Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Kenny
I stood there for a stupidly long time.
Had Elizabeth Malcom, the first woman who’d elicited something in me in a decade plus and who I’d wanted for years, just kissed me?
Astoundingly, yes.
And had I just… sat there?
Like an idiot?
Like a complete and utter fool who had never been kissed instead of a man who would happily devour her?
Also, heartbreakingly, yes.
I paced back and forth in front of her door, debating calling her and begging her to let me come up and at least tell her with words that her kiss wasn’t misplaced.
Regret and fear flashed through me at the thought she might never do it again. She really might not. She didn’t strike me as the kind of woman to do something rash in the first place, and if she did and it didn’t go her way, she wasn’t likely to make the same mistake again.
Had that been my one and only shot with her, and I’d just tossed a grenade on it with my hesitation and disbelief?
I groaned, scrubbing my hands over my face and pleading with the stars for an answer. I’d loved every minute of tonight—well, maybe with the exception of her hurting to start it. But I wanted to support someone like this, to distract them a little and then speak gently to them. That’s what a partnership was, wasn’t it?
But this wasn’t a partnership. We weren’t dating or together or doing anything… Especially not if you don’t kiss her back, idiot!
And there was the very valid point that this was all temporary. She’d leave and I’d be here, so avoiding all physical contact was probably smart. It was where I’d started with this and probably where I should end with it, too.
But… I’d never wanted to follow my own advice less.
The urge to laugh hysterically or maybe cry hysterically snuck up like fingers walking up my spine, one after another, a little more pressure mounting as my mind whirled around what’d just happened and how exquisitely I’d just bungled the moment.
A tiny squeak broke through my self-loathing. I glanced around, searching for the source of the sound. Nothing obvious that I could see, so I stopped pacing and held my breath.
Meow.
My gaze darted toward a small pile of detritus near the trunk of one of the trees a few feet away. Had I actually heard something, or was my brain calling to mind all the things I wanted but couldn’t have in this perfect moment?
Meow .
My pulse quickened, and I moved instantly to the pile, startled by a tiny feline face coming into view amidst the random pile of stuff.
Death by cuteness. Was that possible?
Through the handle of a plastic bag, two yellow or maybe green eyes peered back at me. It was hard to see in the darkness.
“Well, hi there, little friend,” I said, bending slowly so I wouldn’t frighten it. The temps were below freezing, and it had to be dangerously cold. The ears pointed out in dark triangles and the head was covered with what seemed like a dusky gray color of fur.
“Meow.”
“Are you lost?” I slowly reached out a hand, not wanting it to bolt. The poor thing wriggled, but then I saw how the handle of the baggy had been looped at least twice around its little neck. “Ouch. Let me get that off there.”
Slipping my glove off, I held out a finger, and the cat sniffed my skin for a minute before I inched the plastic over his head. It had definitely gotten stuck in this tangle and my heart squeezed at the thought of him being here all day twisted up like this, too tiny a voice to be heard over the normal din of business and cars and people.
In another few seconds, I got him unwrapped completely and expected him to scamper off, but he stayed put and gave another pitiful little meow.
“Not feeling too good, huh? Let me see if I can get you to a doctor.”
I dialed Tristan, whose alarmed answer would’ve made me chuckle if I didn’t have an agenda. Once I explained the situation, he gave me his vet’s emergency number, and I thanked him. Normally, I would’ve called Beast for all things cat-dad related, but I didn’t want to give him anything to worry about. Despite appearances, knowing there was a freezing little kitten out here would absolutely send the giant of a man into anxious pacing until I could confirm he was okay, so I’d try to get that part of the equation solved before I notified him.
The vet said he could meet me in a half hour and since I was likely about seven minutes from the destination, I had to get this tiny guy out of the cold.
“Okay, please don’t hate me for moving you from what has become your safe place, but I don’t want you to freeze and you seem like you need some help. So I’m going to pick you up, and then we’re going to go get in my car. I’d really prefer it if you could not pee on me, but I won’t hold it against you this time if it happens.”
I scooped him up into my gloved hand and made an ugh sound when I saw just how tiny he was. His little head seemed to be almost as large as the rest of his body and he weighed maybe a pound and a half, if I had to guess. Maybe two, but not five or even three, certainly.
