by Toni Blake
“Great,” he muttered. He hadn’t known cats were so pushy.
But whatever. He supposed having it inside was better than having his screen door sliced to ribbons.
He was about to pull the door shut again when he caught a glimpse of Holly Blake through the arborvitae trees that separated their backyards. She sat a table on her patio eating a hamburger, and the baby sat perched next to her on the table in her carrier thing. Holly wore a sleeveless blouse and her hair was pulled back from her face. She had the most incredible green eyes. He couldn’t see them from that distance, of course, but he was remembering them from their encounter yesterday.
When he realized that his heart was bending in his chest again, he was almost tempted to quit avoiding her and go on over. He could take the cat and ask if it was hers. Or—hell, he didn’t need a pretense to approach a pretty woman—he could be honest and tell her he’d seen her outside and just wanted to say hi.
But then he heard a bubbly, gurgling noise erupt from the baby on the table. He silently watched and waited—in anticipation, and maybe even a sense of prediction—until the noise expanded into a full cry, sending a shot of tension racing up his spine.
“There, there, Em,” Holly said, abandoning her hamburger to rise from her seat and peer down on the baby.
But the baby kept crying and Derek just felt thankful he wasn’t any closer.
“Well, aren’t you the fussy one tonight?” Holly remarked.
But he didn’t hear any more, because that was when he pulled his head back inside and slid the door shut. Going over there had been a bad idea and he was glad he hadn’t acted on it.
He turned in his kitchen to see a certain gray kitten pawing at the garbage can—where a milk container he’d emptied this morning protruded from the top. He let out a sigh, but figured it wouldn’t kill him to be nice to the silly little thing. The sound of claws on hard plastic made him say, “All right already—calm down.”
Opening the refrigerator, he poured some milk into a small bowl and set it on the kitchen floor. The kitten practically attacked it, lapping at the milk furiously.
“But don’t get too comfortable,” he told the cat. “This isn’t a permanent thing.”
Though after watching the kitten lick the bowl dry, he felt unusually generous for reasons he didn’t understand, so much so that he even found a can of tuna in a cabinet, opened it up, and spooned it into the bowl.
“But that’s it, cat,” he warned. “After this, you’re outta here.”
When the kitten had finished the tuna, Derek picked it up and carried it to the back door. He was about to lower the cat to the wooden deck, mentally preparing to close the door quickly so he couldn’t scamper back in—when he caught sight of Holly and Emily again. Now Holly held the baby and sang to her.
“Hush little baby, don’t say a word, mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird. If that mockingbird don’t sing…”
Despite himself, he stood transfixed, watching and listening to her pretty voice. Her song had quieted the baby. And he couldn’t deny how lovely she looked just sitting there cradling the child in her arms, like some kind of wholesome vision almost too pristine for his eyes. His heart was starting the bending thing again and—
“Meow.”
“Hey,” Derek said, looking down at the kitten in his left hand—it had been an unusually loud meow. “Knock it off.” Was the cat trying to draw attention to him or something?
“Meowww,” the kitten bawled again.
“That’s it, cat. Free ride’s over.”
And with that, Derek plunked the kitten to the deck and slid the door firmly shut. Then he closed the vertical blinds so the cat wouldn’t be able to see him and he wouldn’t be able to see the cat.
Ridiculous. First being taken in by a pretty woman, and then a cat. You must be losing your edge, Cassidy.
***
Derek stepped out of the shower the next morning and threw on a pair of jeans and a clean red T-shirt. Grabbing his wallet and a clean bandanna from his dresser drawer, he shoved both into his pocket. Then he snatched a stale donut from a box he’d picked up a couple days earlier and quickly downed it, followed by a chug of milk from the jug he’d opened last night for the cat.
The memory made him feel smug. Haven’t even thought about that cat, or that woman, since I shut the door on both of them last night. “Must be getting your edge back,” he murmured.
Then he rushed out the front door.
And without warning, the small gray kitten leapt wildly onto his leg, digging into the denim with its claws to end up hanging suspended near Derek’s knee.
“Hey!”
He shook his head, getting past the short-lived alarm of the moment, then reached down to detach the cat. The damn thing had come out of nowhere and he absently wondered how long it had been waiting outside his front door to ambush him.
He stepped off the porch, holding the cat out in front of his face and looking into its eyes. “We’ve gotta quit meeting like this,” he said, arching one eyebrow in warning.
“Meow,” the kitten said with a helpless, desperate look on its tiny face.
Derek could only sigh. “Look, cat,” he said, “it’s nothing personal, but I’m not a cat guy.” Kind of like he wasn’t a baby guy. Some things just didn’t mix. Oil and water. Him and cats. “So you’re gonna have to shop for a new owner somewhere else. I’d suggest the lady next door. I have a feeling she’d like you.”
“Good morning!”
Lifting his gaze, Derek glanced across the lawn to see none other than Holly Blake wearing a long bathrobe, hints of some kind of nightgown peeking from it, and toting a baby on her hip. She stooped to pick up her newspaper as she smiled at him, her face framed by beautifully unbrushed hair. His first impression? That any woman who looked that good first thing in the morning would be nice to wake up next to.
