Chapter Seven #2
Things were improving for him. He was about to start an incredible new job, one that would finally show the world that Nick Zorn could do it on his own.
His brothers were excited for him. His parents were proud.
And there was no way he was going to let any of them down.
His family had endured enough hardship over the past couple of years. He wouldn’t add to it.
Besides, he didn’t want to let himself down. He needed to keep his head on straight and do the job because he was so grateful for this opportunity.
Unfortunately, his body had other ideas.
Today, he’d awakened with the most raging case of morning wood ever.
And he knew it was all because of Claire.
He couldn’t get her off his mind. He’d even started having sex dreams about her.
Last night, his dream had involved him taking her on her Hemnes dresser, which made no sense at all.
The dresser was too high. He knew, because he’d analyzed its dimensions with that exact thought in mind.
In a way, Nick had been relieved to wake up with an erection. That hadn’t happened since his early days with Kristy.
Frankly, he’d barely glanced at his little buddy since that fiasco. He was glad to know his dick hadn’t given up the ghost completely.
“The best time to visit with Mortimer is in the morning,” Claire said, rousing Nick from his stupor. She opened up the B&B door. “He loves morning cuddles.”
“Don’t we all?”
She looked over her shoulder, a nervous smile tickling her mouth.
God, Nick. Stop. She’ll think you’re a weirdo.
As Claire walked in, all the cats rose in recognition of their den mother. They greeted her with various meows and that funny chirping noise some cats made. He knew the noise well. It was usually a signal that Pickle or Angel were gunning for him.
“Good morning, my lovelies,” called Claire. “Who’s ready for nibblies? Where are all my hungry boys and girls?”
Several cats pawed their kennels. Nick thought a couple of them gave him the stink eye, but he wasn’t sure. Cats pretty much always looked like they were giving someone the stink eye. Grandma Ingrid used to say that was one of the things she loved about them.
Come to think of it, they did have somewhat of a badass appeal. He could respect that.
“Now,” said Claire, bringing him off to the little side room where their food was prepared.
She pointed to a printout that had been taped to the cupboard above the counter.
“This is a list of everyone’s particular feeding instructions.
Some of our friends are on diets and we have to be really careful which food they receive.
Most of our donations go directly to food.
I try as much as possible to serve the good stuff.
My friend Adele is our vet. You’ll meet her on Saturday at the party. Whatever she recommends, I buy.”
“Okay. Boy, Lacey will be mad she missed this.”
“Oh, she’s already filmed me doing a feeding. We’re good.” She chuckled. “Come to think of it, Lacey’s filmed me doing pretty much everything.”
“Sounds like Lacey.” Nick elbowed Claire gently. “Don’t look over your shoulder. She might be watching us right now.”
Claire did a funny humming thing and looked at his elbow.
She then blinked and turned back to the counter.
“Anyway, as you can see, we already have a bunch of fresh bowls ready to go. There’s a measuring cup you can use.
If you wouldn’t mind measuring out some of the food for urinary health for the cats highlighted in red, that would be great.
Those cats have urinary tract issues, so they need special food. ”
“The ones in red. Got it.” Nick filled the bowls in question, careful to double-check the amounts on the reference sheet.
As he worked, Claire filled her own bowls with a different food. “You’re doing great.”
“Thanks.”
“I want to thank you again, Nick. You know, for Friday night. I can’t tell you how nice it was to wake up in the morning and not see the pieces of that dresser on the floor. I’d stopped seeing them, to be honest. I didn’t even realize what a burden it had become.”
He stopped scooping out food for a second. “I was happy to help. Really. If there’s anything else I can do, just say the word.”
“I appreciate it. You’re very kind.” She nibbled the inside of her bottom lip. “Can I ask you an odd question?”
“Sure.” Anything.
“How did you end up with those eyes?”
“Sorry?”
“The color, I mean. Michael has dark eyes and Eli has blue. How did you end up with amber brown?”
“Oh. Apparently, I take after my great-grandfather. Everyone else in the family has either brown or blue eyes, but my mom’s grandpa had the same color as I do.”
“I see. Well, it’s an unusual shade. Very nice.”
“Really?” He gazed into her eyes, wishing he could linger there forever. “I’m partial to dark brown.”
“Interesting. I don’t think a lot of brown-eyed girls get to hear that, you know, other than from that one song.”
“Your eyes are beautiful.”
And…there.
A blush.
He was getting addicted to putting the pink in her cheeks.
He couldn’t help wondering if that shade ever appeared elsewhere on her body. On her chest, maybe, as she flushed with pleasure? Or maybe on that sweet ass, after a good spanking? He was getting hot just thinking about it.
Fuuuck. This isn’t helping, dude.
A loud yowl sounded from the B&B.
Claire sighed. “That would be Mortimer.”
