Chapter 3
Chapter Three
TILLY
I’m a sucker, and I’m not even mad at myself for it. How can I be when I’m about to see a kitten? I have always wanted one, but my place is too small. The thought of getting to hold one has me bouncing on my heels while I wait for Paxton to return.
Something out of the corner of my eye catches my attention, and I spin around. That’s when I see an adorable donkey poking its head out.
“Hi,” I say to him, but when I wave, he darts back into the barn.
“Don’t take it personally. He’s shy,” Paxton says, and I turn to see he’s got the kitten tucked close to his chest.
“Oh my gosh, it’s an orange baby.” My voice is barely above a whisper as I step closer. “Hi, baby.” Reaching out, I scratch its fluffy head. “Aren’t you adorable.” Okay, so it turns out everything around here is adorable. Including Paxton, even if I don’t want to admit it. “Is it a boy or girl?”
“Girl.”
“Really! Isn’t that super rare?” I’d heard most orange cats are male.
“Yeah, she was shunned by the others. She was the runt of the litter, so I took her in. I think I’m going to keep her.”
“Does she have a name?”
“I still need to come up with one. Got any ideas?”
“Me?” I point to myself.
“Yes, you.” His lips turn up in a half smile, and it’s so unfair. You don’t get to be this good-looking, smart, and charming. Isn’t that against the rules or something? Although I have no idea what the rules are.
“Cheddar? Cheeto, ope! Paprika."
“All food choices,” he chuckles, and the sound is deep and oddly calming.
“I think they’re solid names,” I snip. Why did he ask me if he didn’t want me to pick one?
“No, I love them all,” he says. Why is he so nice all the time? “You want to come in and hold her? It’s cold out here.” He gently moves her off his chest and toward me.
“Okay,” I find myself agreeing as I take her from him.
“Don’t mind the mess.”
“You should see my place. You’d think a tornado had gone through it.”
“Is that an invitation?” he asks as he holds the door open for me.
“I live above the hardware store. It’s not very big, so I don’t have people over.”
I don’t have people over except for Molly, but she doesn’t count.
Plus, she brings food. Okay, so occasionally family pops in.
Fine, I might have people over, but those people can’t be Paxton Rudolph.
I’m already struggling to not think about him all the time.
Having his big body in my space with that ridiculous warm, woodsy chocolate smell would be my demise. He’s probably too big anyways.
“I get that. I have a pull-out couch in my office at the clinic so I can crash there if I need to. Thankfully I haven’t had to yet. I’ve got animals at home I have to take care of.”
“If you’re ever in a pinch, you can call me. I could come out and feed them or whatever.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself, but I blame the sweet purring kitten in my hands.
Paxton gets a free pass to lure me out here whenever he wants. Not that I think he’s interested in me in that way, but spending more time around him isn’t going to help my small obsession.
"I might take you up on that.”
Crap. I quickly change the subject to focus on something else. This house is as alluring as its owner, so I go with that.
"You're really revamping this place.” I look around at all the work he’s done.
This house used to belong to the Canes. They retired down to Florida, saying they couldn't take the cold anymore. I love that we get all the seasons in Cheerful. The Florida heat would kill me.
"It needed some work, but it's coming together." The house has always been beautiful but was in need of updates. Pretty sure Mrs. Cane kept her couch wrapped in plastic. Not that I blame her; she had a handful of kids that have kids of their own at this point.
"It's a lot of house," I say, trying to recall how many rooms there are. I think there’s a master on the main floor but four or five bedrooms upstairs. It’s an old country-style home with a wrap-around deck, but Paxton is giving it a refresh from what I can see. I like that he’s keeping the history of it too because the place is beautiful.
The Canes had a lot of kids and needed all the space. My mom only had me, but I think I was plenty for her to handle. When I was little, I would get into everything. I might still do that now, but I'm better at being sneaky about it.
“It is, but the plan is to live here for a very long time. I'll likely retire here.”
