Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Menace,” he barked, cursing himself for taking out the suitcase. A few months back, he’d moved her litter box down to the laundry room and she’d stopped eating for three days. Apparently he hadn’t learned his lesson. Dogs didn’t behave in nonsensical ways like this, but he didn’t have a dog. He had a deaf cat who was two seconds from being flattened by a car. She was moving at too fast a clip and he wouldn’t make it in time. Maybe the driver would see her and slow down? Menace was bright fucking orange for crying out loud.
August’s mouth went dry at the screech of tires on the road and a moment later, he broke through the trees . . .
Only to find his temperamental feline rolled over onto her back, preening, two inches from the front bumper of a blue hatchback. Totally unconcerned about her brush with death. Just another day wrecking the lives of humans and getting away with it because of her pink nose and toe beans. Unbelievable.
August started to step onto the road so he could scoop up the cat and thank the driver for being extra vigilant, but a husky cry stopped him in his tracks.
Natalie?
He’d never heard her make that sound before—no, his dreams didn’t count—but August knew instantly that she was the driver of the car. As a result, his body went on high alert. The kind of alert that came from tossing and turning last night, cursing himself for not being able to stop thinking about this woman he disliked, while also oddly conflicted about simply leaving her in the rearview. He hadn’t expected to see her again, but there she was.
Picking up his cat and cradling the animal to her chest in a flurry of apologies and nuzzling and chin scratching. As he watched dumbfounded, the cat leaned all the way back in Natalie’s arms and locked eyes with him from her upside-down position. Telling him in no uncertain terms with her bland expression that she had other options. And those options would be pursued if he made another false move, like brushing his teeth at the wrong time of day.
He should let Natalie know he was standing there. Right.
But it wouldn’t hurt to take a few seconds to admire the woman from behind. Hell, it was his favorite pastime. Noticing those legs, especially in the dress she was wearing. The pointy shoes that had just enough elevation to keep her calves flexed. Sweet Lord, those legs went on forever. On his deathbed, his final regret would be missing his chance to feel them glued to his hips. Thrashing around when she got close, then wrapping him back up again for the finale.
“Poor baby,” Natalie crooned to the cat, rocking her like an infant. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Where is your owner?” she murmured.
“Right here, princess,” August called. Natalie spun around and he gulped. Damn. She always looked hot, but there was something extra special about her today. “You’ve got a bunch of black shit on your eyes.”
Her whole body sort of deflated at the sight of him. Complete exasperation in human form. “It’s eyeliner, caveman.”
“Why are you wearing so much of it?”
Her shoulder bounced up and down. “Maybe I had a date.”
Rudely, his esophagus tied itself into a knot. “With who?”
God, he hated the idea of her on a date more than he hated . . . anything. Just because they weren’t dating didn’t mean she could just date anyone else, willy-nilly. Because that wasn’t irrational or anything, right?
She swayed with the cat, as if trying to lull the animal to sleep. “I wasn’t out with anyone,” she muttered. “I went to buy foundation and ended up in a chair getting made over.”
He hid his relief. “They saw that high-limit credit card coming a mile away.”
A bright smile. “Shouldn’t you be out clubbing a wooly mammoth or something?”
August smirked. “I should be packing, but my cat ran off.”
Natalie adjusted her stance to jut that shapely hip out. “You expect me to believe this is your cat? She’s your pet?”
“More accurately, I’m her pet.”
She scrutinized the animal, lifting it up and leaning in closer. “Why isn’t she wearing a collar?”
“Look, I don’t know what cats allow collars around their necks, but Menace”—he jabbed a finger in the animal’s direction—“isn’t one of them. She’d probably pretend to like it for an hour and then I’d wake up to find a death threat written in blood on my bathroom mirror, signed with a paw print.”
Did Natalie’s lips jump a little or was that wishful thinking?
Because yeah, the woman had a gorgeous smile. He’d seen a lot of it up close. He’d tasted it. Months had passed since that night and the knowledge that he’d never taste it again wasn’t getting any easier. At least not as long as he continued to run into her in St. Helena. This attraction he’d been burdened with for Natalie was a motherfucker. Once again, his dick ruined everything—and it was ruining his getaway right now. He should be packing, starting the journey to forgetting about what might have been if he’d just been less of an asshole. Or if she was less of a spoiled brat.