by Taryn Quinn
Ignoring the warmth in my belly, I focused on my own tiny bundle of fluff. The initial rounds had gone quickly, and we now in round four. I was thoroughly covered in kitten fur, but the energy of the room had boosted my mood.
I sat crosslegged in one of the larger pens. This was a special case with a bonded pair. The sweet white kitten with a heart-shaped spot to the left of her nose was freaking adorable. But her protective, jet black brother was a bit thornier.
I let my hands rest in my lap and didn’t make any sudden movements, allowing them to come to me. Eventually, the white one climbed up my sleeve to get to my shoulder while the black one gave me some serious side-eye.
A minute later, the little white one was purring from her perch in my curls.
Oh, crap. I had not been entertaining the thought of actually getting a cat today. Let alone a troublesome pair of pre-teens. They weren’t itty bitty kittens, but according to their paperwork, they’d been returned twice because of problematic behavior.
“You do not need this in your life, Ryan.”
Maybe if I said the intention aloud…
Then the black kitten jumped into my lap and I was sunk. He tucked himself against my hip, under the light sweater I was wearing over my black linen sundress.
I looked up and met PMS’s gaze. He smirked at my predicament as he was lightly stroking the top of an elderly cat’s head. His or her ear was torn, but it only made the cat more beautiful.
The buzzer went off in my sweater pocket.
It was now or never.
I huffed out a sigh and tucked my flag into the top of the gate to let them know I was interested in taking these kittens.
I almost took my flag back when the black cat took a swipe at my ribs when I had to move him. I lifted him gently so I could look him in the eyes. “Feisty, aren’t you?”
He yowled and leaped away.
Okay, then.
He continued to meow and yell at me until I detangled the white kitten from my hair and set her back down with him.
“All right, that’s enough. I didn’t steal her.”
He hissed at me, and I stuck my tongue out at him before I lifted my skirt to climb out of the pen.
“You want me to take away my flag?”
He flounced to the blankets heaped in the corner and settled down to stare at me.
“Look, the kitten has your temperament.”
I knew that voice. I dreamed of that damn voice.
When I elbowed Preston, he chuckled. “Planted your flag?”
“Maybe.” Both the buzzer and flag were caged in his long fingers. “I see you have not.”
“Haven’t quite met my match.” His gaze drifted to my lips then back to meet my eyes. “I’m very particular.”
I swallowed. I just bet he was. Stuffy, pent up, repressed suit that he was. Of course he’d be picky about every little thing.
He’d be very thorough.
And I needed to put that thought in a box, thank you very much.
Before I could articulate a response, Elle Woods rang her little bell for us to move to the next station. “Happy hunting.”
He stepped into the pen I’d just been visiting. “Let’s see if this little devil likes me or not.”
“Good luck.” I took a page from the kitten’s playbook and flounced.
The next few rounds included perfectly sweet cats, but none of them seemed to be especially ‘mine’.
Finally, most of the cats had been homed, and another flag was stuck beside mine for the bonded pair. Elle—aka Beverly—clapped again to get our attention.
“Thank you so much for making this such a success. Most of our lovely cats and kittens have been requested, and now we’ll just make sure everyone is a perfect fit. We have a bonus round of our more special needs cats if you’d like to stick around for that. But first, we’ll have our amazing volunteer vet come out and talk to us about what it means to be a special needs cat owner. Dr. Thorne?”
“Thanks, Beverly.”
My heart gave a little kick when I recognized my hot dad from the park. His flyaway hair was in a little more semblance of order, but those sharp cheekbones and that lilting accent were definitely the same.
Preston came up beside me while the vet discussed the things to be aware of when choosing a special needs cat. After a moment, PMS laid a proprietary hand on my lower back.
My skin did not sizzle. I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or disappointed.
“I’m not here to dissuade you from taking on a geriatric cat who needs a little more medication, or one of our more serious cases. I’m just here to answer any questions if you are of a mind to take on an animal who may need just a bit more love. We appreciate all of you for coming today. I’ll be walking around while you’re on your dates.” Dr. Thorne gave us a wide, dimpled smile and handed the mic back to Beverly.
This round of the speed dating would be slower in deference to the animals who required a little more care.
The vet caught sight of me and crossed the room. “Ryan, it’s lovely to see you again.”
“You know him?” Preston blurted.
I ignored him. “Hi, Grant. And look at you, this time you’re not even sweaty.”
“Excuse me?”
I swallowed the smile, but I was still annoyed at the hand-on-my-back thing. Hot then cold, in my business then pushing me away—PMS needed to figure out that I wasn’t his plaything. “I ran into Grant in the park today. He was chasing his dog that got loose.”
“And the fair Ryan was sweet enough to watch my daughter while Bosco sent me on a merry chase.”
“Daughter…oh, so you’re married?” Preston sounded positively giddy. For him anyway.
Grant slid his gaze to Preston. “‘Fraid not, mate. Just a dad.”
“Oh.”
“Are you interested in one of our special cases? I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.” Grant held out his hand.
“Preston Shaw.”
