Page 19 of Heart Strain

“You always loved pits,” she says.

“That’s because they’re misunderstood and so many people judge them for what they are, when really, most of them are sweethearts.” I smile at her, then look at Jameson. “I did the surgery to remove his leg, and when he was recovering, I ended up falling in love with him. He needed round the clock care for a few weeks, so I took him home, and after a couple of days, I officially adopted him.”

“What happened to his leg?”

I focus on the kitten in my arms and say the words without trying to remember what Peanut looked like when I first met him. “His old owners were neglectful and left him outside, chained to a fence, exposed to the elements. His foot got tangled in the chain, and we think in his attempts to get himself untangled, he made it worse and worse over time. The chain was so far imbedded in his skin, it had to have been there for weeks or longer. I had to remove chain links from around his neck, too. The next time you pet him there, you can feel the scars. I’ll show you if you want. Anyway, his leg was so infected I couldn’t save it. The infection had already moved up past his knee. We’re lucky the neighbors reported it when they did because he probably wouldn’t have survived much longer in that condition.”

Jameson frowns. “I’m really glad you helped him. He’s such a sweet dog.”

I send him a soft smile. “Thanks. I think so, too.” I pick up a little fuzzball and snuggle her to my chest, then kiss the top of her head before I catch Jameson staring at me. “What?”

“I didn’t think you were a cat person.”

Laura laughs. “You should see him with the dogs and other animals if you think that’s bad.”

Chuckling, I shrug since it’s true, and Jameson smiles at me before focusing on the three kittens playing over his lap and saying, “How am I ever going to choose?”

Laura says, “There’s no rule saying you can’t take two home with you.”

He scratches behind the ears of a little white kitten with black spots. “Oh yeah? What’s the limit, then? Because they’re all cute.”

I laugh a little and say, “I’m limiting you to two.”

Jameson sticks out his plump bottom lip, and I’m so distracted by thoughts of biting it that I almost miss what he says. “Is that all?”

It takes real effort to pull my gaze away from his lips up to his eyes, and I have to swallow around my dry mouth before answering, “Yes. I’m not letting you become the crazy cat lady.”

“Since I’m not a lady or crazy, I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t apply to me, anyway.”

I lift my brows, then look at Laura. “True or false: a man can become a crazy cat lady.”

“True.” She giggles.

I smile and look back at Jameson. “It’s two against one on that one, so I win.”

He snorts. “Fine. I won’t adopt a million cats. Happy?”

I grin widely. “Very.” I lift the fuzzball so he can see her cuteness. “I like this one.”

“Why don’t you adopt her, then?”

“Ha! Very funny. It would only be a matter of time before she hates me and starts peeing on my pillow.”

Jameson laughs and shakes his head, but takes the kitten from my hands and says, “She really is cute.”

Smiling, I sit back and watch him instead of the cats. He makes the most adorably sexy faces when he thinks no one but the cats are watching him, and he’s so stunning and sexy and cute, I can’t take my eyes off him. But then I realize what I’m thinking and I shake myself out. I can’t be thinking of him that way, and really, who the hell says someone’s cute except thirteen-year-olds?

I shake my shoulders out to rid myself of the thoughts, but the whole time we’re there, I can’t stop watching him. And those lips. Plump, pink, sexy. I wonder what they taste like? I have to discreetly adjust myself several times, but I always look back at those lips and picture tasting them, or better yet, picture them around my cock with Jameson on his knees in front of me so I can fuck his mouth and he—Fuck! Stop it, Holden. Get ahold of yourself.

Jameson ends up picking out the kitten I liked plus one of the males that kept crawling on his lap. I couldn’t stop smiling when he decided on adopting two—they’re going to be a handful, but I’m happy he’s getting them both. He fills out the paperwork to adopt them, but he’ll have to come back in a couple of days to pick them up. When we get in the car to go home, he says, “Thanks for taking me there. That seems like a really great place.”

“No problem, Foxy.” I mutter under my breath, “It’s the only place I could be myself when I lived here.” Jameson shoots me a weird look I can’t decipher, and I’m a little worried that he heard me, so I say, “Wanna watch a movie and order take out?”

He stares at me for a few seconds before smiling. “Sure. Sounds good.”

I nod and buckle up, ignoring those goddamn lips of his. Jameson Fox’s lips are going to be the death of me.

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