3. Gideon
GIDEON
When it came to women, my NHL career was both a blessing and a curse.
I never knew whether girls were interested in me or all of the “stuff” that came with me.
I was a guy whose ideal Saturday involved a well-worn armchair, a steaming mug of tea, and guessing the murderer in the book before the characters did.
I was convinced that if I worked a blue-collar job, most of the women in the NHL bubble wouldn’t give me a second glance.
Piper didn’t ask what I did for a living, and I extended that courtesy to her.
For once, it was nice to have a level of anonymity.
Now, in the light of day, I regretted that decision.
I wished I knew more about her. What made her tick?
Other than a very inappropriately named cat.
Was she married? Her ring finger was conspicuously bare, but it was late at night; a ring could be sitting next to her bathroom sink.
But what kind of husband would let his gorgeous wife traipse through the neighborhood alone at midnight?
Did she come from money? Was she self-made? What did she like to do in her spare time? What kind of books did she like to read?
Not everyone is as big of a nerd as you are , I whispered to myself.
The Porsche engine revved as I geared down to enter Rosewood Estates.
The Miami Barracuda and Coach Stephenson were top-notch.
I was in peak physical condition, and my slapshot was the fastest and hardest in the league.
The last thing I needed was to derail my life by getting involved with the cute blonde next door.
I pulled into the driveway, and while I waited for the garage door to open, existential questions whirred through my mind.
If my life was so perfect, why did it feel so empty?
I had everything I’d ever dreamed of as a kid.
Instead of heading inside my cold, empty house, I clicked the button to close the door and reversed out of the driveway.
When I started getting too philosophical, going for a drive always helped me get out of my own head.
The radio played Jimmy Buffett as I did a slow cruise down Thistle Lane, keeping my eyes open for a cat. The damn thing had likely been an alligator’s tasty appetizer, so I wasn’t exactly hopeful. As Jimmy waxed poetic about a cheeseburger, something flashed in my peripheral vision.
Tires squeaked on hot asphalt as I slammed on the brakes. I left the engine running as I got out to investigate. Dropping to my hands and knees, I peered under the bush.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Two yellow eyes stared back at me.
“Come here, kitty.” I tried to replicate the pshh pshh sound that Piper had made.
I couldn’t bring myself the say cat’s damn name out loud.
What kind of person names their cat… that.
It would be like having a pet rooster and naming him Cock.
For a tiny thing, it had lungs like Eddie Van Halen. How had we not heard it? The cat’s meow was more like a scream. “Come here, kitty cat.” I reached my hand under the bush, but the cat hissed and swiped at my hand. “Ouch,” I yelped. Blood pricked on the tip of my finger.
“Piper failed to mention that you’re a mini tiger.” I crouched on my heels and sucked at the cut. She also hadn’t mentioned that it was a kitten. “Come on, kitty. You can’t stay out here. Someone is missing you. You’ve got to come with me.”
Learning from my mistake, I shot my arm under the shrub and grabbed the cat in one lightning-fast motion.
The kitten was so tiny I could easily wrap my index finger and thumb around its entire body.
I pressed it to my chest and ran to the car.
With one hand, I opened my gym bag, pulled out a sweaty T-shirt, and wrapped it around the furry ball of claws.
It was challenging to drive a stick shift with the cat clutched to my chest, but I was able to get turned around and headed back to my house.
As I got closer, a familiar blonde ponytail bobbed in the wind, its owner executing an impressive power walk stride.
I gave the horn a friendly tap to let her know I was coming up behind her.
She turned and shielded her eyes with a bunch of envelopes. “Gideon?”
I stopped next to her. “Hi.” The curves of her triceps created shadows on her sun-kissed arms. She was even prettier in the daylight, which I didn’t think was possible. I skimmed past her cleavage to look into her eyes but couldn’t help but notice that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“What are you doing?” she said.
“I found your cat!” I pulled the T-shirt away to reveal little black and orange ears. The kitten executed another ear-piercing screech.
Her brow furrowed. “Gideon, that’s not my cat.”
“What? It was down the road from your house.”
“This is a calico kitten. My cat is a tabby, and I found him last night.”
I looked down at the white, orange, and gray furball on my chest. “Isn’t a tabby a cat with spots?”
“No.” Piper smiled. “They’re striped. Mine is black and gray. This is someone’s pet or a stray.”
Piper reached into the car to scratch the cat on the head. Vibration tickled my thumb as he or she purred.
“It’s purring. I guess whatever it is, it’s your cat now.” I tried to hand the T-shirt to Piper.
Her face dropped, and her eyes filled with sadness. “I wish I could take it, Gideon, but my cat is not friendly with others.”
Shit. “What am I supposed to do with it?”
Her mail key jingled on its Mercedes symbol key chain as she tapped the envelopes on the palm of her hand. It hadn’t escaped my attention that she still wasn’t wearing a ring. “We could put a post on the community page and see if anyone is missing a kitten.”