“Good morning,” he replied, still holding the cat out in front of him.
“You have a cat,” she said, that dazzling smile sparkling on him, and he could have sworn her eyes had lit up when she’d spoken. He knew it. She was a cat person.
“Uh, yeah,” he heard himself reply uncertainly, “I…have a cat.” He took a few steps toward her yard, moving instinctively in that direction without really ever having decided to, the cat still held out in front of him.
She stepped closer, too. “What’s its name?”
Hmm. That was a damn good question. “I just call it…cat.”
As she tilted her pretty head and bit her berry-colored lip, Derek felt himself being sucked back under yet again. It wasn’t like not being able to breathe, but more like just not having full control over himself—his actions, decisions.
“A cat really needs a better name than that,” she told him.
“Well,” he said on impulse, “maybe you can help me think of one.”
But wait a minute. What was he doing here? Flirting with her? The woman was holding a baby, for God’s sake. Where was his head?
Inside her nightgown, apparently.
Although he couldn’t see much of it other than its fairly high neck and flowered print, he was totally attracted to her in it, which should have surprised him but didn’t. Her gorgeousness evidently overrode a grandma-style nightgown.
Feeling awkward, he trained his eyes back on the cat. “This is all your fault,” he muttered. Then he lifted his eyes to Holly again.
“Why don’t you come in,” she suggested, “and we can think of a name for your cat over some coffee.”
CHAPTER THREE
Thanks, but I can’t.
I’m late for work.
Gotta run.
Maybe another time.
Those were all the things he said in his mind. But from his mouth, he heard only one little word. “Sure.”
Shit—must be losing my edge again. That was fast.
And then his feet got in on the act, too, following Holly, cat in hand, toward her front door.
But this w
ould be a good wake-up call. After all, a few minutes with a baby would get him back in his right mind. And then he could get over this little infatuation and get on with his life. And maybe he could even palm the cat off on Holly in the process.
By the time he was inside her house, she was returning the baby to a playpen in the dining room, just beyond the living room.
“Have a seat,” she said, motioning toward the table there. “I’ll pour the coffee.” Then she disappeared through the kitchen doorway.
Derek awkwardly complied, he and his new cat sitting down near the baby.
“Goooooo,” the baby said, looking up at him.
He glanced down at the tiny person, then back to the cat, who now clung to his chest. He simply shook his head. How had he ended up like this?
“Emily’s saying hi to you,” Holly informed him from the kitchen.
He swallowed, then looked back down at the baby. She wore a light green one-piece summer thing. “Hi,” he said, feeling completely ridiculous. What did you say to a baby, after all? Since they couldn’t understand you, it seemed like a waste to talk at all.
When Holly came to the table carrying two cups of coffee, Derek withdrew his gaze from the baby and turned it on her mother, who—one more close-up glance assured him—definitely would be great to wake up next to. Her eyes were bright and clear, her porcelain skin flawless, and her unkempt hair gave the impression of something wild hiding within the prim schoolteacher.
“Thanks,” he said as she set a steaming mug before him.
“So,” she said, taking the chair adjacent to his, “your cat needs a name.”
“Well,” he said with a grin, “I thought just ‘cat’ was good enough, but now you’ve informed me that I’m misguided.”
“Can I hold him?” she asked. “And is it a ‘him’?”
“Sure,” he said in answer to the first question. “And…I’m not sure,” he replied a bit awkwardly to the second.
“New cat, I take it?” she asked in response, eyebrows raised.
And he nodded, feeling stupid for telling her the cat was his, yet not even knowing if it was a boy or a girl.
Holly stood and reached out for the cat, which still clung to his chest. Long tendrils of her strawberry blond hair hung near Derek’s face and her nearness made his heart begin to pound in his chest. She slid her soft hands over his where he held onto the kitten, the touch electrifying. Then he pulled his grip gently away, releasing the cat to her grasp.
She lowered back into her chair, cooing and hugging the ball of fur, but Derek’s mind still lingered on the touch of her hand and the soft, musky scent that had wafted over him when she’d leaned near.
“You can always go with a typical cat name,” she informed him, looking down into the cat’s eyes. “You know—Fluffy, Puffy, something like that.”
But the idea of owning something named Fluffy didn’t appeal. If he had to own a cat, it had to have a more solid name. “What are my other options?”
“Well,” she said, suddenly flipping the cat over on its back, “it would help to find out if it’s a boy or a girl.”
Something about watching the woman study his new cat’s genitals was a little unnerving, although he didn’t really know why. But he looked away until she was done.
“It’s a boy,” she announced as merrily as a delivery room doctor on TV.
Derek nodded.
“So you could really go with any boy name you like, too,” she added.
Any boy name he liked. Which fell under big the umbrella of things he’d never thought about in his life.
“Why don’t you just pick one for me?” he suggested, offering an indulgent grin.
So it surprised him when she replied, “No, you have to pick it yourself. After all, I wouldn’t have let anyone else name Emily.”
“This is a little different,” he reminded her, glancing down at the baby, who stuck out her lower lip. “This is a cat.”
