8. Willa
Chapter 8
Willa
M ATTY AND I have a Sunday ritual: yoga at the downtown studio, then iced coffee from the shop across the street, then we walk along the pier. We’ve done it for years, and it’s pretty sacred at this point. The pelicans and seagulls swoop and dive around us, the pelicans hunting for actual fish and the seagulls looking for the chips and snacks the tourists are bound to drop. Off to one side of the pier, a line of beautiful sailboats and catamarans bounce and bob in the water, gleaming in the sunlight and waiting on their owners to take them out.
Then there’s me, griping about last night as Matty’s eyes get wider and wider. “So, to be clear: you asked him to kiss you, and then you told him...thanks?”
“Yep.”
“Sweetheart, I love you so much.” The patience in his voice is admirable. “But what in the world were you thinking?”
I take another sip of my iced coffee, letting the cool liquid slide down my throat before I speak. “You don’t understand. He was an asshole all through dinner, cooking this incredible meal, being all competent and thoughtful, and the way he’s so observant, Matty—it’s unnerving.”
“Well, he’s a cop, so —”
“And then he had the gall to look at me. Like, really look at me. As if he saw me.”
Matty snorts. “The nerve.”
“Exactly! The nerve.” But he doesn’t get it. “You don’t understand. You’re the only one who doesn’t give me hell on a daily basis to leave town.”
“Because you’re never leaving Lucky,” Matty says simply.
I swat at his arm. “See? You know! Now, pretend that you’ve gotten the kiss of your life by someone who hasn’t known you for a decade. Who has no experience of you as anyone other than the person they’re kissing. And it blows your mind. And then they look at you.”
He quirks a smile and looks at me, his brown eyes twinkling, but also soft with understanding. “And he really saw you, didn’t he?”
I gulp my coffee and nod. “And then yesterday? He was nowhere to be found. Usually, I have to do this whole hide-and-seek thing to not be seen by him, but yesterday? Nowhere. Was the kiss so bad that he went back to Miami?”
Matty pulls me into a side hug, his lean frame nothing like the solid wall of muscle I was wrapped in the other night, and gestures to the open bench facing the ocean. “Let’s sit.”
“I’m embarrassed and turned on and confused and I don’t ever want to see him again, and also I really, really want to kiss him again. A lot.” There’s no stopping the way I’m whining.
Matty nods. “I can help you out on yesterday, Willa. He was working his tail off. Pretty sure the residents of Lucky are still attempting to haze him.”
Confused, I narrow my eyes at Matty. “Haze him?”
He chuckles and finishes his coffee with a slurp before turning to toss it into the garbage can nearby. “Yep. More time here at the pier—and don’t freak out, he’s not here right now—and I’m pretty sure he had to power wash a block of sidewalk over on Sequoia, and then of course he was answering the phones at the station overnight.”
I consider all this. “Yeah, not helpful. I’m still feeling all the feelings.” Besides, he was probably grateful for all the work. Then he wouldn’t have to face me and what he probably thinks is a terrible kiss.
Matty straightens and shields his eyes. “Did you hear that?”
I listen. “Is something squeaking?” Following the direction of his attention, I catch sight of something black and fuzzy in the shadow of another bench. “Oh, no. Matty, don’t you dare get involved?—”
But he’s up and moving, the animal lover and vet in him roaring to the surface.
By the time I make it to him, he’s already crouched and softly clucking his tongue at the creature. In seconds, he’s unfurling himself from the ground, a tiny black kitten yowling plaintively in his large palms.
“Oh, Matty,” I breathe, immediately turning to goo at the sight of the poor thing. “Is it going to be okay?”
“Hard to tell, honestly,” he answers. “Come on.”
Our walk forgotten, we head to Matty’s car, and I hold the kitten as he drives us to his office. The little thing is panting and mewling, blinking blue-green eyes up at me as if I’ve wronged it by having the audacity to try to help save it. Which, truly, could not be more of a cat thing if it tried.
Matty takes the kitten from me before we even get out of the car. “Might be a broken leg,” he murmurs, holding the ball of fur in a way that ensures it’s as comfortable as possible.
I follow along, opening the office with the keys Matty hands me, and flipping on the lights as we go into one of the exam rooms.
