Chapter 12
TWELVE
How I found myself in his car and not walking back to my own damn apartment, I really didn’t know. Pretty sure it was the red haze of annoyance and jealousy that put my ass in his beige car.
Beige. So him and yet so not.
The energy and colors vibrated out of him when our lips locked, but then like a switch, his aura became the equivalent of flat ecru wall paint. I wasn’t sure how he did it. Were his shields that good?
Did he even know he had them?
Why did I care?
I tapped my fingers on my thigh to the music playing on low. It was some watery, mid-tempo type song that I would listen to while I was sketching. Not exactly the stuff I’d listen to in the car. The car was for loud music—pop, singalong hair metal, classic rock—anything but sleepy chill out stuff.
Then again, he was driving a Grandpa car.
Why was this the guy who got my libido to sit up and take notice? Was it just because I’d been in a drought? Not on purpose or anything. I just had been happily in my own lane for work and enjoying spending time with friends instead of looking for someone to get horizontal with.
“So, how much is this going to cost me?”
“I’ll cover your entry fee.”
“I can handle my own finances, thanks.”
His lips twitched. “Two hundred.”
“What? Are we meeting billionaires or something?”
“For two hundred dollars?”
“Fair.” I crossed my arms. I could afford it, but damn, that was steep. “I suppose that gets rid of the players.”
“One would think.”
Then again, he’d had his lips on mine a short time before he put himself out there for the next twenty or so eligible bachelorettes. Guys were pigs. Even the supposed good ones.
I’d learned that growing up with a free spirit for a mother. She’d gotten hurt so many times I lost count. Men promising she was the one, if only that pesky wife wasn’t in the picture. And yet, the wife was never out of the picture.
Preston took a left, away from the eateries, cafés, and shopping district of Kensington Square and headed into the heart of Syracuse. The maze of byways and highways took us deeper into the flat grays and industrial flavor of the city.
“Where is this place?”
“Not far.”
I dug my phone out of my bag. “What’s the name of it?”
He was silent for a beat too long. Enough that I gave him some serious side eye. His finger tapped on the steering wheel. “It’s new. There’s no site.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Everything has a site. That’s how you market these days. Especially for startups.”
“Patience, Miss Moon.”
I huffed out a growl and scrolled through my messages, but unfortunately, there wasn’t anything pressing or interesting to reply to. Luna had a group session tonight at her new apartment building. A few of the tenants had been interested in learning about tarot.
Not that I wanted to tell her I was going to some random speed dating event tonight—especially if I didn’t ask her to come. She’d kill me.
Hell, she would kill me when she found out. She always knew.
I straightened in my seat as Preston pulled into…a clinic? I turned to him. “What the hell are you into, PMS?”
He didn’t answer me, just got out and came around to open my door. I was so flabbergasted I didn’t even try to open my own door. He held his hand out for me, and I couldn’t think of a good reason not to take it. Especially when his eyes dared me to say no.
The hum and near burn of contact darkened my mood even further. I quickly snatched my hand out of his, swung my bag over my shoulder, and stalked for the door.
A huge window took up most of the front of the building.
It was decorated with hearts and flowers in colorful window paint.
Balloons decorated the door and were also tied to one of those chalkboard sandwich boards.
A rather realistic drawing of a kitten peeked from the corner with an invitation to come inside for the speed dating event.
I could feel him looming behind me, so I glanced back. “I suppose it’s only natural they need to use animals to help humans hook up.”
Preston’s eyebrow lifted, but he just gave me an amused look. And again, he managed to get around me to open the door, dammit.
The little clinic was bustling with people. The air was a bit antiseptic with a soothing overlay of lavender. As a mystical sort, I approved of the soothing use of essential oils, especially for something as nerve-inducing as meet and greets.
Secondary approval for the fact that lavender was one of the few essential oils safe for cats. It was amazing how many people could poison their animals with the essential oils craze that had taken over the world.
A short line of people were waiting to be checked in, and little pens were set up with blankets and toys for the supposed meet and greet areas.
Before I could open my mouth and ask more questions, PMS took my hand and we wove around to another desk lined with pamphlets, fancy cat food adverts, and various medicines that I’d never heard of.
“I’d like to check in, and I’ve got a plus one.”