“Oh, so you want kids and a wife.” I don’t know why it feels like I said something dirty because heat rushes to my cheeks. I’m going to have to watch him fall in love with a local and have babies with them. Gross.
“Plus, a donkey, kittens, a dog, and chickens.” A sheepish expression crosses his face, and he runs his fingers through his hair. “I could go on and on.”
I could listen to you go on and on.
“That sounds really nice.” Too nice. It’s the kind of thing I’ve always wanted.
My father was absent throughout my entire life, but I was fortunate to have my mom and grandpa.
We all lived together and worked as a unit, and we still kind of do.
The work together part at least. That’s the kind of future I want.
To have my own family unit, but this time I want it to be bigger.
I might have tomboy vibes, but I want to be a mom more than anything.
It’s part of why I never left this town.
My dreams are here, and this whole town is a part of that.
“You want that too?” he asks, and I shrug, downplaying my biggest wishes.
I glance away from the crown molding I was admiring in the living room and see Paxton watching me. His expression makes me think he didn’t buy my shrug. It scares me how easily he can read me, so I keep on talking.
"There are a lot of girls in this town that would be more than happy to shack up with you." I try to make a joke out of it but hate the thought. "The view of the lake alone would be worth it."
"I don't want a random girl in town."
"Right, sorry, I meant girl or boy."
"As nice as a lot of the men are around here, I want a wife."
I have to turn my attention away from him, so I go back to looking at the very interesting crown molding. Molly says my face speaks as much as I do.
“I’m sure you’ve been asked on plenty of dates. The girls in town have been gushing over you.” When he doesn’t respond, I glance back toward him. I swear he almost has a bashful expression. How can a man as hot as him be shy?
“There have been a few, but none of them interest me.” This time it’s him that shrugs. “This might shock you, but I haven’t really dated.”
“No way, Doc. You went to one of those fancy Ivy League colleges. Cornell, right? It’s one of the best for veterinary medicine.”
“It is the best. How’d you know that?” Oh man, did I really out my own stalking?
“Small town. People are nosy.” I’m probably the nosiest one of them all, but Paxton doesn’t need to know that.
“So I hear,” he says, and I nod. “But I also hear that if anyone wants to know anything, they should ask you.”
“Well, what you're hearing is wrong. You should probably get that checked.” He chuckles from behind me.
“But yes, I went to Cornell. The program was intense and fast-paced. All my time was focused there, and then after graduation, I did mentoring. A lot of it was in remote places because I wanted as much hands-on experience as I could get. So dating hasn’t been in the cards for me.”
I drop down on the couch, not ready to part with the kitten. It's not because I enjoy being here. Not at all. I have other important things I could be doing, like eating the food Gramps made me.
"I get that. I haven't dated much either. It’s all the same people or tourists that are only passing through."
"Like kissing cousins around here?"
I snort a laugh. "Yeah, it’s kinda gross. Plus, I've seen half the men in this town eat glue or something equally as stupid."
"Don’t eat glue in front of you. Got it." Is he teasing me or flirting? No, he’s not flirting with me. I feel myself getting flustered, and I’m not used to that.
“You could try a dating app. I got one today.”
“You’re on a dating app?”
Why does his question sound like an accusation? I shouldn’t have brought it up. I don’t need to talk about his dating because that shit hurts my feelings.
“So you’re keeping her?” I put my focus back on the kitten in my hands.
“I’d like to, but I hate leaving her by herself while she’s so young.” My finger itches to brush his hair off his forehead and to the side.
“I could take her whenever you need to work.” What the hell, Tilly! Why do you keep offering yourself up like a little shameless slut?
“We could co-parent,” he suggests. “I mean, only if you want to.”
“Oh, I want to,” I rush to say.
“Great.” He’s equally as quick to respond, like he wants to get the deal done before I change my mind.
Why does it feel like I’ve agreed to way more than taking care of a kitten?