Page 16 of More Than a Blind Date

He rubs against my leg, then darts down the hall.

“Be nice to my house please.” I wander into my room and close the door.

It isn’t long before Floofy starts meowing outside my room. So like a dork, I run around the room in my boxer briefs, shoving stuff into drawers and closets to get them away from kitty claws.

Then I let him into my room. “I’m not opening the other doors. This is as good as it gets.”

Floofy stares at me a second, then runs back down the hall.

I’m too tired to play chase with a kitten, so I climb into bed. Rose dominates my thoughts as I fall asleep. She doesn’t deserve the way her mom treats her. And I’ll do my darnedest to find Rose a safe place for her and for Floofy.

In the wee hours, I wake up with Floofy snuggled against me and using my shoulder as a pillow. I give him a scratch, and that motor inside him starts whirring. Maybe I don’t dislike cats.

CHAPTER 7

ROSE

I’m at work early so that if Dad wants to chat about yesterday, we can get that out of the way before customers show up. But Dad doesn’t arrive until after opening. He’s all business, and I know that once we have a lull, I’ll get one of his disappointed looks and the lecture that goes along with it.

None of it is new. And I always made a point not to rock the boat. I was always afraid of what would happen if I did. Fall in? I never wanted to risk that. But now I have this cowboy who somehow eases my fear of drowning. And that makes it easier to shake things up a bit.

During a mid-morning lull, Dad cleans up the counter where we’ve been prepping arrangements. “Calling the police on your mom was a bit extreme. She means well, and you know that.”

“Dallas called them because he saw me upset and asked what happened. And I think she only took the cat because she’s mad that I’m engaged.”

Dad sighs and doesn’t look at me. “We want the best for you, Rose. Your mother and I want to see you happy and successful. And it seems you don’t care about our opinion, which hurts.”

“Richard isn’t the best for me, Dad. I do not like him, let alone love him. If I dated him, I’d be miserable. You know who is good for me? Dallas. He cares about my opinions, my concerns.”

“Don’t speak badly of Richard. His parents are some of our dearest friends. We’re like family. And when you speak ill of Richard, you are slandering them. Don’t do that. And I’m not sure about this Dallas guy. He seems like a troublemaker to me.”

“Well, I love him.” The words are much too easy to say about a man I just met. But he has shown more care for my needs than I’ve gotten from my parents ever. They only cared when my needs were in line with their vision for my life.

“I don’t think we should have dinner together. Your mom needs time to recover from the scare of having a deputy at her door.”

“Okay. No problem. You can meet him at the engagement party.” I busy myself with the display cabinet so that I don’t have to see Dad’s scowl.

“The cat needs to be out by tonight. Your mom is worried about the condition of the apartment. Pet damage.” There is an apologetic hint to his words. He backs up Mom with whatever she wants, but when he knows it hurts me, there is always that thread of apology and guilt.

Now, I meet his gaze. “Floofy moved in with Dallas until I find a new place.”

Dad’s eyes go wide. “You don’t need to move. Living in our apartment, you save money. And you’re safe. The neighborhood is good. Rentals that you can afford are in dangerous areas. Moving doesn’t make sense.”

“How much notice do you need? A month? Two weeks? Just let me know.” I smile as a customer walks in.

Their timing is perfect, and I’d hug them, but that would be super weird.

Later in the day, my mom starts texting me all the reasons I cannot move out of the apartment. And every single text is just added motivation to find a new place to live.

Once I’min my car, I text Dallas.

Me:Is it okay if I come over for a bit to see Floofy?

He’s probably out roping cattle or tossing hay bales, so I toss my phone in the cupholder and head toward home. On the way, I’ll stop to get boxes. And if Dallas doesn’t mind me lounging on his sofa, I’ll search for places to rent.

My phone buzzes just as I’m parking outside my apartment, and I laugh when I read the text.

Dallas:Floofy? That’s who you want to see? I’m hurt.

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