Page 12 of Trust Me

Holy shit, I’m really doing this.

Before I can internally freak out, three cats jump onto the island.

“Perfect timing, girls,” Elio coos at them. He picks up the white one with black spots. “This is Blossom,” he says before pulling the ginger and gray ones into his arms. “And this is Buttercup. The gray one is Bubbles.”

I’m not sure why I find it endearing to see a man as large and masculine as he is with three fluffy cats in his arms, but it is.

Snapping out of my momentary lapse of judgment, I gaze at him quizzically. “What’s with the names?”

Elio’s bottom lip drops, feigning offense. “You’ve never watched The Powerpuff Girls?”

“Uh, no. I didn’t really watch much TV growing up, and I still don’t,” I reply, giving him more than I wanted to about myself.

“Interesting,” is all he says. He stands from his chair, the three cats still in his arms. “When I’m gone, be sure to fill their food bowls twice a day. Once in the morning and once at night. Keep fresh water in their bowls, and the litter box cleans itself, but the tray will need to be replaced once a week. The girls have their own room filled with beds, scratching posts, and toys as well.”

The fact that he has a freaking room dedicated to his cats whom he calls his girls is chipping at the coolness of my heart because no matter how much I try not to like him, I can’t pretend that this isn’t cute as hell.

“Okay, sounds easy enough,” I answer, willing myself to sound more confident because truthfully, I’ve never taken care of anything besides plants.

As if they can sense my fear, all three cats pounce out of his arms and back onto the table, sauntering over to me. Bubbles is the first one to sniff my hand, then give it a lick once she decides that she likes me. A loud purr fills the air as she rubs her body against my arm. Blossom and Buttercup follow suit, mimicking her.

Dammit, they’re cute.

“They’re not usually a fan of women,” Elio comments.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing you can’t bring your hookups home anymore,” I say, my tone icy.

The prick just laughs, shaking his head. “I meant my little sisters. I have never brought a girl here.”

I want to ask where he brings them then. It’s on the tip of my tongue because if anything, I’m nosy. Instead, I bite my tongue. “That must have been fun growing up.”

He cocks his head slightly, looking at me intently. “Yeah, your dad mentioned that you were his one and only.”

I scoff at that, pushing the stool back so that I can stand because this conversation is turning friendly, and I don’t need that.

“I’ll be back in two days to move my stuff in. I’m going to have Camille wait outside so that my parents think I’m living with her, so don’t be around, got it?” I tell him, walking back toward the living room.

“I’ll wait up here so I can help you carry your boxes.”

I look at him over my shoulder. “No need. There’s really not much. I can handle it.”

Suddenly, his large, warm hand is tugging at my wrist, halting my movement. I still, turning to face him.

Forest-green eyes bore into mine, a furrow between his brows. “Let’s get one thing straight, dolcezza. If I want to help you, I’m going to help you, get me?”

I have no idea what dolcezza means, but I’m assuming it’s probably something that’s going to make me want to punch him in the face.

I smirk up at him, noting once again how he towers over me. I shrug out of his grip while taking a step toward him because I’m not intimidated by him in the slightest. “And I hope you get this. I may be little, but I don’t need your help. I can carry some damn boxes myself.”

His eyes soften a bit, his body retreating from mine. “Sorry, you’re right.”

I’m surprised by his ability to communicate rather than spar with me because he easily could’ve. It throws me off, and I’m left blinking at him as I try to comprehend why I was even putting up a fight over it.

“It’s okay. Just don’t try to be all macho man with me, okay? I can handle myself. I’ve done it for twenty-one years now.”

His jaw clamps down, hiding the words he really wants to say. “I’ll try, but no promises.”

“That’s all I can ask for.” I turn and head toward the door.

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