Page 76 of The Cupcake Cottage

“What an awful name.”

“She has kittens in the barn. Penguin, Duck, Coyote, Panther, and Shark.”

“Poor cats, named after NHL teams.”

“I thought it was clever.” He got up and traveled through the kitchen to open the back door off the laundry room. “Hey, Kraken. Time to take off.” He left the door open and leaned through the doorway to check on the cat. She hadn’t moved and was now licking her front paw as though she owned the place. Or more likely, waiting for her gourmet dinner. She was looking a lot healthier and less bony than she had two months ago, but he still didn’t want her in the house. If she came in, he’d suddenly have six cats in here, and that was about three too many for him as a first-time cat owner. If you could even own a cat.

“I was wondering where you kept the food,” his mother said, scooping the feline into her arms. Kraken purred, already knowing who was the boss even though he was the one that fed her.

“Her kittens are outside. She’s an outside cat.”

His mother cooed over Kraken, taking her into the kitchen and setting her on the counter.

“That’s also where I feed her—outside.” He swept the cat into his arms. “Off the counter.” Kraken climbed up his shirt and launched off his shoulder like she was a slap shot sent from a possessed puck machine.

“Whoa.” Maverick turned. The cat had landed on top of the old fridge, watching him. “I don’t think I like feral felines in my house.”

“She’s not feral.”

He picked up his phone and shot a text to Brant Wylder, Myles’s brother, who was the local veterinarian and animal control officer. He had been meaning to ask if anyone was missing a cat. He figured two months late was better than never.

Had two months really gone by since he and Daisy-Mae found her?

Brant’s reply was quick. The former owner hadn’t owned a cat, and none matching Kraken’s description had been reported as missing.

“What are you doing?” his mom asked, sending a pointed frown at Maverick’s phone as he typed out a reply. She had begun telling him about his new plants that would surely die in a week and explaining how to avoid that.

“I’m asking Brant if he has a large, cat-eating dog.”

“Maverick!”

He grinned and tucked his phone into his back pocket. “So tell me about these plants.”

“Iwas.” She huffed with impatience. “I hope you show Daisy-Mae more attention than you show me.”

He sobered. His heart still stung from their fight, and he still couldn’t solve the riddle of why they’d argued or when they’d have a chance to make up. Daisy-Mae was used to fame and attention. Yes, he was crazy busy. Yes, he couldn’t always maketheir wedding plan appointments. But he loved her. And she loved him, right? They’d done okay earlier in their relationship moving their lives around. Shouldn’t they be more okay than they were?

His mom reached into a large bag she’d parked on the counter. Her hands moved, but her eyes remained locked on him. He watched her watching him for a long beat.

“You always liked her,” his mom said simply. “And I know she was Myles’s girl for a long time. But I could always tell when she’d been hanging out with you boys. You were always brighter afterward.” He gave her a look, and she waved a hand. “It’s just one of those things mothers notice.” She lowered her voice. “Myles is wonderful, but I always thought you and Daisy-Mae would be a better match. I’m glad you two found each other.” She watched him again.

He sighed. He might as well dive into the conversation she wanted to have rather than let her wear him down. “We’re fighting.”

“About what?”

“She doesn’t like fame.”

His mom frowned. “You were both reaching for that sort of attention as teens—her with her crowns and you with your hockey. Looking to get noticed as something special. Are you sure it’s the fame that’s bothering her?”

“Ilikehockey. And my ability to mess up my reputation shows I don’t care about being a celebrity.”

“Or maybe it just gets you more attention.” She gave him a smug smile.

“You think I sabotage myself?”

She shrugged, a bratty twinkle in her eyes.

She was teasing.

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