by Cari Quinn
Callie groaned. “God save me from all the testosterone that has surfaced since I’ve been with child. I thought these guys were bad before. Now? God. Unbearable.” She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head. “Oh, Piper.”
“What?” I looked around the room. “You don’t like it?”
“Don’t like it? I match.” She looked down at her empire waist dress that had an airbrushed Halloween scene across her belly. The bright, fun oranges and purples of the material matched my decorations almost perfectly.
Her huge blue eyes filled. “You did all this for me?”
“Of course I did.” I winced when one of my newest acquisitions leaped from the huge black pipe that ran around the ceiling of my place and dive-bombed one of the bats I’d hung.
“What the hell?” Wyatt ducked.
The fact that he had to duck made a little piece of me flutter that hadn’t fluttered in a damn long time.
Now is not the time.
I spun around and sure enough the enclosure was open. “Oh, crap.”
“Levi!”
“Got it!” Came his voice from the enclosure. The door shut behind the first group of men and women of Hammered and their significant others.
Thankfully, only two of the cats had made it into the main cafe.
“Dammit, BJ.” The orange tabby was a menace. Cute, but a menace.
He yowled as he hung from the crepe bat. Luckily, I’d used heavy duty fishing line just in case this happened. If it could hold a fifty-pound marlin, it should be able to hold a fat tabby. That is, if he didn’t shred the decoration with his flailing.
I ran for the large step stool I used for just this purpose, but before I could wheel it out, Callie elbowed Wyatt. “Don’t just stand there.”
“I’m not getting bitten.”
“Wimp.”
He rolled his eyes as he pushed his sleeve up farther. “If I get rabies, I’m suing you.”
“None of my cats have rabies.”
“Tetanus?”
“Shut up and rescue BJ.”
“Do I get a BJ for rescuing BJ?”
Callie’s face flushed. “You are a jerk. And no, you do not. Unless you can bamboozle one from some willing victim.”
As if on cue, a pair of women came through the door holding baby bags. Wyatt grinned. “Hello ladies.”
“Contain yourself. Focus, man.” Callie moved out of the way. “Don’t drop him.”
“Watch the door, please!” I yelled. Not that I needed to. For once, Maya wasn’t trying to escape. She was too busy trying to become one with Wyatt’s gray trousers.
“If I trip on this other cat, I’m going to sue the proprietress.” Wyatt reached up—only a little bit of a reach, mind you—and plucked BJ off the bat. Of course BJ freaked out and wound himself around Wyatt’s arm with full claws.
“You little fuck,” he growled.
But bless him, he didn’t drop the cat. Well, at least not until he got it to about chest height and the tabby leaped out of his arms with a petrified yowl.
“Serves you right for going up there.” I quickly scooped him up and brought him to the door to the back of the cafe. “In you go.”
He leaped down with a swish of his tail and headed to the carpeted wall with ramps and cat cubbies.
“Everyone okay in here?”
Keys was on the floor with three kittens climbing all over her. “Oh, we’re good.”
Kennedy laughed. “Want me to guard the door until everyone arrives?”
I let out a relieved laugh. “That would be great, thanks. I should have told one of my employees to come in today, but I’ve been trying to keep this party low key.”
“And we appreciate that more than you know.” Kennedy patted my arm. “A slice of normalcy for these guys is just what the doctor ordered.”
I slipped back into the cafe to see Callie trying to talk to Maya, but as usual the Siamese was being a snot.
“I thought maybe she was high on catnip or something since she was being so friendly with Wyatt here.” Callie snatched back her hand when Maya swiped at her. “But Maya’s being her ornery self.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what’s up with her.” I frowned down at the cat as she reached up a paw toward Wyatt’s slacks.
“Do it and you’ll be declawed, cat.” Wyatt’s voice had enough bass that even Maya listened. Though she wasn’t really deterred. She just chose to lean against his leg and wash her paw.
