Page 11 of More Than a Blind Date

“Yes. I expected I’d be meeting your parents at some point. Friday and Saturday, I’m busy with wedding stuff, but I can make any other night work. Just give me ample notice so that I don’t show up smelling like cows.”

“I can’t believe you’re a real cowboy. That’s just so cool.” I feel like a freshman with a crush on the football star.

“You might not think so if you saw me before a shower.”

I laugh, then move the conversation along. “Were your friends surprised? I hate asking you to deceive them.” I put in my earbuds so that I can look at his picture while I chat with him. Floofy makes biscuits on my tummy while purring, which adds to the perfection of the moment.

Dallas is quiet for nearly a full second. “They were shocked. And since you’ll be meeting these guys, you should probably know that I’m the last single guy in my group, and I was pretty vocal about staying that way. So, they had questions. Most of which I think I dodged successfully. But I did have one friend—Anderson, the one getting married—call me out and ask what was really happening. I ended up telling him the whole thing, but he won’t spread it around.”

Knowing that Dallas planned to stay single makes me even more curious about why he agreed to this, but I’m going to save that question for later when I can see his expression.

“Dodging questions makes sense. We don’t exactly know each other well. I suppose we need to get together and compare life notes before dinner, huh?” The rush of excitement is finally starting to wane, and I pull the covers over me.

“Are you free Monday evening? I live in Stadtburg, but I can drive into town and pick you up.”

“Stadtburg? That’s where the new flower shop will be. What a coincidence. And yeah, Monday is good.” I stifle a yawn. “And I don’t live too far from there.”

“Great. Text me your address, and I’ll see you tomorrow. I need to go because the morning comes early.”

“Right. Go sleep. And thanks for calling. Bye.” I toss the phone aside.

This is by far the craziest thing I’ve ever done. All my life, I’ve chosen the path of least resistance and followed my parents’ wishes. But I’m tired of it. If it means that I’ll have to move out of this garage apartment, then so be it. I’m turning over a new leaf and making my own decisions.

“Right, Floofy?”

My kitty’s ears twitch, but he doesn’t open his eyes.

I’ve had him a few months. He’s a cuddle bug and my first act of defiance. But naming him Defiance was way too obvious.

I rush into the apartment,calling Floofy as I run back to the bedroom. Since a last-minute order kept me at the shop longer than normal, I’m rushing to get ready before Dallas arrives.

After stripping out of my work clothes, I’m almost to the shower when I stop, curious why Floofy hasn’t greeted me. It’s unusual.

I grab my robe and slip it on, knowing I’ll worry until I lay eyes on him.

“Floofy, come here, baby. Where are you?” I glance into the other rooms, then go into the kitchen. The food and water bowl aren’t on the floor. They’re sitting, clean, in the dish rack. Before screaming at my mother, I check the litter box in the laundryroom. Maybe washing the bowls was a good deed, but the pit growing in my stomach says otherwise.

There is no litter box in the laundry room.

Chin quivering, I march into my bedroom and pull on clothes. My mind is racing.

When I open my front door, my mother smiles. “Hello, dear. I’m glad I caught you. I didn’t want you to worry about your cat. Now that you’re engaged, I know you won’t have time for a pet, so I took care of that for you. Would Thursday work for dinner? We can’t wait to meet Dallas.”

“Where did you take Floofy? He’s my cat. You stole him.” I am no longer cautious with my words.

Mom rolls her eyes. “Talk to me when you’ve calmed down. But let me know about dinner soon so that I can make reservations.” She makes her way down the stairs.

I can feel rage boiling up and stinging my eyes with tears. Crying when I’m angry is truly an inconvenience. But I need to gather my thoughts before bursting into their house and yelling at my mom. I fully intend to do that, but I have no leverage, nothing to use to pry the info about where she took my kitty out of her.

Pacing inside my apartment, I wipe my wet cheeks. Why did this have to happen tonight? Dallas is going to see me and go running in the opposite direction. He probably hates seeing girls cry, and he definitely isn’t prepared for how absolutely nutty my parents are. Mostly my mom, but it’s not like my dad reins her in. He enables her crazy behavior.

A truck door closes, and I drag a sleeve across my face before opening the door.

Dallas smiles when he gets out of the truck, but after looking at me, he races up. “What’s wrong?”

I swipe at my cheek, determined not to dissolve into sobs. “My kitten…” I choke on a sob and can’t get any other words out.

Those strong arms are around me in an instant, and I dampen his shirt with my tears.

---