Their shake was firm and possibly a little overdone. I rolled my eyes and hip-checked PMS. “He hasn’t found his perfect cat yet. But he’s definitely interested. Especially if one would be good for an office space as well as a home.”
PMS gaped at me. “The animal doesn’t need to come to work with me.”
“But it would be a plus. Especially if they’re good with people.”
Grant looked from me to PMS and back. “Well, we do have a three-year-old cat who may just fit that bill.” He nodded to a gray cat who had just been released from a carrier. “We just transferred the cat from a kill shelter in Chicago so he’s had a bit of a rough start. But he’s healthy and good-natured.”
We followed the veterinarian to the pen.
A small face popped out of the carrier with a red collar and a shiny silver bell.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Preston gave me a sidelong look. “What?”
The cat buzzed the side of his head along the wires of the carrier before scampering out on three legs.
Well, that wasn’t quite like the cat who had been climbing in and out of my dreams, but he was damn close. Instead of a red tie, he had a collar, but dear goddess. He was a sleek and complete gray without any other patches of color save for a tiny white patch on his remaining front paw and another on the tip of his opposite ear.
“We don’t have a name for him,” Grant went on. “We’ve tried a few, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in any of them. So, you’d have your choice of names. And as you can see, the three legs thing doesn’t really hold him back.”
The cat did a feat of acrobatics around an arched…was that like a mobile for a child? Then he perched nimbly on top of it and started washing his chest.
Delighted, Grant rocked on his heels. “As you can see, not much holds him back.”
Preston had his arms crossed and he was nearly shouting with his closed off vibes, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off the cat.
“Miss Moon?”
I
turned to the voice at my left. Tracy from the front desk was twisting her fingers nervously. “Could I talk to you for a moment?”
I nodded and followed her, looking briefly over my shoulder at the two men—so completely different and yet equally attractive. My gaze drifted from the wilder, freer Grant Thorne, whom I should have been instantly drawn to, to the taller, stiff, frequently grumpy Preston. I could tell he was practically aching to go meet the cat in the pen.
Yet he held himself back. Of course.
“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath.
“Excuse me?” Tracy’s comedically thick lashes waved at me.
“Nothing. Pretty sure my boss is about to get a cat.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” She frowned.
I pasted a smile on my face. “Nope. Serves him right.” I waved her off when she opened her mouth to ask for more details. “He’s just going to blame me for getting a cat, that’s all.”
“Did you say boss?”
I nodded. “Yep.”
She seemed relieved. “Oh, that was nice of you to come and keep him company.” She grabbed a clipboard from the slot with my flag’s number.
“Yeah, I’m a real gem.”
“He just always seems so lonely. He comes in a few times a month and then donates a ridiculous sum of money, but he never even asks to visit with the cats.”
Well, that tracked. Preston Shaw lived to be in a repressed state. What I could do if I got a hold of his…chakras.
She pointed proudly at the golden name plate. “We even built on the kitten hospital wing due to his generosity. Allie’s Wing is named after one of our tiny babies we lost. She was a very special case. Mr. Shaw was very invested in her care.”
My eyes pricked. Well, hell. Damn him for being so thoughtful. Now I was the one with the fluttering lashes so I didn’t freaking cry. I cleared my throat. “You needed me for something?”
“Oh, yes. We were going through the applications for the bonded kittens.”
My stomach dropped. “Oh, right. I saw that there was more than one flag on their little enclosure.”
“Yes.” She tapped her pen against the clipboard. “You put on here that you have a small apartment.”
“I do, yes.”
“We weren’t sure you’d have enough room for two very active kittens? Do you think you could care for them?”
I opened my mouth to quickly agree, but I followed her gaze to a young couple waiting in the wings.
“You were the first to put your flag in for the kittens. We’d be happy to—”
I held up my finger. “Are they looking to adopt them too?” I nodded to the couple.
Tracy sealed her lips and nodded.
I laced my fingers and set them on the counter. “Can I talk to them?”
She blinked at me. “You want to talk to them?”
I nodded.
“Um, I think that would be all right.”
Disappointment hit me the closer I got to the couple. The two little kittens had wormed their way inside me already, but I could tell they weren’t mine to have.
The young woman, barely old enough to drink, tucked her long, springy red hair around her ear. A lanky man with a spotty beard, wearing clothes that were two sizes too big, stood next to her, sweetly rubbing her back.
Yep, those cats so weren’t mine.
“Hi, I’m Ryan.”
The girl toyed with the fringe on her bag. “I’m Melody, and this is Lonny.”
“You guys are interested in the two kittens?”
The young woman nodded and tucked her hair again, an obvious nervous habit. “They’re so sweet. Lonny and I just moved in together last month, and we’ve been hoping to add to our family.” Her voice was soft and uncertain. “We saved up to donate here. Dr. Thorne was so sweet to me when I had to put my cat down this past winter.”
Well, shit.
I reached out and covered her trembling fingers. “They’re yours. I couldn’t possibly keep them from you.”
I pushed a little soothing energy into her to ease her mind. She was clearly a sweet soul. I didn’t read auras as easily as Luna did, but I knew good people when I saw them.