The woman behind the desk gave him a wide smile and fluttered her astoundingly fake lashes at him. Her friendly factor dimmed a few notches when she noticed me.
“Of course, Mr. Shaw.” Her fingers flew over her keyboard.
They knew him here? Just how many times had he done this kind of thing?
“I am not your plus one. How does that even work with speed dating—” I stopped short.
No way would he be into that… Or would he? How well did I know him, after all?
I swallowed and refused to assess the quick prick of sweat forming between my boobs. “Look, I’m open-minded, but I’m not really into the poly thing.”
The woman glanced up from her computer, her mouth dropping open.
Preston cleared his throat. “Do you have another application, Tracy?”
“Yes, of course.”
He handed her his sheet and the card he’d somehow whipped out when I wasn’t paying attention. “You can put both on my card.”
I lifted my chin. “I told you I can pay my own way.”
“It’s fine. My treat.”
I elbowed him out of the way as I dug into my bag. “I don’t need you to.”
He blocked me with a clipboard. “Fill that out.”
Seething, I grabbed the board and automatically filled in my details. It was a pretty clever questionnaire, to be honest. “Wait, what does this mean, ‘are you willing to take on a special needs kitten?’”
He snatched the board out of my hand and scribbled something on it in that slashing way he had. He smiled at Tracy and took my hand again. “We’ll just wait over there for things to start.”
“Right.” Her huge, overdone eyes kept darting between us and narrowed at our joined fingers.
I almost shook him off, but something wouldn’t let me.
I didn’t have time to psychoanalyze my reaction before he hustled me to the side of the room near the windows.
Now that I wasn’t huffing across the parking lot, I noticed cats of all different types and ages were climbing, playing, and sleeping in the little atrium.
The most elaborate cat tree I’d ever seen filled the entire room.
“Pretty amazing, aren’t they?” His arm slid along my back as he braced himself behind me.
I looked up automatically. Preston’s face was too close, but there wasn’t much room since everyone in the room practically had their noses pressed to the glass. Our height difference yet again had my stupid hormones doing the samba. And the stupid ocean-tinged scent he wore was distracting as hell.
And why was he getting all up in my business anyway? He was the one who wanted us to strictly remain in our boss-employee roles. At least I thought it was mostly his idea. Okay, and I guess it had been mine too.
Except we kept kissing, and that was not entirely my fault. Then he dragged me here to this damn dating thing, and now he was definitely encroaching on my freaking personal space.
I tried to push back against him, and my ass slid across the front placket of his suit pants. Careful. I didn’t want to feel anything that would contribute to my personal failings later on.
Too late there.
I closed my eyes and drew in a calming breath. His resulting exhalation brushed the tendrils of curls near my ear.
“I made a few calls and convinced Piper Lockwood to donate one of her famous cat trees to the clinic.”
He just kept chatting along like he wasn’t half hard against my butt. “Famous?”
“Well, in cat circles anyway. She has a cat café in California that went viral, thanks in part to how clever she is and her famous rockstar husband. She only does special orders.”
I forced myself to focus on my surroundings.
There were little shelves and ramps bolted to the carpeted wall.
A dozen pillars in varying heights were scattered around the space, offering a dizzying array of levels for cats to perch, play, or sleep on.
The room was a proverbial princess playground for cats. “So, she makes up cat trees?”
“Does that look like a typical cat tree?”
I tipped my head to study his face. “You sure know a lot about cats.”
He swallowed, his gaze bouncing from my lips to my eyes and back again. “I donate a lot to this place. The cats they take on deserve so much more than the universe gives them.” He straightened up and moved away from me. “The least I can do is help out monetarily.”
I grabbed his tie before he could totally escape me. This was something that was important to him. There was a passion in his voice that I’d never heard before. “This isn’t a dating thing, huh?”
He gently pulled his tie out of my fingers. “No. This is a way to raise money for the treatment of these sweet animals that people forget about. And an adoption clinic for those who are ready to go to regular homes.”
“And you’re adopting a cat?”
“No—well, yes.” He folded his arms. “I usually just donate. I don’t know why I got the stupid urge to adopt one. I don’t have time for a cat.”
“Sure you do.” I patted his lapel. “You make time. It can even be a mascot cat for the law office. You know, like some have a dog. Helps to have a support animal, right?”