“Still, he’s yours,” she explained simply, putting it all back on him. Which maybe would have felt a little more logical to him if he’d actually chosen to have a cat. “I have a book of baby names I can lend you if you like.”
Derek released an uncomfortable laugh, then took a sip of coffee. “That won’t be necessary,” he said. “I mean, I’m sure I can come up with something.”
“How long have you had this cat?” she asked then.
Uh-oh, he’d been nabbed. A hint of embarrassment bit at him. “Since…last night,” he admitted.
“Is he a stray?”
“I guess. He came to my door and wouldn’t leave me alone. Why do you ask?”
She smiled and flashed her pretty eyes at him. “Well, I just noticed that he’s kind of dirty.”
Glancing down then, he suddenly realized that she was right—some of the cat’s gray had come off on his shirt.
“I think that underneath,” she told him, “this kitten is white.”
He was stunned. And he immediately reached out his hands. “Here, let me take him back. I don’t want him to get you dirty.”
But she just laughed, assuring him, “It’s all right.”
“Really,” he insisted anyway. And he reached for the cat just as she rose toward him, and the back of his hand bumped her breast. He retreated immediately and so did she. “Sorry,” he whispered awkwardly.
Then she leaned forward again just as he reached out a second time, and his hand brushed her softness once more. Everything inside him trembled as the sensation struck him—it was like velvet under silk. And this time, he felt the reaction in his pants.
Her cheeks colored with discomfort as she held the cat out to him yet again, her hands extended far from her chest on this attempt. “Let’s try it like this,” she said.
He deftly snatched the dirty kitten away from her and they both sank back into their chairs, eyes cast downward. Geez, what a clod he was. Not normally, but with this woman, every move he’d made this morning had left him feeling clumsy. He only hoped he hadn’t embarrassed her too badly.
He finally glanced up at her from beneath a guarded brow. And when he thought he saw the hint of a smile flicker on her lips, he daringly offered up a small grin. And, to his great relief, they were soon laughing at their own awkwardness.
As their laughter faded, Derek followed an instinct, playfully reminding her, “I thought you invited me over to help name my cat.”
“I did,” she replied, looking a little defensive, yet maybe flirtatious, too.
“Well, you just offered me a name book and told me I was on my own,” he pointed out. “What kind of help is that?”
Her face colored pink again, but this time Derek liked it. He gazed boldly into her pretty green eyes, waiting for her answer.
“Okay,” she said softly. “Maybe I didn’t really invite you over to help you name your cat.”
Huh. He hadn’t seen that coming.
He tilted his head slightly and kept his eyes locked on hers. Was it just him, or was there suddenly some strange, electrical current passing between them? Something that felt tense, yet…sensual. “Then what did you invite me over for?”
She looked sheepish and let her gaze fall to the table. “Um, would you believe me if I told you that something broke and I need you to fix it?”
He answered without hesitation, voice low. “No.”
Now she lifted her eyes to his face, making his heart pump faster while he waited for her to tell him what he’d already figured out. “Okay—maybe I just wanted…to see you again.”
Her words left him stunned. He’d figured it out, yes, but he hadn’t really expected her to say it. Not so plainly. So he simply let his gaze consume her for a moment more, before finally telling her, “I’m glad.”
“You are?” she whispered.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “Because I wanted to see you again, too.”
She smiled in the same shy way as when they’d stood next to her car yesterday. Something about that smile had totally
turned him on then, and it was turning him on again now, too.
So he followed his next impulse, since it turned out impulses were actually working for him here better than he’d realized up to now. “Can I take you out to dinner? Tonight?”
But as she glanced down, releasing a heavy sigh, he rethought the impulse thing, his heart sinking. He wasn’t sure why, but the wind had clearly been let out of her sails. “Derek,” she began, “I would really love to, but I can’t.”
Okay. Regroup. “Tomorrow night then?”
Yet her expression didn’t change. “I’m afraid it’s not that easy.”
“Why not?” he asked. Hadn’t she just said she’d wanted to see him again? So what was the problem? He tried to think the whole thing through. “I mean, is it…too soon or something? Since…since your husband…” Shit, he didn’t know how to phrase it.
Thankfully, though, he didn’t have to keep trying, since she shook her head and said, “No, it’s not that. It’s Emily. After leaving her all day to go to work, I just don’t feel right about leaving her at night, too.”
“Oh,” he murmured, wishing he could hide his disappointment. Wishing even more that he hadn’t been so affected by her confession of wanting to see him again. It had felt like he’d just been given a giant gift, or been paid an incredible compliment; it had felt like the first taste of a requited crush in adolescence. Only he wasn’t an adolescent. And he didn’t enjoy suddenly feeling like one. Especially upon having that gift snatched away almost as soon as it had been given.
“I’m sure that’s hard for you to understand, not having any children,” Holly went on. “But Emily is my first priority and I have to think of her needs before my own.”
Her words left Derek at a loss for what to say. She had him on an emotional roller coaster—first she wanted to see him and then she didn’t have time. He supposed he had to admire her commitment to her baby, but why had she bothered expressing interest in him then?