After digging into my bag, I pulled out a card. “If you’re one of those people who takes a zillion photos of your babies for social media, do you think you could send me the link?”
Her eyes widened. “How did you know?” She looked down at my card. “Oh, you’re a psychic?”
“More of a tarot cards and divination kinda gal. But I had a feeling.”
“I’m a photographer.” She leaned against Lonny. “We both are.”
“Then I expect all the photos of those two crazy kittens. Careful of the black one.”
“Oh, we’ve already named him Lucifer,” Lonny said with a smile.
“See, they were meant to be yours. That’s exactly the name I was thinking of when he took a swipe at me.”
We all laughed.
We said our goodbyes, and I stopped in to let Tracy know I’d deferred to the couple for the adoption. She looked relieved and pushed a pamphlet on me for the next event.
By the time I made it back to Preston, Grant had moved on to answer questions about another cat. PMS was sitting with the gray cat in his lap, and he was purring loud enough for me to hear it from ten feet away.
The cat, not PMS, but it was a close thing.
“Got yourself a cat, hey?”
Preston frowned, but he couldn’t stop stroking those long fingers down the cat’s head and neck. “I shouldn’t.”
I crouched outside the pen and hung my arm over the side to pet the cat. My fingers tangled with Preston’s, and the cat’s bright green eyes widened before his purring intensified.
Quickly, I pulled away my hand and stood. “Well, let’s get you two home.”
And me home, preferably into an ice cold shower.
Thirteen
I was going home with a cat.
And my assistant. I wasn’t sure which was more troubling.
In truth, my assistant wasn’t coming to my house. I was just driving her home. That should’ve been a safe endeavor.
At least in theory.
The problem was we had entirely too many hormones bouncing around between us. On top of that, I had never given April rides home or anywhere else. I also hadn’t invited her to a “working lunch” the first day of her employment. We had never kissed or fondled glowing hunks of rock or attended speed dating events. That Ryan and I weren’t being matched with each other hardly seemed to matter.
I couldn’t keep my hands off her. And it didn’t even matter if that overly smiley vet Thorne was lurking around. My hand seemed to be magnetically drawn to the small of her back.
Before the speed dating event, Luna had reminded me I had no business entertaining the possibility of anything with Ryan. Too bad I couldn’t seem to remember that when we were alone.
Or even when we weren’t.
She was like oxygen, and I’d been starving for air for far too long.
Now we were walking out to the parking lot, my hand between us carting the carrier holding my new charge, and I could feel her gaze lingering on me. She made an attempt at light conversation, commenting on different things about the event, but the weight of her stare was a physical thing.
Being alone with her in my car was not a smart plan.
I smiled as an idea took form. I would take proactive steps to protect her virtue.
Luna would probably approve.
Before Ryan could stop me, I rushed around the car to open her door.
One black brow winged up. “What’s with this new chivalrous side?”
I frowned. “What do you mean, new? When I have I ever been anything but a gentleman?”
“When you groped me every time you saw Dr. Thorne.”
“I hardly groped you.”
“You touched me in a way to indicate possession.”
I reached up to run a finger under my suddenly too tigh
t collar. “You are my temp. That indicates a kind of...employment possession.” Even I knew that was ridiculous.
She rolled her eyes and got into the car. Then she stuck out her fingers to touch the cat in the carrier. “You’re such a good boy. Just sitting there quietly while your daddy says nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense,” I muttered. Then I frowned. “Daddy? Me?”
“It does seem like a biological impossibility, but that sweet cat doesn’t know the difference.”
I stepped back as she pulled the door shut. Then I rounded the vehicle and opened my door before leaning in to try to fit the carrier on the console area between us.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I grunted as I tried to make the carrier fit between the seats. The cat let out a sound between a growl and a meow at the violent rocking. I couldn’t say I blamed him.
“If you’re this bad at fitting everything, you just made my decision a lot easier. Give me that.” She tugged the carrier away from me and climbed out of the passenger side.
What decision was she talking about?
She opened the back door and set the carrier on the floor in the back before returning to the front.
“Maybe you should drive,” I heard myself suggesting as I reluctantly slid behind the wheel and shut the door. “I’ll sit back there with the cat.”
“Do you have some fantasy about being driven around by a lowly peon? Sorry. I don’t drive beige grandpa cars.”
“Grandpa? I’ll have you know this car has plenty of horsepower.”
“Horsepower only gets you so far.” She clicked her belt into place. “You need to know how to use it.”
I put on my own seatbelt. “Trust me, I’ve never had any complaints.”
“Oh, I’m sure. I bet the society types you take out to socially approved events get a thrill from your...torque.”
“Not sure if you’ve forgotten, but I told you it’s been awhile for me.” I put the car in drive and reversed out of the space too fast. It was nearing sunset, and the sun was like a spotlight through the trees as I drove away from the shelter.
“Been awhile for a relationship is one thing. Surely you date. Maybe have the occasional long lunch—”
“Don’t.” My voice whipped out.