Page 121 of Sugar & Shadows

“I live with a houseful of animals. This is just one of several steam cleaners I own,” he said.

I tackled the kitchen with Sabrina’s help—because no matter how much I begged, she wouldn’t sit and put her feet up—scrubbing, pulling out appliances, and cleaning out drawers and cabinets.

She worked with ruthless efficiency and without complaint. In fact, all I saw there was a desire to do something for me.

I’d been there for her in Burlington and the night after, and if I had to guess, this was her way of being there for me. She’d never say it out loud, but the realization caused warmth to spread through my chest.

“You know what every kid needs?” Logan shouted from the living room. “A pet.”

I snorted. I could barely take care of myself and had seven months to figure out a newborn. There was no way.

“Got a lead on a litter of kittens that may need homes.”

Sabrina’s face softened.

I dropped my rag and took a step toward her. “Wait,” I said. “You’re a cat person, aren’t you?”

She put a hand on her hip and donned that sassy look that did strange things to my insides. “All reasonable people are cat people, Gabriel.”

I gasped.

“I respect creatures that are independent and discerning,” she went on, buffing the stovetop. “Pets that do not require constant validation.”

“As opposed to dogs, who are friendly and loyal and actually happy to see their owners?”

She sighed. “I have no time for the emotionally needy. Go sniff someone’s butt. I’ve got shit to do.”

Logan broke into hysterical laughter in the living room, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Dogs like people,” I offered.

“They’re needy.” She rolled her eyes. “Just admit you’ve built an existence around your need to be liked.” She winked, taking some sting off the barb, but it still landed dead center.

“You sound exactly like a cat,” I snapped.

“I just have high standards,” she retorted. “Sorry you can’t relate.”

“Cats destroy things for fun. They scratch people and pee wherever they feel like it.”

She shrugged. “Relatable.”

I stepped even closer, and her sharp, floral scent washed over me. “Cats still need people,” I said softly.

“No they don’t.”

“See, that’s the thing.” I leaned even closer, our chests almost touching. “They pretend they don’t, but really, they need the love and affection of their families.”

Her eyes flashed. “You’re projecting.”

“Just admit it. You’re not as cold and mean as you pretend to be.” I raised an eyebrow.

She scowled. “And you’re not as perfect as everyone thinks you are.”

A sharp laugh worked its way out of me. “I’m the farthest thing from perfect. Look at this place. I have nothing to hide.”

We squared off, practically nose to nose. My fingers itched to touch her. My arms ached to be wrapped around her. My lips were desperate for another kiss. I was high on sleep deprivation and wild emotions, and this woman made me reckless.

“Ahem.”