Gage shivered in his sleep. He needed a blanket, and I wasn’t above snooping around his house under the guise of retrieving one—snooping is a big part of my job description—so I sat up, stretched, and then walked to the master bedroom. I switched on the light. The room was tidy, but not obsessively so. His bed was massive, made of mahogany or similar dark wood, with a dark gray comforter and an orange-and-blue quilt folded at the foot of it. I hesitated in the doorway, drawn to riffle through his dresser and poke through the medicine cabinet in the master bathroom. But I wasn’t under a directive to do so for my job, and without that, I would be just as creepy as 4B if I snooped into my neighbor’s personal belongings.
I snatched the quilt off the foot of the bed, switched off the light, and felt my way back through the dark hallway. In the living room, I laid the quilt over Gage and touched his cheek, which was sandpapery with scruff. I wanted to give him that end-of-date kiss, but that would wake him, and then I was pretty sure neither of us would get any more sleep tonight. The fact that sleeping with him seemed like a foregone conclusion should worry me, but it only made me tingle all over, which happened to me most of the time when I was around him.
I thought again about leaving, but I didn’t have the physical energy to do it. Yes, it was a cop-out because I was used to and could easily handle physical duress. No, I was not going to examine my real motives in the middle of the night in Gage’s apartment.
I lay back down on the sofa and snuggled under the quilt. Mr. Whiskerbottom Fuzzypants pressed against my calves. I watched Gage taking deep, even breaths, then closed my eyes. I would worry about my poor choices tomorrow, or the day after that. Or maybe sometime next week. But definitely not tonight.
CHAPTER 13
GAGE
Iwoke to watery light from my living room window streaming over me. It was seven a.m., my neck ached, and my back was spasming. But Kat was still asleep on the sofa across from me, so yeah, it had been worth it to wake up and find her still there.
I knew from the weather forecast that there would be light snow on the sidewalks, making it too slippery to bike to work, so I’d be using the company’s car service. The upshot of that was I’d have time to make breakfast for my overnight guest. I sat up and pushed the quilt to the floor. The quilt from my bed, which meant she’d been awake at some point and placed it over me but had chosen not to return to her own apartment. That gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling that may or may not be okay in a fling.
To hell with it. I didn’t care. I would just enjoy it. And I was glad to see that if she’d poked around in my bedroom while I was asleep, she hadn’t been scared away by the boxes of condoms in my nightstand or the nasal antihistamine spray in my medicine cabinet.
I stumbled to the kitchen to start the coffeemaker and found Mr. Whiskerbottom Fuzzypants waiting patiently next to his food bowl. “I don’t know your morning feeding routine, buddy, but I guess it can’t hurt.”
Kat had left a plastic bag of his kibble on the counter. I sprinkled some food into his bowl, then reached into a cupboard to pull out a few liver-flavored cat crackers that I’d asked Florence to make for me. I piled the treats next to his bowl. He immediately abandoned his dry food to scarf down the treats.
“Remember, this is our little secret,” I told him. “Your mom doesn’t need to know I bribe you with these.”
With the coffee underway and my guest cat happy, I headed off to brush my teeth, shave, and shower. I was sad to do that last one alone when there was a beautiful woman in my apartment, but I reminded myself—and my body part that stood at attention just thinking about having her in the shower with me—that we were taking this fling slow and easy.
When I emerged from the bathroom, dressed for work in everything but my tie and suit coat, my mood sank. The sofa quilt was neatly folded and placed over the back of the sofa. The warm, sexy woman who’d been sleeping under it twenty minutes earlier was gone. A small chirrup from the kitchen caught my attention. I popped my head in to find Mr. Whiskerbottom Fuzzypants lapping up water from his bowl. He looked at me, chirruped again, and went back to drinking.
“Was that a message for me from your mom?” I asked. “Sadly, I don’t speak feline.” But happily, I knew Kat wouldn’t desert this guy, which meant she’d probably be back any minute.
A knock confirmed my hope. I pulled open the door to find her there, fresh and clean, her long hair still wet, her face adorned with light makeup. She was dressed in dark jeans and a white button-down shirt, with high-heeled boots and a pale gray blazer.
I glanced down at my own outfit, then back up at her. “Either we’re having a business breakfast, or…”
She frowned as she stepped inside, and I closed the door behind her. “I got called into work. More like summoned. Mr. Whiskerbottom Fuzzypants was eating, and I didn’t want to disturb him. I hope that’s okay.”
“You know it is,” I told her.
She widened her eyes. “I guess I do know that.” Then she frowned.
I had no idea how to read that.
“Anyway, I need to pack him up now because he gets a field trip to the office.” She called to him, and he trotted out of the kitchen with his tail straight up in the air. “We’re—”
Her phone dinged, interrupting her. She checked the message and frowned again. She quickly typed a message, then slipped the phone back into her blazer pocket. “Some bosses can’t take yes for an answer. That reminds me, I need to text Florence later to ask her where she got that cat blanket so I can stop on my way home to pick up a few more.”
“No need to bother Florence,” I said. “The pet store near my office carries them. If you give me your order, I’d be happy to swing by there on my way to work.”
She shook her head. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask. I offered.” I motioned for her to follow me to the kitchen. “Do you have time for breakfast? Or at least coffee? I have travel mugs.”
“Oh, my god, you’re too good to me.”
I grinned. “No, ma’am. Just living up to my code of chivalry.”
She stared at my lips, which brought all my body parts to attention again. “We should probably talk about last night.”
“Which part of last night?” I grinned, knowing damn well what she meant.
