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I rattled off my number and closed my message inbox. If she was going to ghost me again, so be it. She already knew so much about me, and I knew absolutely nothing about her.
My cell went off in my lap, and I leapt on it like a man who hadn’t gotten any since summer.
Rough living, Hauser.
I picked up on the second ring. “This is Clint.”
“Clint is a name for a sharpshooter in an old-time Western.”
Her voice was pure sex. The kind you couldn’t stop having until your skin was damp and your body was wrung out and you were so limp that even breathing was a chore.
All the blood inside me routed downward. Maybe it was better she hadn’t sent a picture.
“Clint?” Then a hint of tremulousness underneath the erotic veneer. A slice of vulnerability that was even more intoxicating than the seduction.
I cleared my throat. “I’m here. What’s your name?”
“Kitty Armor.”
“No way. Is that real?”
“It’s as real as I am.” She let out a half laugh. “We make a pair.”
“If you combine our names, it makes Clitty.”
Her laughter shot over the line in a gust of sound, making me smile in spite of my situation down south. “So you’re not a sharpshooter, you’re a wordsmith.”
“That’s one way of looking at it.”
“And a tech admin for Kitten Around. And a vet.”
“I donate vet services for Kitten Around for their vaccination and spaying and neutering clinics, but I don’t work there full-time. Mostly they’re an adoption center. The admin thing is just an occasional deal.”
“Where do you work full-time then?”
“Thorny Paw Clinic.”
A pause. “That’s Princess Goldenrod’s vet.”
My chest tightened uncomfortably. We were closer than either of us realized. It remained to be seen whether or not that was a good thing. “Dr. Thorn’s her vet? I’m assuming Princess is a she. Nice name, by the way.”
“Yes. He’s so kind. He sent her a birthday card with treats last month.”
The tightness grew worse as I gripped the phone. “Yet you didn’t want to see if he was interested in a playdate?”
“You’re hung up on those, aren’t you? I want my cat to have a friend. She needs one.”
“How about her mama? Could she use a friend?”
“I’m kind of short on those at the moment, so yeah, I guess so. Depending.”
“On what?”
“On…suitability. I have a lot of quirks.”
Who doesn’t?I wanted to reply.
But I was more interested in deciphering the emotion lacing her voice. “Why not just adopt another cat?”
