He rolled off the bed, stood, and stubbed his toe on the dresser. A string of oaths fell from his lips.
Barefoot, shirtless, and without any pride, he limped through his living room in only his boxers. Not like anyone was outside to see him or his damaged dignity. Clearly, he was the only one awake in the neighborhood. Aside from the cat.
He grabbed a pastel pink laundry basket from the sofa and stepped outside the patio door. His bare feet hit the chilled metal steps. He shivered. Clouds covered the moon, so the only light came from a street lamp at the end of the building. Not even the stars were out tonight.
Step one, catch the cat.
Step two, hope the cat stayed in the basket until morning.
Step three, no idea. He’d figure that one out after some sleep.
The yowling continued from around Lucy’s side of the patio. William stepped with care across the AstroTurf lawn, hopping away from jagged gravel to avoid the legion of pink flamingos he’d inherited with the place.
Yes, he’d been flocked.
His breath came in thin, foggy bursts.
He was a predator hunting a…Puddy Tat.
QuotingLooney Tunesto himself while tracking a cat around a compound of sketchy apartments? Yeah, he needed sleep.
He slipped along the length of Lucy’s unit. The feline in question bellowed and scratched at the metal siding below Lucy’s window.
A branch snapped under the pad of William’s foot. The cat stopped howling and stared him down. If he was quick, William could grab the thing. Or maybe he should try calling the beast—it might come.
He cleared his throat quietly, not quite believing he was doing this. “Here kitty, kitty,” he sang off-key. “Kitty, kitty, kitty. Here kitty.”
A violent hiss erupted from the cat’s mouth. William nearly laughed when the cat bared its fangs. Fang. The decrepit marmalade, long-haired cat was missing a tooth. Clumps of fur were gone, too, and the creature appeared as though it had been on the receiving end of a late-night bar brawl. Something an awful lot like sympathy stirred inside him.
“Here kitty, kitty…” he sang again.
Gravel crunched behind him.
He spun around.
Lucy wielded a baseball bat at him like a maniac. When she raised the bat higher, her nightgown crept up to her thighs.
When he should’ve been concerned about the possibility of a concussion, his body instead responded to that small bit of bare skin like a fifteen-year-old boy at a strip club.
“What are you doing?” he whispered.
“Seeing who is outside my window.” Her hair was tousled and, damn, did he want to run his fingers through the mess of it. She lowered the bat. “What areyoudoing?”
Ogling my pretty neighbor and making an ass out of myself.Clearly, she had no idea what her presence did to him. “Figuring out how to quiet that cat.” That sounded much better than trying to figure out how to get her to agree to an impromptu roll on the AstroTurf.
“You scared me.” Her lip trembled.
He reached his hand out to comfort her, but she stepped away.
She nodded toward the ball of fur. “What’s the deal with him?”
The cat stopped bellowing.
“No idea,” he said. “He’s going to the Humane Society as soon as I catch him.”
The cat stalked closer and hissed again. It turned to Lucy and…smiled.
She set the bat down and kneeled in the fake grass, wriggling her fingers toward the grungy cat. “Aw, how sweet is he?”
