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Chapter 15
“He already loves you.” Aria nudged the skinny black cat toward Callie. “Love him back, and maybe you’ll soften up.”
Ignoring the cat, Callie sat gingerly on the sofa in the “Cat Lounge” of the “cat café” Aria had opened on Mariposa Street primarily as a place for people to adopt orphaned felines.
Sunset light streaked through the window. Two days had passed since Callie’s night with Jake—and the self-admission of her love for him—and she hadn’t been able to concentrate on any of her work. It was ridiculous. She was acting like a teenager with a crush instead of an almost-tenured professor.
“He doesn’t love me, and I don’t need softening up.” Callie eyed the cat suspiciously as he leapt onto the sofa beside her. Her nylons and skirts never emerged unscathed from her visits to Meow and Then. “What’s his name?”
“He doesn’t have one yet.” Aria bent to stroke the cat’s back. “We’ve been calling him Kit.”
“Kit the cat?”
Aria chuckled. “Lame, I know, but usually the cats either come to us with a name already or they kind of name themselves. Someone found this little guy hiding in an alley over in Rainwood. No collar, no record of him having gone missing.”
Kit prodded at Callie’s thigh with his knife-like little claws. Clearly, he had no respect for her textured tweed pencil skirt. With a grimace, she picked him up and set him on the floor.
The lounge door opened. Hunter Armstrong entered, looking every inch the corporate executive in a tailored Armani suit and tie, with his thick, glossy hair brushed away from his forehead. “Aria, have you seen my car keys? Callie, I didn’t know you were here. Nice to see you.”
“You too.” She nodded in greeting, unable to help her formal tone.
In truth, she had a lot of respect for Hunter and what he’d done, but she was extra protective of her sister after Aria had confessed she’d been in a toxic, potentially violent relationship before she’d returned to Bliss Cove. Though Callie knew Hunter was anything but toxic—she’d never seen a man so devoted to the woman he loved—their relationship had happened fast. Callie just hoped it hadn’t happenedtoofast.
Then again, she couldn’t be one to judge. She’d jumped into her own relationship with both feet. Now she might be in over her head.
“Here you go.” Aria took Hunter’s keys from the counter and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “Text me as soon as you have any new leads.”
“What’s going on?” Callie asked.
“I have a meeting with Studio Twenty-Five up in San Francisco.” Hunter slipped the keys into his pocket. “They specialize in historic architecture, so we’re talking about partnering with them for Mariposa Street.”
“That sounds like a great step forward.”
“I hope so.” He slanted his gaze to where a one-eyed cat with a fanged tooth emerged from underneath a chair. “They have a lot of ideas and knowledge.”
As Fang approached him, Hunter bent to pet the cat and murmured something in a low, deep voice. At the sight of her man coddling the old cat, Aria got all soft-eyed and dreamy-looking. Kind of like the way Callie felt watching Jake fire a roundhouse kick at a bad guy.
Giving Fang one last pat, Hunter stood and turned to kiss Aria again. “I’ll call you tonight. I love you.”
She smiled. Her eyes sparkled. “I love you, too. Drive safely.”
Hunter said goodbye to Callie and headed out the front door. As soon as the door closed, Callie glanced at her sister. “Looks like it’s going well with him.”
“It’s one of those things I could never have imagined.” Aria picked up Kit and set him pointedly back on the sofa beside Callie. “Sometimes the things you least expect are the things you need the most.”
“I am not adopting Kit.” Callie glowered at the cat, who glowered right back and unsheathed his little claws.
“Come on, he needs a home. He’s a lot like you, if you want the truth.”
“I don’t want the truth.”
“He’s a little standoffish and takes some time to warm up to people.” Aria nudged the cat closer. “But he’s really smart and has already established himself as one of the leaders. He’s like you in cat form.”
“I don’t want a cat in any form.” Callie suppressed a wave of discomfort over the cat’s penetrating stare. “I don’t need a cat. I don’t have time for a cat.”
Whiskers quivering, Kit turned his back on her. He swished his tail and leapt off the sofa onto a nearby chair.
“The Rescue House is unfortunately getting overcrowded again.” Aria glanced out the front window at the graffiti-streaked, boarded-up buildings on Mariposa Street. “Even with our increased foot traffic, I haven’t had a sudden influx of adoption applications.”
