I snorted. “Right. He looks like exactly the kind of guy who considers women part of the décor—expensive, beautiful objects to complement his expensive, beautiful house.”
She gave me a sharp look. “I didn’t know you were the jealous type. Weren’t you dating Candi just a few weeks ago? You didn’t seem to mind that she was seeing other guys at the same time.”
“You’re not Candi.” My voice was serious. “And I’m not the same guy I was a few weeks ago. Everything’s changed, Jesse. I’ve changed. I would never accept you dating other guys while you’re with me.”
The thought alone made my stomach twist. These past few days without her had been agony, and we’d just been fighting. The idea of her actually being with someone else, choosing someone else, was unbearable.
She swallowed, and her eyes softened. “I’d never do that. And it goes both ways. When I came over here tonight, I expected to find you and Candi playing cowboy.”
“Cowboy?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Or cowgirl. I didn’t have all the details straight in my imagination.” She wrapped Robin in a towel. Her cheeks were slightly flushed. “I didn’t know who would be on top, but I definitely expected you two to be naked and… occupied.”
I scoffed. “I don’t know whether to be insulted or amused.”
“Come on. How many men can resist Candi, with her wasp waist and perfect legs?”
Amusement made my lips twitch. “A wasp waist sounds like a warning sign.”
“Okay, then hourglass shape.”
“Makes me think of a fast-ticking bomb.” I reached for the kitten. “Here, let me take over. I need to learn, right?”
As I took Robin and began carefully drying his small, squirming body, I went on. “So, you expected to find me and Candi naked. Let’s set aside your apparently low opinion of me for now. What brought you here tonight? Were you planning to join us?”
Before she could answer, Robin decided he could outsmart his dad, the weak link. One second he was in my hands, the next he twisted like a tiny, slippery eel. His back claws raked my wrist, and he shot out of the towel with a startled ‘mrrrp!’ that sounded offended to the very core of his feline soul.
“Shit!” I lunged, but my fingers closed on empty fabric.
He skidded across the small strip of counter by the sink, paws scrambling for traction, then launched himself in a blind panic toward the nearest escape route—which happened to be the toilet sitting right next to us.
“Close the—”
Too late. In cinematic slow motion, Jesse and I stared at the open toilet lid. There was the soft scratch of claws on porcelain… and a splash.
For a heartbeat, there was stunned silence.
Then Jesse slapped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking. “Oh my God! He Robin-ed right into the toilet.”
“Thank God I cleaned the bathroom this morning.”
The miserable, soggy kitten was clinging to the inner rim like a tiny, furious bat, eyes huge, fur plastered to his body in pathetic spikes.
I scooped him out, water dripping down my forearms. “Holy toilet bowl, Batman. You okay, buddy?”
Robin answered with an outraged squeak and tried to climb my chest, leaving wet paw prints on my T-shirt.
Jesse lost it, bending over with laughter. “You wanted to learn to be a cat dad,” she wheezed. “Lesson one: they are tiny, suicidal escape artists.”
“I’m adding ‘always close the toilet lid’ to the list.” Grimly, I returned to the sink, kitten squirming madly in my hands. “Okay, round two. This time we’re washing off eau de toilet.”
Jesse was still giggling as she turned the faucet back on.
Robin, apparently deciding there was nothing left in the universe that could surprise him anymore, resigned himself to a second rinse. He only yowled a little as Jesse worked quickly and efficiently, washing away his brief toilet baptism.
“Okay, buddy.” I held him more firmly this time as she shampooed his back. “No more parkour into open plumbing. That’s a house rule.”
Jesse snorted.
