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“You don’t care?”
“Baby, just give the cat a name, yeah?”
I can’t help but laugh. Yes, he’s definitely overwhelmed. I wonder what the tipping point was—the cat, the cat tree, or clearing a space in his cool as hell laundry/mudroom for the litter box.
“I’m thinking Claus.”
“Why?” he growls. “You think he’s going to claw up all my furniture?”
“No! Silly.” I roll my eyes as he narrows his. “I mean Claus. Like Santa Claus. You know, because he’s our Christmas present and all.”
He eyes me seriously, then mutters darkly, “Thought you were my present.”
My breath hitches and my heart skips a beat. Miraculously, I manage a casual reply as I tease, “I’m the gift that keeps on giving.”
He takes another long pull, heat filling his dark gaze as he rakes his eyes over me. “I’m looking forward to the next part of this gift that keeps on giving, Sunshine.”
Oh my. I think we’re talking about more than me and a cat making ourselves at home in his house.
I think we’ve moved into more sensual territory. Territory I’ve currently not explored—but I so want to explore with him.
I clear my throat andjustrefrain from fanning my face. “Well,” I clap my hands together. “Claus it is. I love it.”
He chuckles darkly, like he knows exactly where he’s put my mind,the dirty man.
“If you’re happy, I’m happy, baby.”
Damn, I love when he calls me baby.“Then I’m happy!” I tell him chirpily. “Now, since Claus put a kink in my plans for picking up pizza in town, and Trevor and his wife will be here for dinner in two hours, I have no idea what we’re going to serve them.” I ask him hopefully, “Any ideas?”
“I'll give Trevor a call. Tell him to grab a couple of pizzas on the way out.”
He takes another pull on his beer as I shift hesitantly in place. Then, quietly, I tell him, “I know this is a lot, Nick.”
“What?” I’m not sure if I’m seeing things, but I think maybe I see his shoulders tense.
“Me showing up here when you didn’t invite me.” I shrug, feeling suddenly embarrassed and shy. “Now me bringing a cat into your home. I know it’s a lot, so if you don’t want to keep him when this is over—I’ll find a way to bring him home with me.”
His dark eyes flash and he sets his bottle to the counter, the clang of glass connecting with granite is loud in the silent space between us. “When this is over?”
I nod, but my stomach feels heavy, and my throat is suddenly dry. “Yes, Nick.”
“I never said I didn’t want him.”
“Oh—okay.”
“Also told you I want you.”
“It’s been four days,” I protest reasonably.
The dark in his eyes turns to pitch black, and a muscle in his cheek jumps. There’s something he wants to say to me, something he wants to tell me, but he’s not saying it.
My heart is racing fast—too fast—and I feel hot all over as I try to contain the rush of my breaths, because my mind is still going back to what happened in the vet clinic. I still don't know what to make of that. The possessive way he kissed me, the possessive words he said. Even now, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to respond. Even though I know the dynamics between us have changed, he laid his cards on the table—and even though I don't know what those cards mean—they mean something to him. That's unquestionable.
I want to question him. I don't know how, though.
When he doesn’t reply, but also doesn’t stop looking at me like he’s trying to burn his thoughts into my mind, I mutter, “I'll make a salad to go with the pizza. If you want to call Trevor?”
“Sure.”
