His spine went ramrod straight, and he shot me a glower. “Only because she wasn’t answering the door, and I knew she was in there. I needed help.”
“And you didn’t think to take the kitten to, I don’t know, a vet?”
He huffed out an impatient breath, as if this entire conversation was exhausting him. That made two of us. “This is Starlight Cove. We have one vet, and the clinic has been closed for hours.”
When I didn’t respond, he stared at me for a beat, his jaw clenching. Then he gave a sharp nod before tucking the sleeping ball of fur back in his jacket. “Whatever. I’ll figure it out.”
Before he could stalk off, glower and all, I reached out and brushed my fingers along his arm. And pointedly ignored the zing of awareness that shot through my body at the brief contact.
There was going to be absolutelynoneof that.
“Don’t stomp off in a huff. I get enough of that from my teenager. Just give me a second.” I stepped around him, tossed my purse and Laurel’s goodies inside, and told her, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to help the creeper with his cat.”
“It’s notmycat,” Atlas grumbled.
I pointedly glanced at the animal tucked in his jacket. “The Kitten Distribution System says otherwise.”
“Stay sexy and don’t get murdered,” Laurel said, not even glancing up from her phone.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Atlas said. “Jesus, we’ve been over this. I’mnota murderer.”
“Relax. It’s not specific to you. It’s from a podcast.” I tugged my hood back up in deference to the rain and gestured in front of me to the yard cloaked in darkness. “Lead the way.”
He hesitated for half a second, his gaze darting over my face as if he were searching for something. Finally, he gave a short nod and headed in the direction of his house.
Not gonna lie, when I’d dreamed about some pussy-tending by the big guy last night, this wasn’t what I had in mind. Though it was undoubtedly much safer. The only waymypussy was being taken care of around here was going to be by my own hand.
Once we made it to his back door, he pressed his thumb to the top of the keypad and opened the door when it flashed green. He gestured for me to enter in front of him, that stony expression ever-present on his face.
I tentatively stepped inside, my gaze cataloging everything in sight. A tidy mudroom with more giant men’s sneakers than a Foot Locker led directly to a kitchen straight off my dream board. It was huge but somehow cozy, with soft gray cabinetry and granite countertops. An eat-in island anchored the space, but that wasn’t what captivated me.
No, that was all thanks to the floor-to-ceiling wall of windows along the back that I somehow just knew would face the ocean. Though it was too dark to see anything right now, I had no doubt it was a multimillion-dollar view. And with Atlas’s pro footballer money, that turn of phrase was probably literal.
A huge, plush sectional sat in front of the windows, a might-as-well-be-a-movie-theater-sized TV mounted above the stone fireplace in the corner. The whole space was warm and inviting…the exact opposite of the man who lived here.
I tore my gaze away and found Atlas staring at me, his brow furrowed, mouth set in a hard line. Like he was suffering through every second he had to spend in my presence. As if I needed any more proof after the stalker comment that he clearly and adamantly regretted the night we’d spent together.
And wasn’t that a shocker? Another asshole disguised as a normal man. I had a list of those a mile long.
“What?” I asked, a bit sharper than necessary.
He shook his head, darting his gaze away. “Nothing. What do we do now?”
Right. Back to the task at hand so I could get the hell out of here.
“I know there’s no DoorDash—Laurel’s loving that, by the way. But is thereanysort of delivery system in town? A back-alley exchange sort of thing to get you by for the night?”
He scratched his jaw, the rough scrape of his nails against his beard sending a frisson of awareness skating down my spine. “Kind of. There’s a town bulletin I could post on for some supplies.”
“Then do that. Because you can’t give this kitten whatever random shit you happen to have in the house, unless you want cat diarrhea everywhere.”
He made a face, lifted the kitten out of his jacket, and looked it over, as if eyeing how much damage such a tiny thing could do. Then he glanced at me with a raised brow.
I held up my hands and shook my head. “Whatever, it’s your funeral. And I amnothelping you clean up.”
“Fine.” He gripped the animal in one hand and pulled out his phone with the other, his thumb flying over the screen fasterthan I would have expected. After a few moments, he tucked the device back into his pocket and pinned me with another stare. “Done. Now what?”
This man was so utterly clueless, it might have been endearing if I hadn’t forced myself to hate him on principle.
