Page 72 of Wedding Season
“Doesn’t it worry you?” They were walking down the farmers market’s center aisle. Several people waved or called out greetings, as many to Mariella as to him. She might not realize it, but she belonged here.
“A lot of things scare me. Most of them I can’t control, so I try not to worry too much.”
“It’s annoying how wise you are,” she said and he laughed.
“You like annoying.”
She squeezed his hand for a precious moment. Not an outright hand-holding because of the stupid business of keeping things secret but enough for Alex to know it was special and her way of reminding both of them of the connection they shared.
Satisfaction tingled along his nerve endings and made his heart full.
“I like you,” she said softly, the emotion in her voice lending a magnitude to the simple words.
He tightened his grip on her fingers in response. “Good. Because I like you, too.”
That and so much more.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ASHELEThimself into his quiet house the following week, Alex had to admit that Mariella might have been right to doubt whether he could live up to the responsibility Bex needed.
What had possessed him to adopt the cat the night of the farmers market? Mariella had called him wise but more accurately he should be shoved in the corner with an emotional-IQ dunce cap on his head. His thoughts and feeling had been a tumultuous muddle thanks to the conversation on the way there with Mariella.
Even without Heather’s disapproval, it was smart to keep their burgeoning relationship under wraps for a while. There’d already been enough speculation in town and with Drake and Amber on the books to arrive for their movie shoot and the Magnolia Blossom Festival, he didn’t want to feed the gossip mill. The town was abuzz with excitement at the idea of two A-list stars potentially rubbing elbows with the locals.
Alex could have told people they weren’t missing much with Amber, but he knew she’d turn on the charm, especially if it meant his neighbors would be more receptive to her version of their breakup.
The spotlight would be on him even more brightly. He wouldn’t choose the attention, but there was no way around it. The best thing for both him and Mariella would be a low profile until the Hollywood types were gone. He might be wise, but she’d been right.
His mind and heart were consumed with Mariella, a woman who wasn’t willing to publicly claim him, and Bex, a cat that acted as interested in clawing his eyes out as snuggling up to him.
The animal had spent the first several days in his home holed up under the sofa in the bedroom he’d converted to an office. She didn’t make a peep during daylight hours, but as soon as he turned out the lights for bed, she began a seemingly endless chorus of meows, feline chirps and full-blown howls.
Alex had closed the door to the office, but that encouraged her to complain more loudly. He’d tried talking to her and offering a variety of treats and toys for stimulation, but none of that had made a difference.
Last night, he’d finally resorted to sleeping on the sofa with the hope that she’d be soothed by his presence but not tempted to go for his throat while his defenses were down. He’d woken close to 4:00 a.m., roused by the rhythmic purr in his ear. At some point during the night, the cat had curled up next to his head, her relaxed body pressed against him.
Assuming she’d be more receptive to his attention in a drowsy state, he’d reached up a hand to pet her white belly and managed one long stroke before she’d nipped at his wrist. Then she’d jumped from the couch to retreat under the sofa.
The damn cat reminded him far too much of Mariella, although she probably wouldn’t appreciate the comparison.
The first night they’d stayed together, Mariella had curled around him, draping an arm across his chest, only to pull away as soon as she woke.
But Alex wasn’t going to quit on Bex—or Mariella for that matter. There was a difference between quitting and pivoting in order to view a challenge through a new lens.
He’d spoken with Meredith at length earlier that morning and had Heather cancel his afternoon appointments. He’d stopped at the rescue before his early return home and felt prepared to make some real headway with at least one of the women in his life.
“Hello,” he called as he entered the house like he expected the cat to respond. A flash of orange fur darted around the corner of the hallway.
It had to be a good sign that Bex was willing to explore the house on her own. He hoped she’d returned to the office and followed her in, leaving the door open so the cat didn’t feel trapped.
He sank onto the carpet in front of the sofa and ripped open the tube of lickable treats that Meredith had given him. He squeezed a dollop of chicken-flavored puree on the tip of his finger and lowered his hand to the floor.
Alex had no faith in this experiment but also very little to lose.
Meredith had called the treat tube “cat crack,” but Alex had a feeling his new pet wouldn’t be enticed so easily. To his shock, it only took a minute before he heard a rustling from underneath the sofa.
“That a girl,” he said quietly, looking straight ahead so he didn’t spook her. He tried to stay relaxed and completely still at the same time. A moment later, he felt the sensation of a rough cat tongue against his finger. Bex eagerly licked the dab of treat he’d put there, purring all the while. “You are so smart. It really is cat crack.”