Tucking him close to my chest inside my jacket, I hustled to my truck and climbed in, doing my best not to jostle him. “You’re the tiniest guy I’ve ever seen. And you feel like a small collection of chicken bones in a little half-full beanbag, but we’ll get you fattened up, I hope.”
It wasn’t the safest thing I’d ever done, but after trying to set him down and having his spindly claws latch into not only my shirt but also my skin, I decided to keep him there with one hand and drive on over to the vet’s office with the other.
Along the way, I talked to him.
“I keep thinking you’re a boy, but I’m honestly not sure. I didn’t get a good look and suspect you wouldn’t be very happy with me if I tried right now, so we’ll let the vet tell us what’s what.”
He didn’t answer, nor did he stage a kitty revolt and climb me like a rope, so I kept going. “I’m hoping I didn’t just tear you away from family, but you need some help right now, either way. We’ll get the word out and see if we can find your family and if not…”
I trailed off and realized the truth of what I was about to say. “If not, you’ll come home with me and I’ll be your family.”
Call me a loon or a fool or even a hopeless romantic—whatever applied best. I wouldn’t deny any of those. And somehow, the idea that this little beast and I might be—dare I even think it?—meant to be.
It settled in my chest and nestled into my heart. I’d always suspected I’d know… and right now, I knew. This little guy and I were meant for each other.
Another tiny meow came as though in response.
“You like that idea? You and me sticking it out?” I focused on the road, resisting the urge to look away from the windshield and check on him. But soon enough, I pulled into the vet’s lot right as Dr. Monroe was getting out of his car.
“Thanks for meeting me,” I said, slipping out of the car and following him inside.
“Glad I was able to get here quickly. Looks like a tiny one.” He flipped on the lights of the lobby, then hallway, then exam room as he went. “Hold right here for another minute if you can and let me gather a few things. If he’s scared, he might try to run so I want to be ready.”
“Okay,” I agreed, fully acknowledging he knew far more about what to expect from this little creature than I did.
He returned with a stethoscope around his neck, a lab coat on, a towel, and a few other items he set aside. “Normally, I’d have a tech to help if needed, but I’m going to rely on you.”
His dark eyes settled on the little lump against my chest as he fitted his large hands into gloves. “Let’s get this kitten onto the towel and see how it goes. If it starts to jump on us, I’m going to grab it.”
Fortunately, the transition to the towel-topped table went smoothly once we got the claws hooked into the fabric of my shirt removed. I could feel the tremble in the little cat’s body, but he didn’t strike at us or even meow again. Dr. Monroe’s hands held him gently but firmly, and I took note of where and how since I hadn’t interacted with a kitten in years. Plus, I didn’t think Beast’s cat Bones had ever been this small.
“Congratulations, it’s a boy,” the doc said as he examined the cat’s belly and underside.
“I was right,” I said, a little impressed with myself and weirdly bursting with pride to have found this little guy and yet already dreading the possibility the congratulations didn’t belong to me—that I couldn’t keep him, be his cat dad. “He seemed like a boy.”
Dr. Monroe glanced at me, then continued his work, speaking softly in his rich voice to the little one, telling him how his legs looked strong, and his belly was very empty. After another minute or two, he set the cat back down but kept a hand on him.
“You’ve got a very skinny but not unhealthy kitten on your hands. He’s probably between eight and ten weeks old. If his mom’s around, he may not have weaned, but it doesn’t seem like he’s had anyone watching out for him in a few days at least, so I’m thinking maybe he’s been abandoned or lost. He’s likely a fully black cat under all the muck, so you’ll want to watch out for him, especially around Halloween. People take the lore seriously sometimes and it’s awful.” He frowned, stroking the kitten’s head gently.
I shuddered. How could someone hurt a black cat, let alone any animal? “People are the worst.”
Dr. Monroe chuckled. “Some can be. But you’re a good man and I think you’ll be a good cat dad to this fellow.”
Cat dad.
Me?
I smiled down at the little black face with what I could now definitively see were light green eyes and yeah. Yep. I’d known it the second I heard the first meow, and it solidified in me now like orders for a new mission.
It clicked. I just… knew.
I could absolutely be this little one’s cat dad.