“Good thing I love you, Cal. I shed blood, for God’s sake.” Wyatt held out his arm and sure enough there were welts down the underside of his forearm. “Do I need peroxide or something?” He took a step to the left and Maya followed.
“Boo hoo. You’ve gotten deeper scratches from one of your skanks. Not to mention hello, race car driver.”
“Former,” he muttered.
“I need cake. I was told there would be cake.” Callie brushed a hand down her dress and patted her belly. “Little one really wants cake.”
I laughed. “Go right into the back and you’ve got tons of food.”
“Good. Then with food in my massive belly, I can then think about all the baby stuff. I even brought my own tissues and wore waterproof mascara. It’s a banner day.”
Owen rested his hand along her lower back and urged Callie forward. “Let’s get you set up in the princess chair.”
“There’s a princess chair?” She blinked up at her husband. “Did you do that?”
“I may have had a hand in it. You might even be able to take it home.”
“I can?” Callie tucked her arm through Owen’s. “Lead me to it.”
Wyatt wandered over to the windows in the cafe half of my place. He filled a mug with coffee and made a humming moan before refilling it and taking it to one of the chairs by the windows along the side. Those didn’t face the main part of Santa Monica Boulevard. He stared out at the traffic, his sunglasses still in place.
Why I was obsessed with his damn sunglasses, I did not know.
And I really didn’t want to think about the moan he made while he drank my coffee. Yeah, not going to think about that at all.
I rushed to the door to welcome the next flood of people. This time, the crowd partially consisted of women I didn’t know. Surprising since I’d known Callie for a few years now.
Wearing a bright smile, I pointed. “Everyone’s right through that glass door.”
“Are there really cats here?” A woman with huge dark eyes kept peeking around me and looking under furniture.
“Yep.” I laughed and bent to meet her gaze. “But not out here. This is just the cafe part.”
“Oh.” She nibbled on her scarlet, bee-stung lower lip. Her lips were as sensually full as the rest of her. She had serious curves, and obviously a little bit of daring to go with them.
I wished I had the guts to wear makeup colors like that. Actually, it was more like I forgot to even think about makeup, but that was neither here nor there.
The tall blond at her side hustled the shorter, stacked woman forward. “C’mon, Lo.”
Behind them, a dark-haired woman looked around. She had knee-high boots over skin tight jeans and an off the shoulder shirt. “This place is cool.” Her warm eyes lit with pleasure. “You must be Piper.”
“Guilty.” I smiled.
“I’m Jules, this is Lauren, and the Amazon is Molly. We’re friends through Tristan.”
“Oh. Okay.” She said it like I should know them, but I couldn’t keep all the people in Callie’s life straight.
Jules tucked a glossy lock of hair behind her ear. “Poor thing. You are probably being inundated with crazy rockstars and other artist types today.” Jules rubbed my arm. “Tris is Hunter’s best friend.”
Names clicked together. “Oh, the chef.”
“Yes. That’s the one. He’s mine. Well, one of mine.” Jules’s smile was dazzling.
“One?” I blinked.
Lauren’s eyebrow lifted. “She likes to brag.”
Another man sauntered into the café with a sullen dark-haired man at his side. “Hi.”
“Hunter!” Jules leaped on the man as he came through the door.
“Hey, J.” He caught her mid pounce and lifted her off her feet. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
Jules turned her cheek for a kiss before dropping back to the floor. Were all the men in Hammered tall? It didn’t seem statistically possible.
“I think the entire world got an invitation to this one. First band baby.”
Jules was stupidly pretty. Stunning, actually. I suddenly felt very frumpy in my jeans and crazy cat lady shirt. I’d meant to go change, but then I’d run out of time. Shocker.
I wandered away to help with bags and passed them off to Kennedy who had emerged when she spotted her husband.
“Now they’re all going to get the fever.” Hunter rubbed the back of his neck.
“You and Kenny thinking about it?” Jules asked.
Hunter slung his arm around Kennedy. “Hi, babe. We keep collecting dogs. I think we’re good.”
