Page 18 of The Labor Date
“You don’t want to go yet, girl, do ya? Huh? You’re so precious. Surely you can win old Winston the sourpuss over, can’t you?”
Holly comes out of the kitchen and observes me. “It’s for the best, Scott. Winston can’t go on like this. His therapist says?—”
“Look, I’m sorry. Duchess is so sweet, though. She needs a good home, and I hate to take her back to the shelter. I just thought giving Winston a furry friend might help.” I put a few treats in the crate and encourage Duchess inside, locking the gate behind her.
Speaking of, the devil himself jumps down from his perch and starts purring and nuzzling Holly’s legs. She picks him up and babies him; he purrs louder. “I think he’s an only child and prefers it that way.”
I would have addedspoiledonly child.
“Look, let’s not rush to decide yet. Duchess will be fine in the crate for a little while. This way, Winston can have some space. What do you say we go to yoga? I saw a new sign down the road for a goat yoga class and thought we’d try it out together tonight. I think we could both use some chakra clearing.”
She glances up at me in amazement and puts Winston down on the couch. “Does this mean I can book you a reiki appointment next week, too? Trust me, you’ll be amazed what it does for your game.”
I bit my tongue to keep from saying,baby I got plenty of game.“Sure. What can I say? You’re a good influence on me and my health.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. My ex hated my interfering with his health routine.”
“We both know I’m a better man for you than he ever was.” I try to calm the jealous monster inside of me, and bring her into me for a hug, our bodies melding together. I recite the ABCs in my head to prevent getting hard. If ever there is a moment for tenderness, this is it. She doesn’t need my rod poking into her right now.
I sprinkle my fingertips gently up and down her back. “Safe to say I’m nothing like your ex. I hate how awful he was to you. If I ever see him, I’d knock him out for the way he treated you—and Winston. But, baby, I’m glad it didn’t work out with him. Otherwise, we never would have met on our holidate. For that, I should thank the asshole.”
The honesty earns me a few kisses and a promise of sexy times later tonight. She knows I’ll take her up on that promise, too.
Before we leave, she assures Winston with cuddles and pets. Duchess remains calm in her crate, and I’m sure she’ll be fine until I get back.
After yoga class,we wobble back into the Mercedes smelling faintly of lavender and goat sweat. No, I’ll never live it down if I tell the guys in the locker room about the things I do for Holly.
Reiki, goats, kale chips, whatever it takes to get her in my bed tonight, that’s all that matters.
Holly giggles from the passenger seat. “You made it through downward goat. I’m impressed, hotshot.”
“Barely,” I admit, grinning like a fool. “Those baby goats though, adorable. You sure we can’t bring one of those home for Winston to play with?”
“I think Winston has been traumatized enough.” She glows from the class, cheeks flushed, hair a mess in the best way. I could kiss her right here in the parking lot. But I don’t. I can wait until the couch or the bed or wherever the night decides to end.
Because, mark my words, I’ll be inside of her all night long.
When we get home, we open the front door still giggling about the way baby goat hooves feel on our back, but stop dead in our tracks. Everything is wrong. Like we’ve been burglarized.
“What the hell?” I step inside and put her behind me, grabbing an umbrella from the stand to defend us.
Cushions lay willy-nilly on the carpet. A lamp sits on its side by the couch. But when we find Duchess’ crate wide open and white paw prints smeared throughout the house like they tipped over a flour container and danced in it, I realize what happened.
“It’s a damn cat-pocalypse.” I set the umbrella down. This mess is a statement of defiance by one cat whose name starts with a W, I’m sure of it.
He probably opened the crate himself and wanted to inflict terror on poor Duchess one more time. Hell, he doesn’t deserve a precious girl like her.
The way Holly glares at me, I give in. “Fine. I’ll take Duchess back tomorrow. Now, where are they?”
We follow the trail of paw prints to Holly’s bedroom and gasp. Winston and Duchess are curled together in the middle of the bed, tails twined like they’ve been lovers forever.
The first emotion to hit me is jealousy. My second is a stupid grin creeping across my face because, holy hell, my plan worked, just like I thought it would.
“Aww,” Holly exhales, part reprimand, part delight. “Winston and Duchess, you two are so cute.” She takes out her phone and gets at least a dozen photos of them, stopping now and then to touch her heart and gaze at me with much appreciation.
Winston murmurs a smug purr, full of contentment. Duchess stretches and curls around him, giving him a couple of licks on his head before snuggling back to sleep.
For once, Winston’s not plotting to murder me. I call that progress.
