Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
She takes a long breath, sizing me up. Fair enough. A man like me at her door warrants skepticism, and I appreciate the protectiveness.
But that's my job now, and the sooner Nana trusts me, the better.
"All right. Thank you," she says, stepping aside. "Would you like to come in?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Tabby grins as her grandmother steps back inside, and whispers, her fingers giving my arm a happy squeeze, "She likes you! I knew she would!" Which contradicts my impression, but I'll take it.
Inside, I spot another cat watching from the stairs.
"That's Gumball," Tabby explains, her eyes lighting up every time she sees one of the cats. "She's shy. I need to change and feed them. You'll be okay with Nana?"
"We'll be fine," Nana answers before I can. "Come sit with me, young man."
I hate that she’s going to be out of my sight even here where I’m sure she’s safe, but I follow Nana to a barely furnished sitting room. The house is clean but bare and desperate for repairs. My timeline for moving Tabby just accelerated.
The walls display Tabby at various ages—school photos, graduation, a newspaper clipping showing her in cat ears presenting an oversized check.
But the room itself is sparse—two mismatched armchairs, an ancient TV, worn carpet, and peeling wallpaper with claw marks along the bottom edge.
Mrs. Burrows gestures to a chair and takes the other. As I sit, she says bluntly, "I don't believe you."
"Excuse me?"
"I want the truth. You said making sure Tabby got back safely was all. I wasn't born yesterday."
I've had easier interrogations from men who wanted me dead. "You’re right."
"Good. I can't stand bullshit. What are your intentions toward my granddaughter?"
"I'm going to make her mine. If you want the truth, she’s mine already, I just need to seal the deal. She’s a handful, but I’ve got two big hands."
No sugar-coating for this woman.
"Does she know?"
I consider that. "I think she suspects."
"But you haven't told her?"
"No."
For a few heartbeats, I think she’s going to tell me to fuck off. And I really hope that doesn’t happen, because I don’t want to go to war with an old lady. “She’s everything to me, you hear me? You hurt that girl, you break her heart, and I’m going to hunt you down and make you scream for your mother before I’m finished with you. Am I understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You have good manners. I like that.”
“Miss Burrows. No bullshit. I’m in love with your granddaughter. I’m going to take care of her.”
She stares for a moment, then nods. “I like that too. A man should know his own heart, and he should be man enough to admit it. Too many men these days are scared of everything. Scared of commitment, scared of opening up their hearts, scared of telling their girl that she’s their girl, and nobody and nothing is going to take her away.”
“If anybody even tries to take Tabby away from me…” The thought has me grinding my teeth, and she nods.
“Good. Keep it that way and we won’t have a problem. When Tabby returns I’m going to ask you if you would like to stay to dinner. You’re going to refuse. I need an evening with my granddaughter while she’s still mine and not yours. Am I understood?”
I can’t quite stifle the grin. “Yes, ma’am.”
So I’ve just had my balls handed to me by an old lady. But I’ve also gained her respect. It’s a win, even if it means I have to walk away for one evening.
I can do that. It will kill me, but I’ll make the arrangements I need to hold on to my sanity.
A few silent minutes later, Tabby pushes the door open and comes into the room, taking a seat on the arm of the chair I’m occupying. I put an arm around her waist, and her grandmother doesn’t object. Neither does Tabby.
And that’s the way things should be.
“Would you like to stay to dinner, Duffield?” Nana asks, her expression unreadable.
I consider making a quip, telling her I thought there wasn’t enough food. But my father’s wise words come back to me: choose your battles.
“No, ma’am. I have business to take care of. I would like Tabby to walk me out though.”
It’s a liberty, but Nana gives me her blessing with a nod, and doesn’t follow us to the door. So I seize my chance stalling us in the little vestibule just inside the front door closing the other door that leads into the house, trapping us in the too small for my size space but it’s enough for now.
I check the front of the house from the window in the door, scanning, making sure there are no threats because I’m about to be distracted as fuck.
It’s a possessive instinct, honed over years of guarding what’s mine—or what will be.
God, she’s small. A tiny thing, barely reaching my shoulder, but radiating a heat that could melt glaciers. And those damn cat ears. A black headband supporting delicate pink ears, perched atop a cloud of pink hair—a vibrant, unapologetic shade that somehow perfectly suits her. It’s almost…endearing.