Chapter 5
Five
Finn
“Do I want to know?”
I bite back a giggle, whisper, “Chloe picked it out for him.”
Chrissy grins. “Man’s a softie for his girl.”
The shirt Rhodes is wearing is Pink—and that’s with a capital P. It’s so bright it’s almost eye-watering and it clashes with…
Well, with all of Rhodes.
He’s still rocking it though, has been from the moment that Chloe brought it home from preschool this afternoon, the pink decorated with streaks of multicolored glitter paint.
I nudge her shoulder with mine. “Kind of like someone else I know.”
She glances over at her husband, Rome, and her smile softens. “Yeah, I do know.”
Chloe sinks onto the ground, dragging Rhodes down beside her and I can’t help but feel my face go soft too. Because the way he looks at his daughter, the gentle way he shows her how to stroke the kittens…
There’s a piece of me that wishes I could have had that too.
A parent who looked at me like I hung the moon, who made me feel like I was part of the family, not just a burden to be shouldered. A person who was valued and part of the decision-making process, and…
Who was never made to feel as though I wasn’t enough.
My parents—mentally, I shake my head—they couldn’t give me that, can’t be that.
But maybe I can have a man who—
No.
I cut that thought off before it can fully form. Down that road lies only danger.
“How’s that going?” Chrissy asks.
I tear my eyes away from the pair.
“It’s going well. Thanks again for being my reference,” I tell her and when she waves me off, I keep talking. “Chloe’s a gem and Rhodes—as you know—is a good guy.”
When Chrissy heard I did nanny work in my spare time, she’d taken it upon herself to make some connections—and now I’ve had a kickass job for almost a month with an adorable little girl, a nice dad, and plenty of time to work on my blankets and finalize my travel plans.
“Are you going to stay on permanently?”
My heart kicks hard, but I shake my head. “Just through the season. I’m saving up for my trip, remember?”
“Your tour around the world. That’s going to be a blast.” She smiles but there’s something in her eyes I can’t quite read—worry or sadness or maybe it’s just that she’s running an event with lots of moving parts.
Case in point? Her head jerks to the side, her smile growing.
“Oh, I’d better go rescue that little troublemaker. ”
I grin, watching as she hurries over to a cat tower (and the toddler who’s attempted to scale it…and gotten stuck) then move across the room, sitting down beside Chloe and Rhodes.
“Uncle King said he likes my daddy’s shirt,” she announces.
I straighten her braid, fighting a laugh. I’d met Kingston Bang, and I’d bet my life savings that him liking it is going to come with lots of teasing the next time the guys get together. “Well, you did a great job decorating it.”
“Uncle Huddy says I should put more glitter on it next time.”
I chuckle. “More glitter is never a bad thing.”
Rhodes sighs, shakes his head, but he doesn’t otherwise comment as a senior cat crawls into his lap and starts purring. He shifts to make her more comfortable then lightly strokes a hand down her back.
And there goes my heart again.
Tearing my eyes away from him, I supervise Chloe as she scratches a juvenile cat. She’s doing a great job of being gentle. But that’s not a surprise—she’s a great kid.
And had a great teacher.
The adoption event is busy, and there are people everywhere—teens scratching sleepy tabbies, kids trying to coax shy older cats from beneath chairs, parents wrangling toddlers who want to grab tails and ears.
It’s chaos central.
Feather toys flying, balls with bells ringing, meows all around.
And we’re sitting plunk dab in the middle of it.
“Look, Daddy!” Chloe points to a pair of kittens who are scaling a cat tower like it’s their job. “They’re funny.”
“And busy,” I say dryly.
Rhodes slants a look in my direction before gently dislodging the cat in his lap and following Chloe when she walks over to the tower.
The kittens’ tiny bodies move with graceful chaos, dashing down the tower, careening across the floor.
They scale the side of a couch then leap onto a shelf mounted to the wall, claws clinging like they’re about to reenact The Lion King.
Chloe giggles.
Rhodes bends and scoops up the senior cat he’d been holding. “Look at this kitty, Chloe. She’s a sweetheart.”
Chloe scratches the cat behind her ears, but her attention is on the pair of crazy kittens.
And I so know where this is going.
Rhodes does too if his quiet sigh is any indication.
I stifle a laugh as I make my way over, crouch down beside her. “Why don’t you sit on the couch? That way, if one comes over you can say hi nicely.”
