6. Piper
PIPER
My hand hovered over the doorbell while I battled the urge to flee, to hurdle the palm tree and disappear behind the manicured dogwood. It was ridiculous. I felt like a teenager with a crush on the boy next door. Taking a shaky breath, I pushed the button.
He was wearing a Miami Barracudas T-shirt and well-worn jeans. Dimples dented his scruffy cheeks as he ran his hand through his hair.
“Hi.” I could only manage a whisper.
“Hi.” We stared at each other for a couple of seconds. “Do you have any ne—ouch!” He winced, his lips drawing to a line, and he bent to pick up the kitten. “News? Did someone claim this little scratch master?”
I sighed. “No, I’m sorry, Gideon. The news is bad.”
“Oh no.” The kitten had grown but looked minuscule in the crook of Gideon’s tanned arm. “What is it?” He pulled the door open wide. “Would you like to come in?”
Hesitating, I took a step over the threshold. The last time I was in Gideon’s house, we’d been on the fast track to a big mistake. “I can’t stay long.”
He nodded and walked into his kitchen. “Can I get you a drink?” He opened the fridge, the cat still tucked into him like a quarterback with a football. “I’ve got coolers, Coors Light, sparkling water…” Bottles clanked as he rhymed off the available options.
“Sparkling water sounds good.” I had a hard enough time resisting Gideon when I was completely sober. There was no way I’d be able to control myself with margarita running through my veins. Gideon took out two cans of La Croix and set them on the counter.
“Do you need any help?” I chuckled. “It looks like you have to do everything with one arm.” It reminded me of when Olive was a colicky baby and I couldn’t set her down to get anything done.
Gideon looked at the cat like he’d never seen it before, then shook his head.
He set him on the floor, filled two glasses with ice, then handed me both the can and the glass.
“If I don’t pick him up, he climbs up my leg.
” He bent and lifted the hem of his pants.
Scratch marks in varying shades of red were slashed across his calf.
“Do I look like a scratching post? The little fucker hasn’t touched the damn thing.
The only furniture that he scratches is the leather couch and my leg.
” His words were angry, but the tone of his voice and the sparkle in his eye gave him away.
My heart swelled; he really did like the cat.
“You weren’t joking—you do look like a scratching post.” The water fizzed as I popped the tab on the can and poured it into the glass. That’s when I noticed an untouched plate of steak and potatoes on the counter. “Am I interrupting your dinner?”
“Not at all. I just got off a phone call.”
“I should let you eat.” I set the glass on the counter.
“No, please stay.” Gideon picked up the glass and handed it to me. “Have you eaten? I’ve got more than enough for the two of us.”
My stomach growled as I was about to decline.
“There’s my answer.” Gideon pulled a plate from the cupboard and handed it to me, along with a wood-handled steak knife and a fork.
Something told me that my attempt to decline dinner would be unsuccessful, and I hadn’t had a steak as good-looking as the one on the plate in front of me in what felt like years.
Plus, Olive was at a sleepover. It was one of the rare evenings that I had to myself. “Thank you. This looks delicious.”
“Sorry, there aren’t any vegetables.” He shrugged. “I can cut up some carrots.”
“I had a salad the size of my head for lunch. This looks perfect.”
Gideon opened the door to his patio. “It’s a nice night to eat outside.” He handed me a butter dish and a jar of horseradish. “What’s the bad news? We might as well get that out of the way, as long as it won’t make me lose my appetite.”
The heat of the day had subsided, the warm breeze wrapping salty air around us. The news was disappointing, but other than making me question the nature of humanity, I didn’t think it would impact Gideon’s appetite. “No one has claimed the kitten.”
He paused, then continued arranging the plates on the table. “Maybe they haven’t seen the post yet.”
The kitten bounded past us to the edge of the garden. “He likes to chase the geckos.” The sides of Gideon’s lips turned up as he watched the cat dive into the bougainvillea.
“That’s unlikely. There were three other kittens dumped by the front gate. The guard found them when he came into work. Your little guy just ventured further into Rosewood Estates than the others.”
“What happened to the other ones?” Gideon’s eyes were glued to the rustling in the bushes as the kitten continued its gecko hunt.
“Randall, the guard, is a softie. He took them home and is going to keep them if no one claims them.”
