Page 35 of Snowed In on Valentine's Day

“Why do I have a feeling you’re not just talking about Monopoly?”

He scowled but said nothing, picking up the dice.

When I felt something brush against my ankle under the table, I gasped and nearly jumped out of my chair. He raised his eyes to my panicked face.

What was that? It wasn’t Peter. “It was soft and furry, something slinking past me. Like—”

I watched as he bent down beneath the table and then surfaced with a cat in his arms. The same one I’d seen yesterday. Or maybe it was the day before? I’d lost track.

Closing my eyes in mortification, I sunk back into the chair and palmed my forehead. “Sorry, I should’ve known—I’m not usually this easily spooked, you know? It’s this whole situation …” I trailed off, realizing I was overexplaining. “Well, hello, kitty. Do you have a name?”

I actually loved cats. I wanted to pet this one, but I knew it was important to find out a cat’s personality and preferences first. They could be very picky about people.

“This is Randy,” he said as he rubbed the cat’s cheeks. When I made a face, he sighed. “I know, kind of a weird name for a cat. But that’s what somebody named it, and he won’t answer to anything else.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing and oohing and ahhing. “I still can’t believe you’re a cat daddy. I never saw that coming.”

His brows scrunched together as he looked down at the adorable cat, his blue eyes vibrant and as beautiful as his owner’s eyes. “There are many things you don’t know about me.”

I nodded. “I’m learning that.”

He tried to pick the cat fur off his pants but then gave up. “I don’t even know why I try. He sheds worse than any other cat I’ve met, and he’s a short hair!”

I wondered then how many other cats he’d known. And when he’d stop surprising me.

“So why haven’t we seen more of Randy?”

“He can be skittish, especially around new people. And it’s a big house … he’s still getting acclimated.”

“May I pet him?”

The crease between his brows returned. “Well, you can try. But as I said, he’s rather skittish most of the time. I’m surprised he came this close to you tonight.”

I stood and walked slowly over to him as he eyed me with what I hoped was interest. “Nice to meet you, Randy. Can I pet you?” I held my hand out for him to sniff first and then raised it to the top of his head. But before I’d gone more than a few inches, I noticed the cower. He backed away, trying to huddle further into Peter’s arms. Sensing alarm, Peter let him jump off and sprint away from us.

“Aww, I’m sorry I scared him. I’m usually pretty good with animals. Both cats and dogs love me, and I love them.” I sighed while returning to my chair by the board. “Why do you think he’s so skittish? Have you had him since he was young or—”

“No, he was a rescue,” he said, a dark look passing over his features. “He was two years old when I adopted him last year.”

I frowned. “Oh, so you think—”

“He didn’t come from a good home,” Peter said with gritted teeth. “Let’s just leave it at that.” He picked up the dice abruptly. “Is it my turn or yours?”

“I … don’t remember.” I looked at the game board and then back up to his eyes. “Sorry for bringing up any past trauma. But if it matters, I’m glad Randy has you now.”

I was glad? Why? Just a couple days ago, I didn’t even like him enough to come to his house in an emergency, and now suddenly I thought he could be trusted with a helpless little animal? My head spun with the implications. Did Ilikehim now? No, no, it couldn’t go that far.

Peter’s face relaxed a bit as he nodded. “Thank you. I just wish …”

“What?”

He inhaled and exhaled slowly. “There are so many others in similar situations.”

“And you wish you could do more?” I asked gently.

His lips were pressed together as he nodded, his mind seeming far off from where we were. A long moment later, his eyes met mine with something like … wonder? Gratitude?

Or maybe shared struggle, as we were in this mess together. Maybe he decided he didn’t quite hate me either.

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