Page 84 of Texting Dr. Stalker

I hated the way she looked at me. It killed me to think that all she saw when she looked at me was pain and abuse and the man who’d tried to rape and murder her.

With my chest tight, I cleared my throat and held up the box. “I’m so sorry to do this, but I have an emergency and wondered if you could help?”

Her eyes dropped to the orange furball. “What kind of emergency?”

“I have to go to work, but I rescued this little guy yesterday. Can you watch him until I come back? I’ve brought everything he needs.” I glanced at the box. “I’ve included the formula mix, but if you don’t want to bother with it, he’s old enough to eat on his own.” I dared catch her eyes again. “I wouldn’t ask if I had any other option.”

A flash of pain cut across her face. “So I’m your last resort?”

“Yes. I mean. No. Eh …I know this is a huge imposition, and I don’t want to put you out.”

Taking a hesitant step toward me, she peered at the kitten. A ghost of a smile tipped up her lips. “He’s pretty cute.”

“He’s a rascal, but I think if you tire him out, he should sleep for the rest of the day. I’m sure he won’t be a bother, and you won’t have to cat sit again. I’ll call the SPCA when I finish work and get him set up there.”

“Oh, that’s a bit sad.” She pouted. “You can’t keep him?”

“Not with my hours.” I shrugged. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It just wouldn’t be fair.”

Sucking on her bottom lip, she hesitantly reached for the box.

My pulse skipped at her proximity.

“Okay…I guess I can watch him.”

“You will?Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

She sniffed and tried smiling again. “I’m not planning on leaving the house today, so it might be nice to have some company.”

I couldn’t respond to that without revealing I knew far too much about why she wasn’t leaving and why she needed company. To be honest, I liked the thought of her having a little creature in the house. Something she could talk to if the TV randomly turned on again or if memories decided to haunt her.

Taking a deep breath as if fortifying herself to come nearer, she squeaked a little as I shifted and handed her the box.

Our arms brushed.

Our faces came closer than they’d ever been.

All I wanted to do was grab her in a kiss.

I couldn’t tear my eyes off her mouth.

I couldn’t forget how happy she’d been to see me last night and how she leaned on me whenever she got scared.

I spoke before I could stop myself. “Sailor, I—”

“Didn’t you say you were late?” Hefting the box-trapped kitten into her arms, she forced a smile. It came out a little strained, a little wobbly. “Go to work, Alexander. I’ve got this.”

“Zander.” I sighed. “Please call me Zan if you don’t like Zander. No one has ever called me Alex.”

She backpedalled, almost tripping on the rug in the foyer. “Okay, sorry. I, eh, I won’t do it again. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine.”

“Have a good day at work.”

I squeezed my nape. My nervous fidget couldn’t be ignored as I shifted my glasses higher up my nose. I backed up a step, giving her room. “If the cat gets to be too much, just call the hospital, and someone will contact me. I’ll see if one of my sisters can pop by to take him.”

“Okay.” She refused to make eye contact, her entire body language screaming for me to leave.

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