Chapter 5
MAEVE
“I love orange cats!” Taylor exclaims. “They’re so unique!”
I grin in reply. “Yeah, there’s a theory they all share one braincell,” I laugh. “But I’m not sure about that. I think maybe these guys have three between them.”
Coral, Ginger, and Pumpkin have all needed good homes for a while, now.
I made a video about the three of them that went viral—three rare orange girls and all their shenanigans. Instead of being a bonded pair, they’re bonded triplets.
We had five million views on the video and more than two hundred applicants to take the three of them home in less than a week.
Now, after narrowing the candidates down and a few interviews, the cats officially have their new mom, who stands in front of me with orange hair that matches the fur on her newest family members.
“They do,” Taylor laughs, holding Coral in her arms. The cat nuzzles into her grey sweater, closing her amber eyes in bliss.
“I can’t believe I get to take these cuties home.
Thank you so much for choosing me,” she says softly.
“Your organization does great work, and my house has been so empty without my Butter and Noodle. I think I saw the video at the right time.”
I beam. “That’s the goal with the posts. We try to find people that care about the cats as much as we do.”
“You’re a great advocate for them,” Taylor says kindly.
I shrug. “Piper and Blair are the women that run this. I’m just happy to be along for the ride.”
My friends are nowhere to be found yet. They don’t work for another half hour, and I came in early specifically to meet with Taylor and say goodbye to the girls personally.
Piper and Blair spent all day with them yesterday, and I’m sure a few tears were shed.
I try to hold back my own while each orange feline hops into their carriers, sweeter and more well-behaved than I could have imagined.
Taylor is the perfect fit for them. But, if something ever happens, she’s agreed to contact us immediately and we will take the girls back.
We always make sure any cat adopted from the rescue will have a roof over their head, either in this building or by a willing foster.
I think I do a decent job of hiding my blurry eyes while I pet Pumpkin and Ginger one last time, telling myself this isn’t a goodbye, just a see you later.
Taylor is willing to share videos of the girls with us so that we can post them to our social media accounts and give our followers an update.
“Aww, are you okay?” Taylor asks, and I shake my head and chuckle.
“Of course,” I say, even as tears stream down my face. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Soon, Taylor is crying too, each of us laughing awkwardly and wiping at our faces.
“It’s always hard to say goodbye to a cat,” she croaks.
“It is,” I sniffle. “But it’s tears of joy and grief, you know?”
It’s a bittersweet feeling in my chest. I’m thrilled that Pumpkin, Ginger, and Coral will have the lives they deserve, but there’s also an ache with the knowledge that I won’t be able to snuggle them anymore.
“Can you help me get them into my car?” Taylor sniffs.
I nod. “Of course. I don’t mind a couple more minutes with these three.”
Mari is in the building, so it will be fine for me to assist Taylor with transporting the cats to her car.
“I’m sorry about Butter and Noodle,” I say, recalling her words from earlier.
She sighs. “They were great kitties, and I was lucky to have them for so long. I just wish there was some type of pet owner support group I could have gone to. Sometimes other people just don’t get it. But cat parents? They understand.”
I nod, placing Coral’s carrier in the car, swallowing the lump in my throat.
I’m going to be a mess when Bean finally gets adopted, too.
“Do you have any pets?” Taylor asks, and I shake my head.
“I don’t. These cats are kind of all my pets, I guess. That’s why it’s so hard to see them go.”
Taylor quirks her lip, her green eyes fond. “You have a big heart. You’ll make a great cat mom.”
More tears fill my eyes, and I chuckle weakly. “Come on! I’ve already cried enough today.”
There’s a reason I don’t have any pets, but it’s not one I want to share with Taylor.
If I already panic this much at the rescue about the cats, how would I be with a pet of my own?
Would I be so terrified at every little cough and sneeze that I wouldn’t be able to leave my house?
Even Avery has asked me if I wanted a cat.
Of course I do. I want them all.
I would love to be a cat superhero and fly around the world and save all the strays and ferals.
But if I panicked this much about our office cat’s random squinty eye, how would I feel if that happened in the middle of the night at my apartment?
Would I be stuck doomscrolling the internet for worst-case-scenario answers or driving to an emergency animal hospital just to be told I’m being ridiculous?
I’m already embarrassed enough about what happened yesterday with Logan.
There’s a sinking, horrible realization that maybe I’ll never be able to own a cat.
Maybe I’ll just be stuck worrying about them, then saying goodbye when they leave.
The thought is sobering, and my smile is tight when Taylor hugs me and promises to give me an update on how Coral, Ginger, and Pumpkin acclimate to their new home.
