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“You’re a little underdressed for the weather.”
“I’m just out of the shower. Damn cat is lucky I noticed it when I started the truck.”
“May I?” She moved past him and leaned toward the truck and shook the bag, all the while speaking softly to the kitten. Within seconds, literal seconds, the small fur ball appeared, meowing loudly, as it jumped up toward the bag, those sharp little claws extended like daggers. She scooped up the kitten and turned to Beck, her hands outstretched. The fur ball looked smaller than any kitten Beck had ever seen before. When he didn’t immediately take the little guy from her, she frowned.
“This belongs to you.”
“I don’t like cats.”
“Well, it was in your truck.”
“I don’t like cats,” he repeated.
Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t have a choice.”
She moved closer and held up the kitten, and Beck gave her the stink eye before he grabbed hold of it. Oil and dirt left marks on its orange face and back, but other than that, the animal seemed okay, though it was shivering something fierce. Beck held the kitten against his chest and pulled one half of his flannel shirt over it for warmth. It immediately began to purr, an odd sensation, but not exactly unpleasant.
“Can I have the key now?”
He looked at the woman and nodded toward his house. The sooner she got the key, the sooner she’d be out of his hair and he could deal with the cat. “I’ll grab it for you.” She followed him inside, and he held the kitten gingerly while rooting through the pile of paperwork on the kitchen table that, at the moment, doubled as his workstation. He found the envelope marked stone cottage and handed it over.
“You out here on your own?” he asked.
“How is that any of your business? A woman can’t rent a home on her own?” Her sharp tone got his attention. Another time and place, he might have wondered about it, but as it was, he had his own personal shit to deal with and had no desire to get involved with anyone else’s. Especially some prickly woman from the West Coast with a chip on her shoulder.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about your situation,” he replied. “I just wondered if you needed an extra key. I only have the one, but can get a spare made up for you.”
Her eyes slid from his. “I’m fine with the one.”
“Good. The cottage is just up the road,” he said as she took the key. “Technically, the next property over, but my place here is about ten acres, so it’s a bit of a hike.”
“Thanks.” She backed away.
“The heat and hot water aren’t on. I didn’t get a chance to get up there because—”
“I’m early. Trust me, I got that.”
“There’s a file on the kitchen island with all the instructions you need.”
She pointed to his chest. “I’m not sure who to feel sorry for.” She paused. “You or the cat.”
She closed the door, and Beck watched through the window as she slid into her shiny SUV and, moments later, drove away. He’d been a dick, no doubt about that, but then he’d probably never see her again, so what did it matter?
He groped for his cell phone, and Nate picked up on the first ring. “Two things,” he said before his brother could say hello.
“What’s that?”
“Your friend is early.”
“Sid?”
“That’s the one.”
“Good to know. What’s the other one?”
Beck looked down at the kitten tucked into his flannel, now fast asleep and purring like a machine. He should drop it at Molly’s animal shelter and let them deal with it, because he didn’t have time for a cat. Hell, he didn’t even like them.
Not really.
