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I knew the microphone wasn’t real, but Ford had definitely managed to make it look that way. It even folded out of the way for when Newt would be doing something like eating or drinking.
“Isaac, look!” Newt exclaimed, then he grabbed the helmet and brought it to me and began showing me all the features. I wiped at my eyes as I met Maddox’s gaze over Newt’s head.
“It’s amazing,” I said to Newt, though admittedly, it was hard to breathe with all the emotions that were clogging my throat. Newt ran back to Ford.
“Can I wear it now?” he asked.
“Of course,” Ford said with a smile. He seemed genuinely pleased that my brother loved the helmet as much as he did. He carefully began working the straps of Newt’s existing helmet loose. As he helped Newt put the new one on, I went to Maddox and just walked into him. I didn’t even wait for him to open his arms.
But he did anyway. He kept the kitten cuddled against one side of his broad chest and gave me the other as his free arm went around me.
“Thank you,” I whispered so only he could hear.
I felt his lips skim the top of my head.
“You’re welcome, baby.”
He held me until Newt came to show us both how the helmet looked on him. But it wasn’t until Maddox knelt down and began talking to my brother about how he was a real race car driver now that I made my decision and hoped like hell it wouldn’t come back to bite me in the ass.
Because there was just no way in hell Newt and I were going anywhere.
We’d have to leave at some point, but today wasn’t that day and I hoped like hell that day, whenever it was, was way off in the future.
Really way off.
Chapter Fifteen
Maddox
Okay, buddy, it’s way past your bedtime, I think,” I said softly as I stared at the small form curled against my chest. The kitten seemed to respond to my voice because it stretched a little and dug its nails into my shirt, all without opening its eyes. I ran one of my fingers over its little body. The kitten was smaller than all its littermates who’d already been adopted out, but Dallas had assured me the baby was strong. In addition to its size and general scrawny look, the kitten had been born with one of its back legs deformed and tucked up against its body. But it didn’t seem to slow the kitten down because he’d been following me all around the lower level of the house as I’d tried to figure out where to put the small box I’d found for his litter and the plastic containers acting as his temporary food and water dishes. I’d settled on putting the stuff in one of the lower-level bathrooms for the time being, since it wasn’t too far from the living room where I spent my evenings.
Snotrod had eaten quite a bit, then lumbered after me and crawled up my pant leg after I’d sat down in the armchair by the fire. He’d been asleep for hours now, and I’d found myself spending most of that time running my fingers up and down his back. The little rumbling sounds he made were oddly comforting, and I felt on the verge of falling asleep myself.
I still had no clue how I’d ended up agreeing to adopt the kitten.
Yes, you do.
I sighed because my inner voice was right.
Newt had talked me into it without even really talking me into it. After he’d gotten done hugging me and repeatedly thanking me for the “best present he’d ever gotten” I’d tried to hand him Snotrod back, but he’d told me I should take the kitten home with me so I wouldn’t be scared when he and Isaac weren’t around. He’d also said something about Snotrod not having a mommy and daddy but that I could take care of the orphan like Isaac took care of Newt. That was when he’d gone to his brother to hug him, and I hadn’t had the heart to turn down the suggestion.
In theory, I had no room in my life for a cat, but looking around the spacious, darkened living room, I realized I had more than enough room, both literally and figuratively. I was starting to think I had enough room for a lot of things that I’d never planned on before.
To say I’d been surprised to discover it was Ford Cornell who’d accepted my custom art request was a shock, to say the least. I had mixed feelings about the man, since he didn’t exactly come from a great family. Between his brother and the former sheriff, Curtis Tulley, who was Mrs. Cornell’s cousin, I had to wonder if Ford didn’t have some ulterior motive for what he’d done. But I couldn’t discount what Isaac had said–that Ford had tried to intervene when Jimmy had gone after him. The fact that Ford was sporting those bruises also had me wondering if he was less tormentor like his brother and more victim.
