Page 56 of Beautiful Harmony

The cat made her signature squeaky meow and scratched at the rug below her paws.

The doorbell rang a third time, and Rayna rolled her eyes. No doubt it was someone dropping off an animal to her, but at least they were sticking around and not just dumping it on her porch and running. God, she really needed to get a doorbell cam.

She added that to her mental list of things the rescue couldn’t afford and yanked open the door. “How can I help…”

Her voice died in a soft croak as she stared at the man on her front porch. He was around six feet tall and wore a wool peacoat that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe, dark slacks, and black Oxford loafers that shone even in the dim light of her porch.

His dark hair, threaded with silver at the temples, was cut short, and he had sharp cheekbones and a perfect nose. Dark stubble covered his jaw, and icy blue eyes stared at her from below thick but perfectly groomed eyebrows.

Shit. Isaac Stark was standing on her porch. Now what the hell did she do?

Invite him in? Offer him coffee? Ask him if he wants to fuck?

Her face went a bright, scorching red. Where the hell did that come from?

He’s fucking gorgeous!

Okay, maybe, but it’s not like he was the only good looking guy in Harmony Falls.

I bet he looks amazeballs when he’s naked.

Down, girl!

Warmth flooded her lower body when he cocked one perfect eyebrow and said, “May I come in, Ms. Abrams?”

His voice made her think of soft beds and hard hands that knew exactly where to touch and tease.

She saw the pregnant cat make a break for the open door from the corner of her eye. She reached down and caught her before she could escape, holding the cat against her chest as Stark gave her an impatient look. “Ms. Abrams? May I come in?”

She should have said no and slammed the door in his face, but unnerved by her reaction to him, she stepped back mutely so he could step inside. He closed the door behind him, and they stared silently at each other. The cat squirmed to be let down, and she set it on the floor. It sniffed at Stark’s shoes before rubbing up against his pant leg. Distaste crossed his face, and he made a shooing motion with his foot, reaching down to brush the cat hair from his pants.

The cat rubbed against his hand, and he grunted in annoyance before straightening. “I’m Isaac Stark.”

“I know who you are.” Thank fucking Christ, she sounded normal. “And I know why you’re here.”

“Good.” He gave her a thin smile. “Then this conversation won’t take long.”

“No, it won’t. The answer is no. Have a good evening, Mr. Stark.”

His smile didn’t waver. “You haven’t even heard my proposal yet, Ms. Abrams.”

“Not interested,” she said.

“Give me five minutes,” he said.

“I have plans for the evening,” she said.

His gaze slid over her, those cold blue eyes judging the stained Pokemon sweatshirt, the leggings with matching holes at the knees, and the purple Crocs on her feet.

“They’re casual plans,” she said defensively.

“Indeed. I’m sure you can spare five minutes,” he said.

She sighed and made a show of glancing at her watch even though her evening plans consisted of sitting on the couch with Bea and answering texts from fosters while she updated the rescue’s website.

“Fine,” she said. She headed down the hallway. She could take Mr. Multi-Millionaire into the kitchen where dogs wouldn’t accost them, or she could make him sit in the living room with Bea and the pit bulls.

With a grin, she opened the baby gate leading into the living room, pushing back the excited pit bulls with her thighs. She pointed to the armchair in the corner. It was covered in fur, and its fabric was torn and bleeding stuffing from numerous cat claws.

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