“Does he want one more?” Gideon shouted as he disappeared into the house, returning with a bottle of wine. The cat bounded past us, then circled back into the bush.
“Can you imagine having three of these in your house?” I laughed.
“God no.” Gideon shook his head. “Randall must wear shin pads.” He rubbed his square jawline. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. I could wear them to bed. He likes to attack my feet while I sleep.”
“Ha.” I pointed at Gideon. “Didn’t we have a bet about that?”
“About what?” His lips turned up. He knew exactly what I was talking about.
“The kitten. On your bed…”
“Shit.” Gideon looked at the table. “We did. What do I owe you?”
I laughed. “I think this dinner should cover it.”
Gideon flicked open the corkscrew with a flourish. “Then we are definitely drinking this bottle of wine.”
I should’ve resisted, but I didn’t.
A solar light flickered on the table as the sun set behind the palm trees.
“Please, have a seat.” He pulled out the patio chair like a seasoned ma?tre d’.
I slid onto the thick cushion, and Gideon draped a cloth napkin over my bare legs.
If I’d known I’d be sitting down to a fancy dinner, I would’ve changed out of my running skort.
“To your new cat.” I held up my wineglass.
Gideon gave a reluctant smile. “To my new cat.”
We tapped our glasses together, the ting of expensive crystal ringing in the night air. I sipped the wine and smiled. “It’s very nice.”
Gideon picked up the bottle and studied the label. “I got it as a gift. I think it’s good stuff. I’m not really a sommelier.”
“I’m not either. I’ve had some crazy expensive wine that tasted like balsamic vinegar.” I swirled the wine and sniffed it. “This has hints of chocolate and cigar.” It was an expensive bottle of wine; the Lockelhursts had the same bottle in the “very special” section of their wine cellar.
“Chocolate and cigar?” Gideon sniffed the wine and took another sip. “You know, that sounds disgusting, but I can totally taste it. Are you sure you’re not a connoisseur?”
I chuckled. “I’m not, but I’ve got some friends who are really into wine. Did you know that cat pee is a tasting note?”
He blinked and dabbed at his lips with his napkin. “I was not aware of that. That must mean it’s gone bad.”
“No, it’s actually a good quality. Speaking of…” I gesture to the rustling bush with my wineglass. “How’s he doing with his litter box?”
Gideon’s chest puffed. “Good. He hasn’t had any accidents at all.
That’s why I’m shocked that someone just dumped him.
If I ever find out who did that…” His voice trailed off.
“They could’ve taken them to a barn or to a shelter.
Those kittens didn’t stand a chance next to all the canals here.
You never know what’s lurking in there.”
I shivered. There had always been alligators, but lately, there had been sightings of some pretty big snakes too.
The palm trees rustled, and a gust of wind left ripples on the swimming pool.
I relaxed and took a bite of the steak. It was cooked perfectly.
The potato steamed as I unwrapped the foil. “So, you’re going to keep him?”
Gideon took a bite of his steak and sipped his wine, taking his time to respond. The kitten launched out of the bush, bounded across the patio, and jumped onto Gideon’s lap. “Well, I’ve named him, so that means I have to keep him, right?”
Heat bloomed across my chest. On the outside, Gideon Bailey was huge, scruffy, and gruff.
I’d done a little bit of internet sleuthing, and the online consensus seemed to be that he was an asshole.
The journalists painted Gideon as stoic, cold, and one-dimensional.
A hockey machine. The man who sat across the table from me was all of those physical things.
His forearms were roped with muscle, and his biceps stretched the sleeves of his T-shirt.
His jawbone was sharp but softened with a seemingly permanent five-o’clock shadow.
But underneath the Grecian god exterior, the man was not too hard.
He read cozy mysteries and named stray cats.
What other surprises lay underneath that perfect body of his?
“That’s definitely a rule. If you name something, it means you’re keeping it. So, what’s the little guy’s name?” I reached over the corner of the table to scratch the kitten’s head.
A hint of red crept along that jawbone. Was Gideon blushing? “It’s not that creative.”
“You’re talking to the woman whose cat is named Pussy, remember? Just tell me it’s not Cat.”
His eyes sparkled when he laughed. “No. Give me a little credit. Piper, meet C.C.”
“C.C.? Is that a famous hockey player or something?” I cut a piece of steak and smeared potato on it. The combination was so simple, yet so good.
