’d somehow whipped out when I wasn’t paying attention. “You can put both on my card.”
I lifted my chin. “I told you I can pay my own way.”
“It’s fine. My treat.”
I elbowed him out of the way as I dug into my bag. “I don’t need you to.”
He blocked me with a clipboard. “Fill that out.”
Seething, I grabbed the board and automatically filled in my details. It was a pretty clever questionnaire, to be honest. “Wait, what does this mean, ‘are you willing to take on a special needs kitten?’”
He snatched the board out of my hand and scribbled something on it in that slashing way he had. He smiled at Tracy and took my hand again. “We’ll just wait over there for things to start.”
“Right.” Her huge, overdone eyes kept darting between us and narrowed at our joined fingers.
I almost shook him off, but something wouldn’t let me. I didn’t have time to psychoanalyze my reaction before he hustled me to the side of the room near the windows. Now that I wasn’t huffing across the parking lot, I noticed cats of all different types and ages were climbing, playing, and sleeping in the little atrium. The most elaborate cat tree I’d ever seen filled the entire room.
“Pretty amazing, aren’t they?” His arm slid along my back as he braced himself behind me.
I looked up automatically. Preston’s face was too close, but there wasn’t much room since everyone in the room practically had their noses pressed to the glass. Our height difference yet again had my stupid hormones doing the samba. And the stupid ocean-tinged scent he wore was distracting as hell.
And why was he getting all up in my business anyway? He was the one who wanted us to strictly remain in our boss-employee roles. At least I thought it was mostly his idea. Okay, and I guess it had been mine too.
Except we kept kissing, and that was not entirely my fault. Then he dragged me here to this damn dating thing, and now he was definitely encroaching on my freaking personal space.
I tried to push back against him, and my ass slid across the front placket of his suit pants. Careful. I didn’t want to feel anything that would contribute to my personal failings later on.
Too late there.
I closed my eyes and drew in a calming breath. His resulting exhalation brushed the tendrils of curls near my ear.
“I made a few calls and convinced Piper Lockwood to donate one of her famous cat trees to the clinic.”
He just kept chatting along like he wasn’t half hard against my butt. “Famous?”
“Well, in cat circles anyway. She has a cat café in California that went viral, thanks in part to how clever she is and her famous rockstar husband. She only does special orders.”
I forced myself to focus on my surroundings. There were little shelves and ramps bolted to the carpeted wall. A dozen pillars in varying heights were scattered around the space, offering a dizzying array of levels for cats to perch, play, or sleep on. The room was a proverbial princess playground for cats. “So, she makes up cat trees?”
“Does that look like a typical cat tree?”
I tipped my head to study his face. “You sure know a lot about cats.”
He swallowed, his gaze bouncing from my lips to my eyes and back again. “I donate a lot to this place
. The cats they take on deserve so much more than the universe gives them.” He straightened up and moved away from me. “The least I can do is help out monetarily.”
I grabbed his tie before he could totally escape me. This was something that was important to him. There was a passion in his voice that I’d never heard before. “This isn’t a dating thing, huh?”
He gently pulled his tie out of my fingers. “No. This is a way to raise money for the treatment of these sweet animals that people forget about. And an adoption clinic for those who are ready to go to regular homes.”
“And you’re adopting a cat?”
“No—well, yes.” He folded his arms. “I usually just donate. I don’t know why I got the stupid urge to adopt one. I don’t have time for a cat.”
“Sure you do.” I patted his lapel. “You make time. It can even be a mascot cat for the law office. You know, like some have a dog. Helps to have a support animal, right?”
He frowned. “That’s not very professional.”
I shrugged. “Screw professional.”
“That may be your take on things, Miss Moon, but that’s not how I treat my business.”
“Maybe you should.”
Before he could answer me, a woman with a jaunty ponytail clapped her hands. “Attention, everyone! We’re going to start out with our first speed round. Now it won’t be super fast like the ones some of you may have been part of in the past.” Her voice was friendly and perky like Elle Woods from the Legally Blond movies. “But we want you to meet as many amazing kittens and cats as possible and hopefully, bring one home!”
She quickly told us how to line up and gave us little buzzers like people used at restaurants.
“When this goes off, you move to the next playpen. And don’t worry if you don’t find your perfect purrmate today. The entry fee will go to helping all of our special needs kittens and cats here at Kitten Around, and we truly appreciate it.”
Since I had my own buzzer, Preston and I wouldn’t be seeing the same kittens. However, I couldn’t stop myself from watching his reactions to each cat or kitten. The tentative and patient way he had with the frightened ones, and the overwhelmed delight he couldn’t disguise at the playful ones.
Okay, my ovaries were in serious peril here.