I trudge back into the rescue; my eyes still blurry with tears as I open the front door.
Immediately, I’m assaulted by that tempting, infuriating scent.
A sweet, forbidden glass of oaky bourbon mixed with warm vanilla.
Logan stands at the reception desk, petting Alvin with one hand, holding an iced coffee in the other.
Today, he’s in a white button-up shirt and black slacks that fit him entirely too well. With a light brown belt and brown shoes, he looks even better than he did yesterday.
Alvin, unaware of my internal panic, nuzzles into Logan’s long fingers.
I scowl at the scene, irritated.
Why is he here? Why parade his delicious scent, long fingers, and iced coffee in my face?
But when he looks at me, my face softens.
He almost seems…nervous?
“Good morning,” he says, clearing his throat. “You’re here early.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say, butterflies making my stomach flip. “Our three ginger girls were adopted—I was saying goodbye to them.”
Subconsciously, I take a step toward him. He smells just as I remembered—delicious, spicy, and pure Alpha.
Despite the embarrassment from yesterday, I still long to be in his presence.
“Ivan told me about them,” he says gently. “You made a video about them, right? And people from all over the country wanted to adopt them?”
I smile proudly. “I did. Everyone wanted the cats. I’m going to miss them, though.” I wipe quickly at my eyes, hoping he doesn’t notice how misty they are. “Saying goodbye is always the hardest part. It’s the right thing to do, but a part of me wishes I could keep them forever.”
His eyes dart to my lips, then fall to the iced coffee in his hand. “I know the feeling,” he murmurs. “What you’re doing for the cats is nice. You’re…you’re very kind.”
His compliment and shyness endearing, and I’m starting to think maybe I didn’t ruin my chance with him after all.
“Thanks,” I chuckle, smiling wider at his bashfulness.
But he’s still staring at the coffee, almost frowning at it.
“everything okay?” I ask.
His mouth twists, and his eyes meet mine. They’re warm, swimming with emotion and vulnerability.
They’re lovely.
“I owe you an apology,” he says, his low voice soft. “I was rude.”
I nod. “You were,” I say, just as soft. “But I also was asking some silly questions.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not an excuse. I was still a jerk to you.” His mouth is formed into a thin line. “I was crass and dismissive.”
I quirk my lip and shrug. “I mean, you said it, not me.”
He opens and closes his mouth, looking unsure. “Um…”
“I’m messing with you,” I say lightly. “Apology accepted, I promise.”
Then, something wonderful happens.
Logan, with his razor-sharp jawline and handsome face, blushes.
It makes me like him even more.
“I also have a peace offering for you.” He holds out the iced coffee, his cheeks pink. “With hazelnut milk and a pump of cinnamon?”
My eyes widen as I take the cup from him. “Now, your apology is really accepted.” I take a giant sip of the coffee and close my eyes in bliss. “I totally forgot to stop by the café this morning, thank you,” I sigh.
My inner Omega purrs in delight. An apology along with a present?
She couldn’t be happier.
When I open my eyes, Logan is watching me, his eyes fixated on my mouth.
He swallows, and I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to say something.
“You’re welcome,” he croaks.
Oh. This attraction definitely isn’t one-sided.
Interesting.
I’m not sure what to do with that information yet, but I’ll file it away for when I’ve had more sleep and I’m not mourning the loss of three cute ginger cats.
“Are you a coffee guy?” I ask him, wanting to keep the conversation going. I’m sure he has to get back to the clinic, but I’ll try to keep him with me for small talk as long as possible.
“I prefer tea,” he says. “Chamomile. It’s my favorite.”
I freeze mid coffee-sip and my breath catches.
Now, it’s my turn to blush.
I’m well aware of my Omega scent. I perfume chamomile, which is ironically known to be calm and soothing.
And if that is Logan’s favorite flavor…
He holds eye contact this time, and I could swear I see a challenge in his eyes.
“Oh,” I squeak. “That’s nice.”
He nods, and I half expect a scent match to happen right here and now.
Where’s Ivan? Maybe if the three of us stand in a room together long enough…
I’m lost in the fantasy until Mari bursts in from the back room. “Doctor Ambrose!” she chirps. “Good morning!”
Logan Ambrose.
The name sends a rush of warmth through my veins.
It’s just as nice as Ivan Stone.
Logan gives Mari a polite smile and nod. “Good morning, Mari,” he says. “How are you?”
“I’m great. Oh! Maeve!” Mari says, giving me a scandalous smile. “I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?”