Chapter 9
9
DORIE
I woke up to the sensation of tiny paws batting at my face. Groaning, I opened one eye to see Rick perched on my pillow, his tail flicking impatiently. “What do you want?” I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep. He meowed loudly, as if to say, Feed me, woman. I sighed and sat up. My head pounded as I swung my legs over the side of the bed.
Sundays were supposed to be my day off, but my body didn’t seem to care. My internal clock was set to bakery hours, and seven a.m. was practically sleeping in for me. Still, I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. My mouth was dry, my head throbbed, and I wanted to crawl back in bed and sleep for another twelve hours. Rick wound his body around my legs as I walked.
“There is food in your bowl,” I muttered. “Why do you insist on waking me up? I don’t wake your ass up and you sleep all day.”
I shuffled into the kitchen, dragging my feet like a zombie, and reached for the coffeemaker. It was ancient—a relic from my college days—but it had never failed me. I filled the reservoir with water, scooped the grounds into the filter, and pressed the button. Nothing happened. I blinked at it, pressing again, harder this time. Still nothing.
“Oh, come on,” I muttered, jabbing at the button repeatedly like it owed me money. I unplugged it and plugged it back in, giving it one last hopeful press. Silence. Not even a sputter or a whir.
I groaned, leaning against the counter and glaring at the machine as if sheer willpower could resurrect it. Rick meowed again from his perch on the kitchen table, watching me with what I could only describe as feline smugness.
“This is your fault,” I told him. “If you hadn’t woken me up, I wouldn’t have discovered this travesty.”
He blinked slowly at me, unimpressed.
“I’m not getting through this day without coffee,” I muttered. “I’ll end up in prison.”
I went to the fridge, hoping there was a can of Coke. I needed to go to the grocery store, but there had to be some kind of caffeine in the house.
Nothing.
“Come on,” I muttered.
This was my luck.
“Ugh, why did I have so much wine last night?”
I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to will the throbbing away. It wasn’t like me. I didn’t even like wine like that. But no, I had to keep sipping, keep laughing, keep pretending like I wasn’t hyper-aware of the way he was looking at me. Stupid. So stupid.
I grabbed a glass of water, chugging it in an attempt to quell the dryness in my throat, but it did nothing for the storm raging in my head.
Rick stared at me from the table, his tail swishing back and forth like he was judging every poor life choice I’d made in the last twenty-four hours. “Don’t look at me like that,” I scolded. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see how easy it was to just… let go. Just for a little while. It’s not my fault he’s handsome and I’m a woman that can appreciate a fine male specimen.”
He continued to stare at me.
“You’re not supposed to be on the table anyway,” I said. “Bad kitty.”
He couldn’t give a shit. I had figured out the hierarchy of our relationship pretty early on. He was the boss. I was the bitch that fed him in a timely matter and made sure his litter box was cleaned. I was the provider of the treats, and if I was lucky, he was the provider of the cuddles.
Only if I was lucky.
And only if he was in the mood.
“I’m going to get coffee,” I told him. “Don’t judge me. People go out to get coffee in their pajamas all the time.”
I grabbed my purse, rummaging through it for my keys, only to come up empty. My stomach dropped as the events of last night came rushing back. The wine. The mansion. Kaisen. I’d left my car—and my keys—with him.
“What have I done?” I muttered, dragging a hand over my face.
I remembered the wine but forgot the consequences of the wine. As in—no car. No car and no coffee.
This day was not going well. I needed my car. Rather, I needed coffee which meant the car was a necessity. Obviously, I could just walk. But that meant I had to get dressed and look presentable. And I honestly didn’t know if I had the energy to walk anywhere. Not until after some caffeine.
“Where’s my phone?” I asked myself.
I tried to remember what I did with it. I needed to call Kaisen and ask him to please bring my car. I didn’t care that I had to see him. There was only one priority right now. The last place I had my phone was in bed.
I searched through the tangled mess of blankets, finally finding my phone buried deep in the covers. The screen lit up with a notification. To my surprise, it was a text from Kaisen. He’d asked for my address an hour ago. Of course he was an early riser too. I groaned again, typing out my address and hitting send before flopping back onto the bed.
I lay there for a minute, telling myself I should at least brush my teeth before he showed up. Maybe brush my hair. Get dressed. I closed my eyes just for a second. Next thing I knew, there was a knock at the door.
“Oh shit.”
