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“Baxter!” I call out in my frustration.
A low meow has my heart jumping up my throat. I call out his name again, louder this time, and his plaintive meow comes again.
My head spins as I locate where the noise come from, and I scramble up a final slight of stairs towards his crying. I take the remaining steps two at a time, hardly seeing where I’m going until finally I see him.
I let out a ragged sigh, my knees buckling so sink to the dirt covered floor. Baxter is safe and sound, weaving his thick little body around a set of rugged work boots.
“There you are,” I choke out. The panic leaves me in a rush and is immediately replaced with relief. Tears begin to gather in my eyes. My baby is safe and unharmed and I’ve never been more thankful for anything in my life.
Suddenly, a hand appears and holds itself out for Baxter to take a sniff. He looks at the hand, which is big enough to cover the cat’swhole face and then some, and noses at it before rubbing against it. Whoever this person is, he apparently passes Baxter’s petting requirements.
My eyes trail up from the hand, looking at the rugged jeans that stretch tight over a pair of massively muscled thighs. Even the man’s shirt is tight in some places, stretched over the bulging muscles of his arms as he bends down.
The breath in my lungs leaves in a woosh as I gasp to myself.
Intense, ocean-blue eyes meet mine. The look they give me is almost icy as they bore into me. If I was standing, I just know I’d probably step back and recoil from them. Unfortunately for me, I can’t even feel my legs right now, so all I can do is stare back.
“Is this yours?”
It takes me a minute to realize that this man Baxter’s taken a liking to is talking to me. The dark, velvety voice feels almost warm against my ears, totally at odds with the intense way he looks at me.
Say something, Birdie, I scold myself.
“I’m—erm—yes,” I stammer, forcing my eyes to meet his once more before I let my gaze fall back to my cat, who seems fully content to rub his fur all over the man’s shoes. “I don’t know how he got this far up.”
“Cats are tricky like that,” the man rumbles, reaching down and lifting Baxter into his arms. I watch in utter shock as the little weirdo not only lets himself get picked up, but starts purring in the man’s arms as well, the sound so loud it blends the construction noise almost perfectly. Snow has never liked strangers and once chased one of my neighbors down the hallway. But this man? This huge, intimidating construction worker? Baxter’s like putty in his arms.
Out of nowhere, a pang of jealousy makes my stomach swoop.
Why do I feel like this?
I swallow hard as I stare at those big, muscled arms, confused by my body’s reaction to the man. Something about him standing there with my cat, holding him safe to his chest, makes me feel jittery and strange.
“Something on my shirt?”
“Hm?” I look up to find the man’s eyes focused on mine.
“Or maybe you’re staring at your cat,” he chuckles. “I would be too if I’d almost lost him.”
Oh no … this might be more embarrassing than my chair. Getting caught staring at a big, rugged stranger? This day is just not my day.
“Yes,” I say hurriedly, my cheeks burning with heat. “I’m glad you found him. Thank you.”
“Of course,” he smirks down at me, as if he knows I’m staring at him as much as my cat.
Get a hold of yourself, Birdie, I snap at myself. Now is not the time to be getting starstruck by some random stranger, even if my cat likes him.
I need to get out of here. I need take my weird cat and my weird ass home and leave the nice man alone.
And yet, I can’t seem to move a muscle. I’m stuck here, kneeling, my legs unmoving. I’ve never been flustered like this before. This man, with his imposing height and consuming gave, has me transfixed. Even as the world keeps moving around us, it’s like we’re stuck in this moment together.
I can’t push back the nagging feeling that I might have just stumbled into a man I won’t be able to let go.
Chapter Two
Ethan
She’s here. Right in front of me.
