Page 20 of The Labor Date
I don’t need to see what’s happening. I know. And I don’t approve.
That brute thinks he’s won, shutting the door on me as if he can shut me out of her heart. As if my years of loyalty, of curling beside her through heartbreak and long nights, can be undone in a single evening of sweat and noise.
I pace. I growl. The new queen cat, curled up smugly in the center of the bed, opens one blue eye at me as if to say,calm yourself.Easy for her—she doesn’t know what’s at stake.
But I know. Holly is my human. My world.
I leap onto the dresser, crouching low, listening. The sounds grow louder, and with every moan, I swear I lose another life. I swipe at a framed photo of me and Holly, sending it crashing to the floor.
Still, no one emerges. The door stays shut. Their voices blend into whispers and sighs.
Oh, the agony if Holly has finally found the one man who won’t let her down.
Oh, the loneliness I’ll have to face if she now has to split her time between me and Jerk-face.
Although… I’m not alone, am I?
I narrow my eyes at my queen, my tail curling like a question mark. I stalk toward her, suave and purposeful. She can’t resist a hunk of male feline like me.
Like what you see, my queen? Guess what? You’re all mine.
She slowly blinks her blue eyes as if sayingAbout time.
So maybe Scott isn’t so bad, bringing me a hottie like Duchess. But this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
The scoreboard in my head adjusts again: Cat 3, Scott 3. Tie game.
18
SCOTT
Two months later,life with Holly has gotten even better. Her aunt finally came home, and to say I won her over with my charm and handiness with a toolbox would be an understatement. After working through her list of small things that needed fixed around the house, Holly and I decided to get our own place closer to the arena.
We also decided to move from friends to lovers to boyfriend and girlfriend. The status suits us, for now, although I’m already planning an eventual popping of the question in a way befitting my gorgeous woman.
Winston’s TV show wrapped up filming just before Thanksgiving, but after the holidays he’ll have two movies to work on. Between my hockey games and Winston’s demanding filming schedule, Holly and I vowed to make this relationship work. Even if it means we rack up a lot of air miles in the process.
Interestingly, Winston’s been too busy to torment me. The reason? Duchess. What a stroke of genius that was on my part. Ever since I brought her home, Winston has been obsessed—following her around, grooming her, curling up like he finally has someone else to rule besides Holly.
It’s been the best two months of my life. Peaceful evenings. Quiet mornings waking up with Holly’s sexy body beside me.
I’m in the kitchen making my protein shake when she sets her travel bag on the counter, sighing. “I hate to leave you like this, hotshot, but it’s only a couple of days. Are you sure you can handle Winston and Duchess while I’m gone?”
Her mother is having a face peel tomorrow, whatever that is, and asked if Holly would be there for a few days in Denver to help her recover. And since she’s allergic to cats, that means I get cat duty. I’ll be responsible for the entire cat schedule, which has gotten even more convoluted with Duchess added in. Good thing the team has a bye week because I’ll be one busy, er, cat dad.
I give her my cockiest grin. “Baby, I play hockey in front of thousands. Two cats? Please. I’ve got this.”
She arches a brow, but her smile softens. “Okay. Just don’t let Winston trick you. He’s clever.”
“Don’t I know it? Go. I’ll be fine.”
She kisses me goodbye, long and sweet, then takes off, leaving me king of the castle—or at least at the beck and call of two finicky felines.
I go about my day, starting with cleaning my hockey gear. They need a good scrub. I put them in the tub to soak and then decide to wash our bed linens. Around the little house we’re renting, I have a list of things I’d like to do as a surprise for when Holly returns. Shelves she’s mentioned wanting installed in the bathroom. A pretty patterned wallpaper she picked out for her office, and such.
A few hours later, I move into our bedroom to put the fresh sheets on, only to find Duchess yowling on top of the mattress. Her body is elongated, tail between her legs, and the way she groans, something is off.
I go to move her, and she growls. That’s not like her. In fact, we’ve come to learn that I’m her person, much to Winston’s dismay. Nightly, while watching TV, I can count on her coming to lie on my lap. Winston prefers Holly’s lap, and somehow the entire situation works for us.