“What about the shelter?” I asked.
“We could call to see if someone has reported a missing cat, but don’t you dare drop this little guy there. They euthanize cats if they don’t find a home in three weeks, and last I heard, all of the shelters around here are full.” Her voice trembled.
Dammit. If I ever wanted to look in those Caribbean-blue eyes again, the shelter option was out. “What are you doing right now?” I asked.
She held up the envelopes. “Just getting the mail.”
“Get in.” I got out of the car and opened the passenger door. “I’ll drive you home.”
Piper folded her arms across her chest. “I enjoy the walk, and I don’t take orders.”
I held out the sweaty shirt. “I’m sorry. I’m desperate. Please, let me give you a ride home. I need someone to hold on to this angry cat. It already drew blood.”
Her shoulders softened, and she took the swaddled kitten, murmuring to it as she eased into the passenger seat. She tucked the mail next to the seat, then wrapped both hands around the bundle, kissing the top of its head. “What are you going to name it?”
Choking, I shook my head. “I’m not keeping the cat. Like you said, hopefully someone is missing little sword paws. Can you help me with the community post? I don’t do social media.”
She sighed. “Sure. I can put up the post for you, but in return, you have to promise not to get rid of this cat until we find it a home.”
“Oh, come on.” I groaned. “Who wants a little feral cat?”
“That’s the deal.” She rubbed the kitten’s ears between her fingers. “And you have to take her to the vet to make sure she’s okay. And find out if this is a little girl or boy.”
“Hold on. I think that’s worth a little more than a social media post.”
Her ponytail whipped in the breeze as I followed the curved roadway. “What do you have in mind?”
A few things flashed in my mind, none of them gentlemanly. I cleared my throat and adjusted in the seat, hoping the surge in my cock wasn’t visible through the fabric of my workout shorts. “She, or he, is going to need a litter box and probably a cage or something. Will you come shopping with me?”
“Right now?” She looked at her Apple Watch.
“I’m sure that little thing is hungry, and I’m pretty fond of my fiddle-leaf fig plant. I don’t want him to turn it into a litter box.”
“You’re fond of your fiddle-leaf fig?” Her smile lit up her whole face. Was she making fun of me?
“Yeah. It’s massive, and I’ve never had one thrive like this one—it’s got two new leaves.” I couldn’t hide the excitement in my voice.
“You’re full of surprises, Gideon.” She patted my hand as it rested on the gear shifter. “If we go right now, I can come with you.”
Downshifting, I did a U-turn, and we zipped through the neighborhood.
She held the kitten tightly to her perfect…
Stop looking at her boobs, you plant nerd .
I couldn’t believe I had gone on and on about the fig.
I shook my head. At least with the fuzzball there, it gave me an excuse to look at the cute smattering of freckles on her cleavage.
On the way to the pet store, I must have sneaked ten billion glances at Piper. Thankfully, she had no idea. Where her focus was on the cat, mine was on her.
It felt right with this woman in the passenger seat.
I couldn’t describe how it felt right, just that it did.
The world of professional hockey didn’t exist when I was with her.
In a way, she reminded me of Ace’s quirky and cute wife, Goldie.
Although, where Goldie was a crunchy granola girl, Piper was more polished.
Her nails shone with a sheer manicure, and she had the body of someone who spent hours in a Pilates studio.
Even with those differences, there was a familiarity, a softness and warmth that I’d never experienced with a stranger. Or anyone, for that matter.
Ace said he knew that Goldie was the one the first day they met.
That he felt it in his guts and had waited for two ferries to pass so he could get on the same one as her.
I’d told him it wasn’t his guts, it was his dick, but as Piper swiped her hair behind her ear, I understood was Ace was talking about.
Of course, my dick pulsed when I looked at her, but something else happened too. Butterflies, but not the pre-game variety. These ones were bigger, and their wings beat faster.
I stroked the top of the kitten’s head with my thumb.
Piper looked at me.
Time slowed.
I was the first one to look away, but only because I didn’t want to plow the Porsche through the front window of Whiskers and Paws.
The clerk was a vet tech and estimatedthe kitten to be about eight weeks. Old enough to be away from its mother, so it could be a lost pet. He was scared but not feral.
Armed with bags of cat supplies and the cat safely contained in a carrier, Piper and I got back into the car.
“That was nice of the clerk to make us these flyers.” She put the package of papers on the dashboard.
“It was.” I reversed out of the parking lot.
“Hopefully, we find his real home soon so I can return all this stuff.” The kitten screamed from the confines of his crate.
I didn’t hate cats, but I didn’t exactly like them either.
Like my father, I thought that cats belonged outside.
Now, because of the beautiful woman in the passenger seat, a cat tree hung over the side of my Porsche, and I was taking dagger paws home with me.