Page 15 of New Year, New You and Me

“You might as well take the call,” she says. “She won’t leave us alone until she’s fed.”

With a sigh, I turn on my side and reach for the phone on the nightstand.

“Hello,” I grumble into the receiver.

“Bradley, this is Pamela calling from the mayor’s office. Please hold.”

SEVEN

MOLLY

Phone pressed to his ear, Bradley darts a glance my way and mouths, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I whisper back, sliding out of the bed. I located the closest piece of clothing, which happens to be one of his flannel shirts. I slip it on over my shoulders.

His green eyes light up as he watches me do up a few of the buttons.

“I’ll go get us some coffee,” I whisper call over my shoulder, giving my hips a little extra shake, as I stride out the door.

He gives a little groan that leaves me giggling as I scoop Pigeon up and carry her to the kitchen to get us all some sustenance.

After he claimed me for a second time last night, Bradley once again helped me give Pigeon her sub-q fluids. She, of course, was beside herself purring and rubbing against him as he made up a second verse for her song.

I swear, my sweet and spicy little girl cat would leave me in an instant if he ever offered to take her home. Not that I blameher. My former nemesis has turned out to be so much more and wonderful than I ever could have imagined.

It’s too early to say I’m in love, of course. But Pigeon and I are definitely smitten kittens. And we both seem to like having him around.

I can only laugh at myself. If you would have told me even one week ago that I’d be taking coffee to this man—or that he’d currently be lounging in my bed—I would have asked what you’ve been smoking.

Nearing the bedroom door, I slow my gait to avoid interrupting his call more than I have. As I do, Bradley’s voice rings through the air.

“The New York travel agent is in town?”

I nearly trip over my own feet and narrowly avoid spilling the coffee. I swear, my heart stops.

“They want to meet with me? But what about Molly?”

My heart starts beating again. Now it’s thunder in my ears. It’s so loud, I can’t make out Bradley’s next words.

No longer caring if I’m interrupting something, I straighten my shoulders and enter my bedroom.

Bradley glances up. His jaw tightens and guilt flashes in his eyes.

“I have to go,” he says. “But I’ll see you then.”

He sets the phone down and accepts the coffee I hand him. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” His voice croaks slightly, which he attempts to mask by swallowing a gulp of the scalding coffee. “It’s nothing.”

My heart sinks to his feet.

It’s nothing. He’s not going to tell me that he’s going behind my back—and breaking our deal—so he can steal the client. And he says it’s nothing.

I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have trusted him. Unshed tears fill my eyes.

Turning on my heel before I can betray the emotions churning inside of me, I clear my throat.

“You know, I actually have some work I should be doing.” I slam my coffee mug down on the dresser and rip off his flannel shirt and toss it over my shoulder at him. I don’t want it, or anything that smells like him, remotely close to me at this moment.

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