“Uh huh.”
Kennedy looked a little sick to her stomach. “Furbabies are more than enough for me right now, thanks.”
I swallowed. Forget babies. There were a lot of hot men in my shop. It was very disconcerting.
“Everything okay?” Kennedy asked her husband out of the side of her mouth.
“Oh, yeah. Zach’s just pouting because he has to come to a baby shower.”
“Bats didn’t have to come.”
“He was supposed to come. He’s just an asshole.” Hunter grunted.
“Truth.” Zach pushed his hair out of his face. “Nice place though.”
I gave him a tight smile. “Thanks.” I couldn’t tamp down the pride, even if it was more of a polite compliment. Then again, I was used to that. Some people didn’t know quite what to make of The Pussy Palace. “Well, you may not want to deal with baby games, but at least there’s some cats to play with. We got a new litter of kittens in last week.”
“Kittens?” Zach’s face lit up.
Hunter shook his head. “I’m more of a dog guy, but they’re cute enough.”
“You’ll be won over when you see Rosie and Hank.”
Hunter’s eyebrows shot up.
I laughed. It was often the reaction I got from newcomers. I threw a glance over my shoulder and sure enough Rosie and Hank were showing off their aerial dynamics. “They’re Abyssinian cats. And they really like to show off.”
“That’s cool.” Hunter gave me a distracted smile and crossed the room.
“Don’t mind Hunter.” Kennedy took another two bags. “He’s got a one-track mind when it comes to animals.”
I huffed. I didn’t want these women to worry about the party stuff. That was why everyone was coming here so I could take care of them. “It’s okay, I can bring these back.”
Kennedy waved me off. “Got it. Come on, girls. I know you’re dying to get to the kittens.”
Lauren laughed. “Kinda. I’ve never been to such a cool place.”
“I’m glad you like it. The kittens will enjoy meeting you too. I like to get them as socialized as possible so they make good pets.”
Kennedy smiled wide. “I’m so glad you’re working with Love ‘n Paws. You’ve done wonders for our adoption numbers.”
Half my sales and name recognition came from word of mouth thanks to a few famous friends. The other half was due to the cat cam starring my two favorite idiots. “I’m just glad to help.”
“Okay, ladies,” said the tall blond with the assessing eyes. “Let’s move it along.”
As soon as they ambled through on their way to either the room where the shower was being held or the cat enclosure, more people entered. I bustled around the next group coming in, my gaze wandering toward the table tucked against the side window.
I’d expected Wyatt to head off with the rest of the men, but he seemed content with his coffee as people wandered in and out of the cafe. Even the three or four women who were dressed more suitably for a club than a daytime baby shower didn’t draw his attention.
Then again, I wasn’t exactly a fashionista.
I felt even frumpier as I got sweaty from running between the cafe and the cat enclosure. Callie was in her element with everyone around her. Her sister, Ava, made an appearance right before the gifts were to be opened.
And still he filled the cafe area. I nibbled my lower lip.
“You seem to have something going on in that pretty little head of yours. Got a question for me, darlin’?”
“I’m not your darlin’.” I wanted to bite my tongue off. It was such a knee-jerk reaction. Working in the food industry, I had been called far worse, far more often. But something inside me rebelled at the thought of being called a pet name by this man. Especially the kind of name men gave when they couldn’t be bothered to learn a woman’s real one.
And I’d definitely heard him use the same endearment three separate times with the various women who kept making excuses to come into the cafe for the coffee station—followed directly by a stop at his table.
Cripes, what was I doing? I had no room to think about any of that. I had a baby shower to worry about.
Worrying about men wasn’t even on my radar.
Especially this man. He had player written all over him, and I didn’t have a clue how those sorts of games worked. Didn’t want to know.
“No, I don’t suppose you are.” He sprawled out in his chair, his long legs well past the legs of the square table. His large fingers made the oversized ceramic mug look like a damn thimble.
