Six-foot-something. Broad shoulders. Messy, dirty-blond hair. Horn-rimmed glasses and a crumpled suit.
Heck.
He’s smiling down at his phone, thumbs moving over the screen.
My pocket vibrates.
“Miles?”
His gaze jerks up, connecting with mine.
“Summer.” He takes a step closer, then pauses, his brows pulling together. “What’re you doing here?”
Tara, none the wiser, chimes in, “She’s our cat-sitter, silly.” She looks between us. “Do you two know each other?”
“You could say that,” I get out just as Miles mutters, “Fuck.”
EIGHT
Holy shit.
My grip tightens on the Gatorade I just grabbed from the fridge.
I blink.
Yep, she’s still there. Just as beautiful as she was last night. But now her lips are set, and there’s a faint line between her brows.
I spent the drive home from the city thinking about her. About asking her on a proper date. Having her sitting across from me in a restaurant I’d pick to impress her. A chance to do it right. Slower and more intentional.
But now she’s in my kitchen. And she’s my… cat-sitter?
I pictured her here, too, leaning against my island like she is now. I just didn’t picture the part where she looks like she’s calculating the fastest exit route.
That too-big, too-small feeling in my chest? Yeah, it’s back, but it’s just too small. Claustrophobic, really. My heart’s pounding so hard, I feel it in my throat.
I swallow.
Did Tara tell me the person’s name? I’m sure she did, but I probably wasn’t listening; my only focus as of late has beenturning around our losing streak. I wish I’d paid closer attention. I don’t like being caught off guard.
I should say something. Anything. But my mouth won’t cooperate.
“I feel like I’m missing something here…” Tara says, cutting through the ear-ringing silence.
“Um—” Summer starts.
“Don’t you and Jim have plans today?” I turn toward Tara. “It’s Saturday. Get out of here,” I add, keeping my tone easy.
She looks between us, eyes narrowing. “You’re sure?”
I nod, and she looks to Summer. “Is that okay with you? I don’t want to pawn you off before you’re settled.”
“Of course, ma’am?—”
“None of that ma’am business,” Tara cuts in. “Makes me feel old. First names are okay around here.”
“Enjoy your day off,” Summer says with forced cheer, then smiles. “I’ll see you next week?”
“Yeah, I’m over here at least once a day, Monday through Friday. I only live a couple of blocks away, so ask if you need anything. But this guy will take care of you.”
