Page 23 of Ask for Moore
I wagged my brows. “I guess only time will tell.”
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured as Shelly returned with the receipt for me to sign.
After adding a generous tip, I scrawled my name at the bottom and tucked the customer copy and my card into my wallet. Then I stood and swept my arm out to indicate that Waverly should go first. “After you.”
“Such a gentleman,” she murmured.
I would give just about anything to prove to her exactly how much I wasn’t a gentleman…in bed. Or any flat surface, really. But fucking my opposing counsel into a coma wasn’t a smart idea. And Marty’s future was riding on the outcome of this case.
We shouldn’t give in, no matter how strong our attraction was.
I practically had to chant the reminder as I followed Waverly out of the bar and into the night air. I was losing the battle for my self-control when she abruptly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk a few blocks from the bar. Looking around, I asked, “What’s wrong?”
She tilted her head to the side. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Shh.” She pressed her index finger over her plump lips. “I think I heard it again.”
I thought her imagination was getting the better of her until a soft meow drifted toward us in the night air. “It sounds like a kitten.”
Wearing another one of her infamous pencil skirts and heels didn’t stop Waverly from crouching down while calling, “Here, kitty, kitty,” in a high-pitched voice. After about a minute, a gray kitten came running down the sidewalk toward us. I had no idea where it came from, but the tiny thing looked like it wasn’t getting enough to eat.
“Oh my gosh, aren’t you precious?”
The kitten had an adorable face, but it wasn’t very clean. “It looks like the little guy has been abandoned by his mama.”
“Oh, no.” She sniffled and reached out to pick up the kitten and cradle it against her chest, right between her perky tits. “You poor thing.”
Most cats living on the streets weren’t as friendly with strangers, but this one purred its happiness about being held by Waverly. I could hardly blame the kitten when I would have gladly had her snuggle up to me instead. Preferably naked. “Do you want to take it home with you?”
“Oh, I couldn't. I don't think pets are allowed at the bed and breakfast.”
The way she cradled the kitten closer to her chest as she answered gave away how much she wanted to bring the tiny bundle of fur home with her. “True, but you’re staying in the carriage house. So the kitten wouldn't be a bother for any of the other guests. I bet if you asked Julie, she would okay it.”
She pressed a little kiss against the kitten's head before meeting my gaze. “Do you really think so?”
“I do.” I pulled my cell phone out of my phone and added, “Would you like me to call and ask for you?”
She bit her bottom lip, and I had the same reaction as before—I wanted to free it from her teeth and claim her mouth in a deep kiss. My curiosity about how she tasted was fierce but reminding myself that she’d had several drinks at the bar helped me to harness the tattered shreds of my self-control.
“I'm not sure.” She stroked her fingers through the kitten’s fur, and I was jealous of an animal for the first time in my life. “I've never had a pet before. I don't know how to take care of her.”
Thinking about the various cats and dogs my brothers and I had growing up, I was sad that she hadn't been able to experience the unconditional love a pet could give you. “Are your mom or dad allergic to animals?”
“No,” she whispered with a shake of her head. “Or they might have been, but that's not why I didn't have a pet. They died when I was five, so I don't remember. But none of my foster families had any pets.” A wrinkle popped up in the middle of her brow. “Well, except for one place where there was a big, old dog, but they kept him chained up in the backyard. I didn't have the chance to play with him or anything like that.”
Her answer was a punch to the gut, and it gave a whole new meaning to her fear of small spaces. I had assumed there was an innocent explanation for the bad experience she had mentioned, but now I wondered if someone in one of those foster homes had mistreated her.
Either way, the least I could do for her was make sure she could keep the kitten if she wanted it. Even if I had to pay Julie extra to make it happen. “I have a cousin who’s a vet. I could give Finn a call to ask if he’d be able to check the little guy over and make sure he’s okay. And I’m sure he has all the supplies you’d need.”
“Of course, you have a cousin who can help.” She shook her head, her soft smile peeking out at me from behind the kitten’s fur. “How many of you are running around Mooreville? Simon said something about his mom doing a sign-up sheet for your drop-ins at Leaves & Pages to ensure the female customers have a good rotation of eye candy.”
I rolled my eyes, wishing the teenager had made up the story. “If everyone’s home, there are ten of us.”
She did a double take and gasped, “Ten?”
“Yup.” I nodded. “Not a single female in sight, except for the two that my cousins have married. Even the baby Skylar—she’s Simon’s mom—and Baxter had last year is a boy.”