Matty puts the kitten on the cold metal table and asks me to watch it, then leaves. He returns a few minutes later with a bunch of supplies that make my head swim: a bag of fluid, a razor, some gauze and tape, and other stuff I don’t recognize. After palpating the kitten’s leg gingerly, and the kitten protesting loudly about the unwanted attention, Matty nods and purses his lips. “It’s not fully broken, but it’s not great. I’m going to give it some fluids, something for the pain, and wrap it up. You want to stay and watch?”
I bolt without thinking twice. I don’t want to see the poor thing in pain, and it’s yowling loud enough that I’m fully aware of its displeasure, anyway.
Nearly an hour later, Matty and the kitten emerge, the floof blinking sleepily and its little back leg in a cast. My heart melts.
“Oh, the poor baby.”
Matty cradles it against his chest. “She’s going to be just fine. What she needs is some love and affection and she’ll be right as rain.” Then he looks at me. “Ready to go?”
I hold the little floof while Matty drives me home, petting its soft fuzz as we go.
By the time we get to my house, the kitten is asleep. Matty looks at me. “Guess the little girl is yours.”
I jerk my head up, my eyes wide. “What? No way.”
But he’s already out of the car, deliberately ignoring my protests as he rounds the vehicle and opens my door. “Look how perfect she is with you.”
“It’s a girl?”
Matty nods. “Probably about ten weeks old. Which is good. She can eat regular food and everything.”
I climb out of the car. "Yeah, no way, Matty. I can’t take care of a kitten. Take it with you. Add it to your menagerie.” I follow him around Agatha’s house, still holding the floof like the precious cargo it is, and continue protesting. “You know what my hours are like. It’s not fair to leave a little kitten alone for that long.”
Matty gives me a look. “Willa. It’s a kitten . ”
“Exactly!”
He sighs and takes the ball of fur from me. “Kittens become cats. Cats don’t need much. It’s the perfect animal for you. She’s perfect.” His tone shifts a little, but I don’t bother trying to figure out why.
“You can’t make me. Besides, doesn’t it need, I don’t know, pain killers?” I sound like a petulant toddler, but I can’t find it within myself to care.
“ She does, but it’s not hard to give them to her. Why don’t you get Reid to help?”
I gape at him. “Why would I do that?”
“Help with what?”
I whirl around, and standing behind me is none other than Reid MacKinnon.
I squeak. SQUEAK . The kitten doesn’t react.
Can I please, for just once in my life, be normal around him? For God’s sake, he’s had his tongue in my mouth.
Speaking of mouths, his quirks up knowingly. “Hi, Willa Dean.”
“Just Willa,” I mumble.
His smile broadens. “Hi, Just Willa.”
Matty watches the entire exchange with far more interest than a man in his late twenties should. “I was suggesting that maybe you’d help Willa take care of her new kitten.”
“I didn’t say I was keeping her!” I stomp my foot in emphasis.
Reid nods at the fuzzy bundle of fur in Matty’s arms. “Is this our culprit?”
Matty steps closer to Reid. I wonder what it’s like to behave like a totally normal person and be able to stand beside a smoking hot man and not internally combust?
Because I sure as hell do not know.
Reid’s hand rises to pet the kitten, and all I can do is stare. The kitten’s eyes close as she begins to purr loudly, the sound rivaling a Harley Davidson, and the jealousy that flies through me at her pleasure is wholly unreasonable.
Reid chuckles. “She’s a cute little thing.”
“So it’s settled then!” Matty releases her into Reid’s hands. “I’ll be right back with your supplies.”
I watch him retreat before finally swinging my gaze to Reid’s. “He’s...pushy.”
The kitten snuggles into Reid’s chest and blinks at me, satisfied as hell.
Yeah, well, must be nice…
Matty returns with everything needed to take care of a kitten: wet and dry food, bowls, litter, and a litter box, along with a bottle of tiny pills for her leg. “Here we go!” he declares cheerily. “Sure is lucky that I keep these things in my trunk. I’m sure you two can determine the best way to co-parent this little baby.”
“Co-parent?” I choke the word out. “What?”