She does exactly that, plopping down and holding very, very still.
It takes approximately two seconds.
Then one of the kittens jumps down from the shelf and onto the cushion next to her. Two seconds later, it toddles into her lap and, miracle of miracles (or more likely, it senses that this is likely a chance at forever), the kitten curls up and closes its eyes.
“Daddy,” Chloe whispers, as if speaking too loudly will shatter the moment. “Daddy, look.”
He does…and so do I.
But I’m not looking at the kitten.
I’m looking at Rhodes.
I watch as his whole face melts.
And I feel that in my soul.
He kneels beside Chloe and strokes one finger down the kitten’s back. “Hey there, pretty kitty.”
The other kitten jumps down and squeezes its way onto Chloe’s lap.
It’s peaceful and adorable…until a third mischief-maker decides that Rhodes’s back is an excellent substitute for a cat tree.
He lets out a startled curse.
I bite my lip to keep in my laughter. “Need some help?”
He looks up at me, one eyebrow lifting, but his mouth is tipped up on the edges. “This is amusing?”
“I mean…a big, tough hockey player felled by a kitten?” I tease, bending to unlatch the little troublemaker’s claws. “Kind of.”
Chloe’s gaze bounces between the two kittens, each clearly the love of her life. “Can we keep them?”
“Them?” Rhodes huffs out a laugh. “Absolutely not.”
“How many, then?”
“We can get one kitten, baby.”
She frowns but doesn’t get a chance to reply because Chrissy comes around the corner then, her face lighting up. “Oh, the sisters found you,” she says, moving close enough to scratch behind their little ears. “Those two are bonded.”
Chloe’s brow furrows. “What does bonded mean?”
“It means they really love each other,” Chrissy tells her. “And that they’d be sad if they had to be apart.”
“Oh,” Chloe whispers. She studies them with immense seriousness. “But my dad said we can only get one kitten.”
“That’s okay, baby,” Chrissy says. “We have lots of kittens who need good homes.”
Chloe looks up at Rhodes.
And I watch the reality of the situation settle over him.
Because there’s no way we’re walking out of here without two kittens—specifically without these two kittens.
“Daddy,” she says softly, “I think they picked me.”
Rhodes closes his eyes, sighs.
I cuddle the kitten in my arms and just…wait.
“Daddy?”
He opens his eyes and I see it in his face—he’s outnumbered, outmaneuvered…and he knows it.
“Right.” He turns to Chrissy. “Tell me what I need to do.”
She grins. “I’ll grab the paperwork.”
By the time the forms are done, Chloe has already named the pair Olive and Pear.
Why those names?
I’m not entirely sure.
But she’s four, so that’s reason enough, I suppose.
The kittens are eight weeks old, and can go home tonight, so we corral them into carriers (Chloe chooses pink ones, of course) and I go into the storeroom to snag the supplies Chrissy provides every adoption—litter, food, bowls, beds, toys.
Basically, a kitten starter kit.
Then we’re heading out, Rhodes holding both carriers as Chloe skips along beside him. The sight of him is so absurdly sweet that my chest aches a little.
And freaking hot too, his muscles bulging, his aggrieved expression not doing much to hide the soft heart within, the way his jeans stretch tight over—
I freeze.
Where had that come from?
Before I can do more than shove the thought away, Chloe slips her hand into mine. “You think the kitties will like our house?”
I stroke back her hair. “I think they’ll love it.”
“Do you think they’ll sleep in my room?”
“Maybe.”
“Do you think Daddy will let them sleep in his room?”
I glance up.
Rhodes is holding the door open with his back, clearly listening even though he pretends not to be.
“I think,” I say carefully, “your dad might be too much of a softie to stop them.”
Chloe giggles.
Rhodes mutters, “I heard that.”
I smile and wink at him as I step out into the cool evening air. It’s a beautiful night, the stars gleaming overhead, the moon full and bright. Rhodes walks toward his SUV, the kitties protesting softly as he places them in the backseat and carefully buckles them in.
Chloe is still talking excitedly as she climbs into her car seat.
I reach over to buckle her in—
Then freeze again.
Because Rhodes is watching us.
No, he’s watching me.
And—
My pulse speeds, my throat goes tight, my heart…
It aches.
It desires.
It yearns.
For something I know I can never allow myself to have.