Page 10 of New Year, New You and Me

The second she’s out of the kitchen, I open the refrigerator door and stand in front of it. I know it won’t do much good. Hell, if standing outside in subzero temperatures did nothing to zap my desire for Molly, I doubt this will do a damn thing.

Still, it’s worth a shot.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and let it out slowly. I should be thinking unsexy thoughts. Like, how gross the debris I found clogging the drain on the pipe that directs water from a stream to my cabin. Or, hell, the searing pain that shot through me when Molly pelted me with the free-weight bar at the gym earlier today.

Instead, I can’t get the vision of a flush-faced Molly, breasts heaving, and eyes burning with a desire to match mine out of my head.

She wants me. A slow grin spreads across my lips. I knew it. And now, I’m about eight-five percent sure she knows it, too.

I’d been seconds away from trying my luck at kissing her. If only her damn alarm hadn’t gone off when it did. If only?—

A loud scream blares through the air. Panic lances my chest as I slam the refrigerator door closed and race toward the sound. It’s coming from a back room.

Another shriek pierces my ears. I reach a closed door and, not bothering to knock, I throw it open.

I find Molly sitting on the floor of her bathroom. In one hand, she’s holding a needle connected to an IV line. In the other hand, she’s cradling a yowling cat with long white and brown fur.

A medical bag with fluids hangs sits on the floor next to them.

“It’s okay,” Molly struggles to keep the cat in her arms as the fur-ball kicks at her. “Pigeon needs her treatment, and she’s not a fan.”

I nod. “Chronic kidney disease?”

“She was just diagnosed last week.” Molly’s eyes widen in surprise. “How did you know?”

“I had a cat with CKD.” Lowering on my haunches, I hold out my fingers for the cat—Pigeon.

Seemingly forgetting her fury at what’s going on, she sniffs my fingers curiously.

I smile instinctively. “His name was Charlie. He was the naughtiest—sweetest—little orange tabby you ever saw. It took us a while to get used to his treatment too.”

“It did?”

I nod. “But it was worth it. We got to spend almost two more years together thanks to the treatment.”

Deciding I’m no danger, Pigeon wiggles out of Molly’s arm and cautiously comes over to me.

Settling fully on the ground, I scoop her into my lap. She’s a little thing. She hardly weighs anything. But she’s also beautiful and, by all accounts, a sassy girl who isn’t afraid of speaking her mind.

“Just like her mama,” I murmur.

“What’s that?” Molly leans closer to me.

“Nothing.” I glance down at the cat, who is now making biscuits on my leg. “Would you like a little help?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course, not.” I give an encouraging smile. “Does she have any favorite treats? And maybe a favorite blanket?”

“She does.”

“Good. We’ll need both of those. And, do you have a hanger?”

“A hanger?”

“Trust me.”

Molly jumps to her feet and runs out of the bathroom. She returns a moment later. By then, I have Pigeon purring and the fluids up off the ground.

---