The red from his jawbone spread to his cheeks. He cleared his throat. “No. It’s short for Calico Cat.”
I set down my fork and knife and clasped my hands together as I laughed. “I love it. It suits him perfectly.”
“I can’t tell whether you’re joking or not.” Gideon had finished his dinner. He took a sip of wine and relaxed into the chair. C.C. curled up in his lap into a tiny ball next to his massive… I jerked my gaze away from the cat and the bulge in Gideon’s pants.
“As serious as a heart attack.” I took the last bite of steak and potato. “It’s way better than Gretzky.”
“Whoa.” Gideon’s wineglass clanked as he set it on the clear table. “Easy on the Great One.” He put C.C. on the ground and stood to clear my plate. “Although, if I was going to name him after a player, I’d have to choose Landon Riley.”
I scrunched my brow. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“No?” Gideon tilted his head. “Riley is one of our defensemen. He’s the scrappiest player in the league. A bit of a bull in a china shop when it comes to executing plays though.”
“That name suits the cat too.” I helped Gideon clear the table and followed him into the kitchen. “Would it be weird to name your cat after one of your teammates though?”
Gideon shrugged. “Probably, but I don’t care.”
I was learning that Gideon was massively misunderstood.
I interpreted his ambivalence as confidence, an I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks about me , and I liked it.
The men I’d met lately seemed to care about their “image” and not much else.
Maybe Gideon didn’t have to worry because he was damn near perfect, but there was a quiet confidence to him that guys my age didn’t seem to have yet.
Gideon put the plates in the dishwasher, but before I could rinse the wineglasses, he stopped me. “Would you like another glass?” He rested his hand on mine. Without waiting for a response, he filled the two glasses.
“Gideon.” My heart raced. “I should go.”
He stopped pouring and set the bottle on the counter. “Piper. I’m going to come out and ask it. Are you married?”
He was lucky I hadn’t taken a sip of wine because he would’ve been wearing it. “No.” I gulped. “Although I can see why you’d ask.”
“The way you ran out of here the other day, I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry about that, Gideon.
I just got…” I searched for the right word.
“I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.
” That was easier than saying I was scared.
It was easier than telling him I had a five-year-old daughter and cleaned toilets for a living.
I was doing him a favor. Shutting the whole thing down before he could.
“Me neither. I have to focus on hockey.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I really like spending time with you though.”
“Same.” I smiled. “Our wildlife rescue program has added a little excitement to my life.”
You . You’ve added excitement to my life.
“Yeah,” he chuckled and uncrossed his arms. “Now, I’m stuck living with that excitement.” He did air quotes around the word “excitement.”
“Tell me you don’t like that cat. I dare you.” I nudged him with my elbow.
Gideon held up his hands. “You got me. I’m still not crazy about the shitting in a box in the house thing, but I do like the company.” He swiveled, placing his hands on the counter on either side of me.
We had already established that neither of us was looking for a relationship. The problem? I wanted Gideon Bailey more than any man I’d met in my life. I’d never had a one-night stand, and the whole friends-with-benefits thing really didn’t sit well with me.
I couldn’t sleep with him. Had I said that already?
His biceps bulged as he pressed his weight into his hands, his body angling toward mine. The air-conditioning was no match for the heat between us. An unseen force drew my body away from the counter and my hands to his neck.
Maybe a kiss was all I needed. Maybe feeling his lips on mine would be enough to douse the inferno that burned inside of me. It had been over five years since I’d been with a man.
With the warmth of his strong neck beneath my fingers, my rules and morals started to become a bit more fluid. Maybe I could sleep with Gideon and not need more.
“Gideon,” I whispered and rested my cheek on his.
His hand slipped behind my waist, drawing us together.
Breathing in, breathing out. On his inhale, his rib cage expanded into my chest; on the exhale, our bodies parted.
His breath rasped hot on my earlobe as his other hand found its way to my face, his fingertips resting on my chin as he guided my lips to his.
He cupped my face and kissed me gently, then a little harder. His lips were an invitation I didn’t want to refuse. Despite all of my reservations, I was waffling, teetering on the edge of a decision that could change everything. And a part of me didn’t want to pull back.
When his body pressed mine against the countertop, that’s when I knew… I was about to have a one-night stand with the hockey player next door.