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Antonio comes up to my side with a pen and paper in his hand.
“Why are you two talking about strays?” Antonio asks.
“Libby saw a stray cat out under the dumpster in the back.”
“There’s strays back there all the time, Princess.”
I roll my eyes.
“I know, but this wasn’t a cat—it was a kitten. A tiny, tiny kitten.”
“You want to rescue it?” Antonio asks. I nod. “Baby, it’s probably wild. Just call animal control.”
“I will if I can’t lure it out.”
“If you can’t lure it out?” he repeats, his brows pulling together.
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do with it if you do manage to lure it out?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Give it a bath and take it home . . . ?”
“Take it home?”
“Why are you repeating everything I say?”
“Because you’re talking about taking a feral cat home with you.”
“It’s just a kitten,” I remind him.
“It’s also wild.”
“Whatever. I don’t know why we’re discussing this. I’m not asking you for help in luring it out or taking care of it.”
“Taking care of it?” He looks at me like I have a few screws loose.
“Yes, taking care of it—if I can get it out. I’ll take it home, clean it up, then take it to the vet to make sure it’s okay.”
“Then you’re going to keep it?”
“Well, yeah, if I can.”
“And if you can’t keep it?”
“Then I will find it a good home.”
“You’re serious?”
He sounds surprised, and I really don’t know why—I just told him what my plan was.
“I’m going to get my coat, then head down the block to the corner store to get some milk for it.”
“Fuck me. You’re serious.”
“I already told you I was serious,” I growl, and his face softens in a way that I have to say I like a whole lot.
“I’ll go get you some milk.”
“I can get it.”
“And so can I. You stay here where it’s warm. I’ll go get you some milk for your wild cat,” he says, making me wonder how it’s possible that he can be a jerk and sweet at the exact same time.
“Whatever,” I grumble.
He smiles at me before he takes off. I watch his ass in his jeans as he goes, thinking he really does have a great ass, great legs, a great back, and an awesome strut.
“It’s about damn time,” Hector mutters.
I swing around to look at him, realizing once again I was watching Antonio like a lovesick idiot in a romance movie.
“I’m happy for you two.”
“I . . . Thanks,” I mumble, ducking my head to hide the blush I know is covering my cheeks.
“Tony’s told me and Marco about you buying the shop.”
My stomach drops at this news, and my heart starts to pound.
“We hope you want us to stick around after everything is said and done.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Of course I want you two to stick around.”
“Good. We know not to talk about it with Antonio, though I don’t get why you’re keeping it from him.”
“Um . . .” I bite my lip, not wanting to explain my reasons for not telling Antonio.
I know that I need to tell him about buying the shop before things between us go any further.
“It’s your news to share, chiquita. We’ll keep our mouths closed.”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He pats my shoulder before turning away from me and getting back to work.
Grabbing a rag, I clean off a table and work on talking myself into telling Antonio tonight that I’m buying his parents’ business.
Chapter 9
COLD PIZZA
LIBBY
“Where did it go?” I look around the alley for the kitten, who is no longer anywhere to be found. I searched for it earlier, when Antonio showed up with the milk for it, but didn’t find it then, either.
“He’s probably hanging with all the other strays—wherever they hang out,” Antonio says from the back door of the pizzeria.
I glare at him over my shoulder, then start down the alley to see if I can spot the kitten hanging out around one of the other dumpsters.
“It’s cold, Libby. You don’t even have a coat on. Get your ass back in here.”
“I know it’s cold, Antonio. That’s why I’m trying to find the kitten. It’s a baby, and it’s freezing. It could die out here.”
“It’s not going to die.” He grabs my hand to prevent me from walking any farther down the dark alley. “We’ll leave the milk out for him. With any luck, it’ll get to it before the rats do.”
“Aren’t you just a ball of positivity?” I sigh.
He laughs as he wraps his arm around my shoulder to lead me back inside. I can’t exactly spend my night tracking down the kitten, so I reluctantly let him lead me back inside the shop.
“You can try to catch your kitten again tomorrow,” he tells me as he grabs the pizza he made for us to take to my place.