Not to mention the green polka dots and whiskers should have looked ridiculous as he tipped up the cup to his mouth for a drink. Not a sip, no. It was a full-on gulp of my coffee. The kind that made his stupid throat work to swallow. All those tendons and delicious lines that were scraped clean of hair shifted and rippled.
Many men had been embracing the beardy look, some going for more caveman than others. Not Hudson Wyatt. No, his neck and jaw were closely shorn to show off angles and freckles no woman could resist.
The fact that I was one of the hoard didn’t make him any less attractive or magnetic.
Annoyed, I wiped the table off in front of him. “Can I get you anything else, Mr. Wyatt?”
He leaned back even farther as he hooked an arm around the back of his chair. In a moment, he’d be reclined like a big jungle cat. “If I have one more of those chocolate and orange empanadas, I’ll need to get my suits tailored again.” He took another lazy swallow, the mug’s cat ears poking up from behind his elegant finger.
Unfortunately, the move was just plain hot. When I’d picked out each and every one of the tongue-in-cheek cat mugs, I’d never expected one to look so good against a pair of lips like his.
And dammit, his sunglasses were still on.
I licked my lips. Because they were dry, and not because he was so fascinating.
Lies.
Lies, Piper Lee.
“More coffee?”
He held out his mug. “Please.”
I took it, being careful not to touch his skin. Not sure I could handle that right now.
I turned to the coffee station to refill his cup. Suddenly, my heart skipped around in my chest like Rosie during her 3AM crazies. The heat of his body invading my space was first, then the spicy scent of ginger and rich leather teased my senses as acutely as a touch.
“Tell me, kitten.” His voice was a rumbling bass. “What makes one open a cat cafe?”
Well, fuck.
I elbowed him back a step and he grinned down at me, rescuing the mug from my instinctive outburst.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“Didn’t mean to crowd you.”
I peered up at him. “Yes, you did.”
His easy grin slid into a maddening smile. “Yes, I did,” he agreed.
“Piper?” I took another step back at Owen’s voice.
I resolutely put the annoying
surge of hormones in a box. Had he called me kitten? Yes, he had. And no, he most definitely couldn’t call me that.
It was demeaning. Probably. Wasn’t it?
Ah hell.
I slid away from the hulking jerk who had no business making my damn girl parts get all flustered.
Owen looked between us with a quick arch of a brow. “I’m sorry, love. I know you’re running around like crazy, but my lovely and very particular wife is hoping for a cup of hot chocolate. Do you think we could get some?”
“Of course.”
“Perfect, thanks.”
I crossed the room, hurrying away from the very large, very distracting man who had definitely not been on my agenda for the day.
Any day.
2
Wyatt
Owen crossed his arms and tipped up his gaze at me.
“What?”
“You know very well what.”
“Don’t get all snooty at me, Lucky Charms.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“Such language out of the daddy of the day.”
Owen’s dancing blue eyes went wintery. His Irish temper and my Scottish heat slammed together like a sea wall and storm surge sometimes, but it had been a damn long time.
And it wasn’t fair to get him riled on a day all about him and Callie.
Ah, fuck. I opened my mouth to apologize. I didn’t like to fight with my friends. When I was in a mood, I just stayed away from them, plain and simple. Most of them were so involved with their significant others that it was easy enough to avoid them.
Obviously, I couldn’t skip out on this shindig. Not when it came to Callie anyway. She was the only one who could make me come into a room of felines.
I did a quick scan for the little whitish-gray cat that kept trying to climb up my leg. I wasn’t a damn scratching post.
“What the hell is your problem?” Owen nodded at me and my little table I’d commandeered. “You aren’t normally the antisocial one. But today you are?” His gaze tracked over to the barista-slash-proprietress. “Or is it the fair Piper who has snagged your attention?”
“What? No.” My eyebrows came down as I rescued my mug from the edge of the coffee station. The rude little minx hadn’t given it back to me.