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“Just a splash of milk.”
She still wore her pajamas, peach silk bottoms and a short t-shirt that grazed the waist of her pants. Her short hair was tousled. He liked her in this carefree state, even if she was still frowning. Alanna was so effortlessly beautiful that it took his breath away.
He forced his upstairs brain to come back online. “Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”
She put in a fresh coffee filter and added the grounds. “My cat is a demon from hell.”
He chuckled. “No, seriously.”
“Do you see me laughing?” Alanna pointed to her stern face.
“It can’t be that bad.”
“Oh, it’s that bad,” she assured him as the coffee maker began to burble. “Worse. This cat has been sent from the underworld to torment me. She chewed my Prada ankle boots. They’re ruined.”
Sully didn’t know a thing about name-brand clothes but assumed the boots were expensive. In spite of spending multiple days in the house, he still hadn’t seen this mysterious cat. He was curious about what kind of creature could cause so much consternation.
“Can you call the cops on a cat?” Alanna asked. She patted her hair, frowned again, and combed through it with her fingers. “’Cause intentional property damage is a crime. So is harassment and emotional manipulation.”
“Sounds like she’s a pretty stubborn cat,” Sully said as the soothing scent of roasting coffee began to fill the house.
“So stubborn.”
“Willful even,” he added.
“Right!”
“That must be really difficult.” He gave her an innocent smile, and her eyes sharpened with understanding.
“What? She’s like me? Is that what you’re getting at?” Alanna put her hands on her hips, causing her shirt to lift. Her stomach was smooth, her skin pale as cream.
Sully forced his gaze to her eyes. “You may have a bit of a strong personality.”
“I’m not apologizing for that.”
“You shouldn’t,” he told her. “But you can’t fight fire with more fire. Be patient with this cat. Understanding. Appreciate who she is.”
“That’s what my mom says,” Alanna groaned. The coffee machine beeped. She pulled the pot from the machine and filled two mugs. After retrieving a container of half-and-half from the fridge, she splashed a bit in both mugs, then handed his down. The bright purple mug featured a shimmering hummingbird on one side.
“I’m not exactly a patient person,” Alanna admitted, and sipped from her mug, which shouted GOOD MORNING! above a cartoon of a smiling sun.
“Patience is a skill,” Sully said as he tightened a wire in the dishwasher, then fitted the face plate back on.
“And how do you learn patience?” She looked at him over the lip of her coffee mug.
“Practice.”
She laughed. “Wish me luck.”
On the third day, Sully was nearing the end of the handyman list. Today would have to be the day. He’d been consumed by Alanna since she first put that list in his hand. Okay, actually since she’d walked into The Rose and Thorn so many days ago. He wasn’t mediating. He was barely practicing his guitar. His sleep stats only proved that she was stealing his shuteye. Last night, Sully had made a decision. After he finished the last repair on the list, he would ask Alanna out. His heart thudded in his chest as he replaced the fan in the downstairs bathroom.
Being this near to her was a tantalizing torture. Her presence was a magnetic pull, and he couldn’t resist it for much longer. Even in the short conversations they’d had, he’d come to appreciate her wicked sense of humor and directness. Alanna was a daring, unapologetic woman, which he admired, but he also sensed a vulnerability beneath her boldness. She was hiding something from the world, possibly from herself, some hurt that hadn’t healed. A deep and primal part of him wanted to protect her from whatever that hurt was.
Today, Alanna seemed nervous, too. Her welcoming smile when he arrived didn’t reach her eyes. While he unscrewed the bathroom fan, she paced in the living room, tablet in hand, muttering under her breath as she scrolled through a document. Unlike the previous days, he didn’t feel her gaze lingering on him. She seemed entirely consumed with worry.
He wanted to erase the tension in her brow, lift whatever burden was weighing on her shoulders. But the best he could do was offer a distraction. He stuck his head out of the bathroom.
“What’s the one thing you’re better at than anyone else?” he asked.