But Matty’s already backing away with a shit-eating grin on his face. I’m going to kill him. “It’ll be great. And listen, if you two really can’t figure it out—but you’re both grown adults, so I’m sure you will—then I’ll find another home for the sweet, helpless kitten who was wandering around the pier, hurt and about to die. It’s fine.”
I growl. “Is this how you do it?”
Matty holds his hand up to his ear. “Sorry, can’t hear you. Gotta go. Bye!”
And with that, he’s out. Skedaddled like a coward after dropping a live animal into my care.
Well. Scratch that. Into our care. In fact, not our care—Reid’s care.
Before I can think too hard about it, I flee inside my house and slam the door.
There.
I’m like an ostrich. If I can’t see him and the kitten, then they’re not my problem .
A knock sounds at the door. “Willa.”
“Willa’s not here!” I call.
A low rumble of a laugh comes from outside, and it does things to my lower belly that it shouldn’t. “Pretty sure she is.”
“Nope!”
“Well, I have a little midnight-black kitten here that is rather desperate for some attention.”
I huff. That kitten is already living a better life with Reid than I ever will. Screw that creature.
Honestly.
“You’ll do great with her, Reid,” I call.
“ We’ll do great with her,” he corrects. “Because all I did was wander over here to see what the commotion was.”
“That’s what you get for being nosy,” I chide. “Maybe you’ll learn your lesson.”
“Willa.”
“Reid.”
“I can see you through the curtains, you know.”
“You mean the kitchen curtains, where you leer at me like some pervert when all I want to do is get the diner smell off me? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be the walking embodiment of beef and cheese?”
He snorts a laugh. “Did you just reference Elf ?”
“Best holiday movie there is,” I state.
“Untrue. Great movie, but not the best.”
“Don’t come at me with your lies, Reid. Elf is the best, and I won’t hear otherwise.”
“It’s Die Hard .”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you’d think that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a cop, Reid. Isn’t it your sacred duty to think Die Hard is the better holiday movie—despite literally nothing happening in it that’s holiday-related other than it happens to take place during the holidays? I mean, listen, Alan Rickman is the superior villain, don’t get me wrong, but that is no more a holiday movie than the sun is blue.”
A beat passes. “We’re getting off track.”
“I really shouldn’t be trusted with a kitten. I can’t even be trusted with a conversation.”
Another soft snicker comes from Reid’s side of the door. “How about…Willa, seriously. Will you open the damn door?”
“Fine.” I fling it open and nearly lose my breath. Because he’s standing there, all Hottie McHotFace bit of him, with a tiny baby kitten cradled in his arms, and it hits a deep part of me I do not want to think about.
He smiles. “Thank you.”
I cross my arms. “You’re not welcome.”
His gaze flits down to my breasts before meeting my eyes again. And honestly, I should be all righteous about it and demand he keep his ogling to himself, but apparently my feminism has packed its bags because I could not be happier about him looking at my tits.
I might push my shoulders back a little.
Might.
I’m neither confirming nor denying.
“Tell you what,” Reid says. “Let’s do what Matty said.”
“Co-parent?” I squeak, then wince. Christ on a cracker with the freaking squeaks.
He grimaces, and even that looks attractive on him. “Co-parent is a strong word. How about we simply both take care of the little girl until we can sort something else out?”
“And how do you propose we…share responsibility?”
“I’ll take care of her when you’re working, and you’ll take care of her the rest of the time.”
I sniff. “Doesn’t sound like it’s very fifty-fifty.”
Reid fights a smile. “Good thing it’s not a real kid we’re worried about.”
“Ugh, fine .” I stomp past him and grab all the supplies that Matty left unceremoniously on the ground in front of my cottage and bring them inside. Then I return and hold my hands out for the kitten.
Reid hesitates. “Are we going to talk about —”
“Kitten,” I cut him off.
He nods, then gingerly hands the fuzzball to me with a sigh.
I nestle her in one arm, refusing to think about how she was just in Reid’s arms and now she’s in mine and so it’s sort of like we just hugged but not really, and retreat into my house. “Good night, Reid.”
He quirks a smile. “It’s four in the afternoon.”
I shut the door in his face.
“I’ll be sure to be inside for your daily porch-sitting session!” he calls brightly.
The kitten issues a loud yowl.
I hang my head. I am, officially, an idiot.