The look she shot me—soft, disbelieving, already on the verge of a smile—was worth every mile of the drive.
The tabby wasted no time climbing straight into Dani’s lap once she crouched, purring like a motor. She blinked down at it, stunned, then looked up at me.
“He just . . . picked me.”
“Of course he did,” I said, leaning against the doorframe with a grin. “They know who needs them most.”
She shot me a look, half-exasperated, half-amused. “Have you been living some secret double life? Pro-baseball coach by day, cat whisperer by night?”
“It’s not a secret,” I said, crouching beside her. A calico padded over and butted its head against my hand, and without thinking, I scratched under its chin until it melted into a puddle of fur. “I just don’t go out of my way to talk about it.”
Dani arched a brow. “But like, theyknowyou here.”
I smirked. “I try to come in a few times a month, sometimes with Carolina, sometimes by myself. I’ve always had a thing for cats.”
And one specific kitten, too.The irony wasn’t lost on me.
Her face softened, fingers stroking absently through the ginger’s fur. “Now that I think about it,” she mused. “I can definitely see you having a cat. Like an old, one-eyed bitch named Bernice or something.”
“You’re not far off,” I told her, stroking the calico as it rolled onto its back, batting at my hand. “My mom got me a cat right before she and my dad split. Said I needed something to keep me company when it was just the two of us, something to remind me I wasn’t alone.”
“What was her name?”
“Agnes,” I said, grinning at the memory. “A sassy, old tortoiseshell with one hell of an attitude. She used to sleep on my head when I was a kid, and if I left my baseball glove lying around, she’d curl up inside like it was hers.”
Dani laughed, the sound finally free of the sharp edge it had carried all day. “That explains so much. You’re basically still that kid with his glove and his cat.”
“I guess some things stick. Cats, baseball, bad hair days.”
She gave me a watery smile, scratching behind the tabby’s ears. “And now me.”
That tugged hard at my chest, but I just tipped my head, grinning. “Yeah, kitten. Now you.”
Another cat hopped up onto the back of her shoulders, and she squealed while I leaned back and chuckled. “Relax,” I said, amused. “If he wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”
“That’s comforting,” she deadpanned, but her laugh gave her away as she tried to coax the cat down.
I reached over, lifting the little daredevil off her and settling it against my chest. It curled there instantly, purring like a chainsaw.
Dani stared, wide-eyed.
“Seriously,” she whispered. “You’re a cat magnet. You didn’t just bring me here to cuddle cats. You did it so I could watch you make out with them.”
“Jealous?” I teased, kissing the top of the kitten’s head. Cats had always smelled good to me—like clean laundry left drying on the line, simple and grounding in a way that made my chest ease.
She narrowed her eyes, lips twitching. “Of a furball that licks its own butt? Absolutely.”
I chuckled, the sound rumbling in my chest. “Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite kitten.”
A few hours later, after we’d gotten our fill of cat cuddles and even managed to knock a couple of things off our baby to-do list, I drove her back to her place.
She was quieter now, but in that content, post-laughter way, her head tipped against the passenger window, a faint smile curving her mouth. By the time I pulled into her driveway, the storm from earlier had dulled to nothing more than a drizzle in her eyes.
“You know,” Dani said softly when I walked her to her door, a ginger hair or two still clinging to her sweatshirt. “That really didmake me feel better. I know this probably wasn’t onyourlist of things to do today.”
“That’s okay.” I reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my thumb linger against her cheek. “A few tears and hairballs sure beat the hell out of a trade meeting.”
“Thank you.”