I looked at the clock. I had fallen back asleep. It’d been twenty minutes. I jumped out of bed and tried to make myself look somewhat human, but I was still makeup free and wearing pajama shorts and an old tank top. Not exactly my best look.
“Just a second!”
I ran into the bathroom and squeezed some toothpaste on my tongue, wincing and gagging. I scooped water in my mouth, swished and spit.
That was the best I could do.
I opened the door to find Kaisen standing there, looking annoyingly put together in a fitted sweater and dark jeans. His gaze swept over me, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. I felt a flush creep up my neck. Was he judging me? Or was that something else?
“You okay?” he asked, his tone teasing. “I’ve never seen anyone get that tipsy on two glasses of wine.”
I opened my mouth to fire back a retort, but before I could say anything, Rick darted out from his perch on top of the table and wound himself around Kaisen’s legs. Kaisen jumped, startled, which only made Rick hiss and puff up like a little white and silver cloud.
“Rick, be nice,” I warned.
“Rick?” Kaisen asked.
“The cat.”
“You named your cat Rick?”
“I didn’t. He came with the name. I got him from a shelter two years ago. He doesn’t like men. He has made it his mission to stalk and harass any men who come within fifty feet of me.”
“Nice. Your version of a guard dog. Maybe you should get him a spiked collar.”
I sighed, too caffeine-deprived to deal with this. “Thanks for dropping off my car,” I said, turning toward my room to get dressed. “The same morning my coffeemaker dies I don’t have my car. The morning I need coffee, and I can’t get it.”
“Broken coffeemaker, huh?” Kaisen called after me.
I paused, glancing over my shoulder. “Yeah. It’s been a morning.”
He walked into the living room, still eyeing Rick warily. “I was just heading into town to pick up some groceries for the mansion. I can take you to get coffee.”
It wasn’t a question. More like a command. I raised an eyebrow. “Are you used to getting your way all the time?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation, his lips curving into a smirk. “Now go get dressed. As much as I love what those shorts are doing, it’s cold. Put some pants on. I would hate for you to get sick before the wedding.”
I scowled at him, but my cheeks burned. No one had ever commented on my body like that before. It left me flustered. I retreated to my room, wiggling into a pair of jeans and pulling on a sweater. Then I brushed my teeth for real, washed my face, and rubbed on some of my tinted moisturizer. As usual, my hair was pulled up into a bun. It was my default hairstyle.
When I emerged, Kaisen was still standing in the kitchen, squaring off with Rick, who looked like he was ready to launch himself at any moment.
“Stop messing with my cat, please,” I said. “I don’t want you to sue me because my cat kicks your ass.”
“He started it,” Kaisen shot back, glaring at Rick.
“I told you he doesn’t like men.”
“Because you named him Rick,” Kaisen retorted. “That’s not a cat name.”
“Does it matter?” I asked and snatched my keys from where he’d left them on the counter. “I’m not sure he actually knows his name. He meows. He might think his name is Cat for all I know.”
He smirked. “You’re grumpy in the morning.”
I scowled at him. “I’m not grumpy. I’m coffee deprived.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “First time I met you, you had that same scowl on your face.”
“Because you had just steamrolled me! Who wouldn’t be a little pissed about getting hit by two-hundred pounds of muscle at a running speed!”
His smirk told me he took my comment as a compliment. This was why I was not fit for conversation with a human at the moment. I needed a fucking coffee.
I brushed past him, heading for the door, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm. “I’ll drive,” he said. “The amount of check engine lights on your dashboard is concerning. I wasn’t about to get in that death trap.”
“Where is my car?”
“My place. I drove my rental.”
I rolled my eyes. “My car is just fine.”
“You do know those lights aren’t supposed to be on?”
I was so not in the mood for him. “I need to get my oil changed. And the other one is always on. It’s not a big deal.”
“Be that as it may, I drove here. We’ll get you some coffee and you can show me where a grocery store is. Then you can pick up your car.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the thought of coffee won out. “Fine,” I muttered.
We climbed into the car, and I found myself at Kaisen Seely’s mercy in the name of caffeine. He drove with the kind of confidence that came from being used to getting his way, his hands resting lightly on the wheel as he navigated the quiet streets of Cape May. Other people were still in bed on Saturday morning. I stared out the window, trying to ignore the way his presence seemed to fill the car. He was just so manly. So alpha. Of course he had to be attractive. I hated that it was so effortless for him. I was hanging on by a thread and he was all calm, cool, and sexy.
It wasn’t fair.