Yet here I am anyway.
“I understand that, but how areyoualways finding them?”
“Because they come to me.” She tips her head to the side. “I’m not understanding what you’re not understanding here.”
“I—” I shake my head. “You know what? Never mind. I still can’t take this cat.”
I hold the kitten out, and once again Peaches takes a step away.
“I can’t take them back. That’s not how it works.”
“Not how it works? I—”
“He’s weaned. He’s ready for the big boy food. All he needs is care and love. Good luck.”
“Good luck? Peaches! Peaches!”
But my protests are fruitless. She spins on her barely there flip-flops and runs. Literallyrunsaway.
And she’s quick too. She’s already across the gas station parking lot before I even fully realize what’s happening—she’s seriously leaving this kitten with me.
I stare after her, trying to figure out what the hell just happened and what exactly I’m going to do with this cat. I don’t have the time or patience for a kitten, especially not now.
I look down at the little fella tucked into the crook of my arm, and he peers up at me with green eyes that are far too intense for such a young age.
“I guess you’re coming home with me.”Meow.“But don’t get used to it,” I warn him. “You’re not staying.”
Meow.
I huff, then toss the gas can back into the truck bed. With the cat curled up on the passenger seat, I steer toward the cidery, praying I don’t get stopped along the way and get saddled withanothercat.
To my surprise, Odette is already at the property when I pull up.
She’s leaning against her old BMW, her hand curled around a to-go cup of coffee, a fritter clutched in the other. I already know she doesn’t have one for me. She hasn’t brought me one since the morning we fought.
It makes me regret what I said to her even more. Not because I want a delicious breakfast treat, too, but because it means she’s being standoffish toward me.
The worst part is that I don’t entirely blame her. I would be, too, after the way I embarrassed her like that.
I hop out of the truck, then reach inside and scoop up the little ball of black and white. He fell asleep about five minutes into the drive, and not that I’d ever admit it out loud, but it was very hard to keep my eyes on the road and not on him. He just looked so sweet curled up.
“What the ...” Odette pushes off her car when she sees the kitten. “Peaches got you, too, didn’t she?”
“I certainly didn’t get him of my own accord,” I grouse, trying not to be too charmed when the little thing nuzzles against me. “He’s going back tomorrow, so don’t get attached to him.”
“Of course he is.” But she grins. She grins, and I know exactly what kind of grin it is.
She doesn’t believe me.
“He is,” I insist.
“Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Noah.” That fucking smile widens. “Can I hold him?”
“Be my guest. I have work to do.”
She crams the rest of her fritter in her mouth, then takes the kitten with her free hand, snuggling him against her chest. “Hi, little baby,” she coos at him. “Hi there. It’s so nice to meet you.”
I look away, focusing on getting the supplies out of the truck and not at all on how fucking adorable she looks holding him.