The door to the B&B opened. One of the volunteers, an older lady with dyed pink hair, walked in. When she saw Claire with him, she looked between them a couple of times, and her face broke into a huge smile. “Oh, hi, guys. I didn’t expect to run into you here, Claire. You know, with a man.”
“Stella, hi,” said Claire. “I was just showing Nick how we do feedings.”
“Feedings,” said Stella. “Right.”
Claire gave her a pointed look. “Anyway, we got a start on some of the bowls. Would you mind taking over for us? Nick and I are going to check on Mortimer.”
“Sure thing. Say hi to the Manager for me.”
As they walked out of the little room, Stella didn’t even try to hide her blatant observation. Her head cocked to one side, she appeared utterly amused.
They approached Mortimer’s kennel. The old cat stood and brushed himself against the cage. Claire reached a finger through the opening and rubbed his head.
“He sure likes you,” said Nick.
“Mortimer and I go way back. Oh, and it’s not so much me that gets him excited. He just knows I smuggle in some treats in the morning.”
“Treats?” Nick teased. “What happened to special diets?”
“He gets the good stuff too, but I just happen to think he deserves a treat as well. This little guy has been through the wars, and Adele figures he’s about seventeen years old.
So he gets all the treats he wants. From me, anyway.
” She opened up the kennel. “Now, Morty, our friend Nick is here. You weren’t very welcoming with him the first day.
Here’s your chance to make it up to him.
” She extricated the cat from the kennel.
“Doesn’t he eat in his cage?”
“Normally, yes, but you’re going to give him his treat today.”
“I don’t know about that, Claire. I don’t want to upset him.”
“Mortimer’s been fed by so many people. He’ll be fine. Are you okay to try?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“Good. Let’s bring him over to the bean bags.”
She had set up a seating area in one corner of the room. It was comprised of four bean bag chairs in primary colors. Nick settled himself onto one of the bags, keeping an eye on Mortimer as Claire sat down. The feline pinned its gaze on Nick, but didn’t hiss. That was a start.
Nick waited for the old nerves to resurface, but he was filled with a strange calmness instead. Maybe it was because Claire was so at ease with Mortimer, gently cooing and babbling to the elderly cat.
She handed Nick a bag of treats that she had grabbed from the counter earlier. “Here. Shake the bag a bit.”
Nick did as he was told, echoing the words Grandma Ingrid always used to say. “Treat, treat. Who’s a good boy?”
When Claire smiled, he felt silly, but also really good.
Mortimer regarded him with something less than malevolence.
“He’s interested,” said Claire.
“He looks like he wants to eat my face.”
“Cats aren’t like dogs, Nick. Sometimes, you have to work for their love.” She set Mortimer on the floor between them, but the cat stayed close to her legs. “Put some treats in your hand.”
“In my hand?”
“In your hand.”
“If you say so.” Giving the bag another shake for good measure, Nick emptied out a few nuggets into the palm of his hand.
“Now, just rest your hand on the floor, and keep still. We’ll see if he comes to you.”
Nick opened his hand palm up on the floor. “Come and get it, little dude.”
Mortimer looked back at Claire, as if to say, ‘Oh, come on, Mom. Seriously?’ However, she gave him a little nudge on his hip, and he must have realized he had no choice. He chirped to express his discontent, but then slowly approached Nick’s hand.
“That’s it,” coached Claire. “Don’t move.”
When a bead of perspiration appeared on Nick’s upper lip, he realized he was probably far too invested in receiving Mortimer’s blessing. Still, the cat meant a lot to Claire, and for some reason, Nick really wanted to show her that he could keep his cool around her ornery little buddy.
Mortimer lowered his head and gave Nick’s hand a sniff, a long one.
He was obviously wondering whether or not the treats were worth lowering himself in this fashion.
He sniffed everywhere—his fingertips, his knuckles, right up to his wrist. Nick was on the verge of picking up a treat and eating it to show Mortimer it was cool, when the cat crept closer and licked at one of the treats.
Nick met Claire’s gaze for a second. They both held their breath.
Mortimer snatched a treat from his palm and munched it. Little crumbs fell on the floor. The Manager did not have good table manners. But Nick forgave him when the cat snatched another treat, and another.
Nick couldn’t hold in his laughter. He was actually giving a cat a treat!
Up in Heaven, Grandma Ingrid must be cracking open a box of wine.
“Okay, stay put,” said an excited Claire. “I’m going to grab his food bowl and brush.” She handed Nick the full bowl. “Here. Put it right in front of you on the floor.”
Nick did so and Mortimer sniffed around a bit more. A bit more comfortable now, the cat started eating from his bowl, looking up periodically to see if Nick was watching.
“You’d better praise him,” said Claire.
“Of course. Can I pat him?”
“Sure. He loves taps on the butt.” When he glanced at her, she added, “I know. Don’t we all?” Then she laughed.
“A woman after my own heart.” Unable to stop grinning, Nick gave Mortimer a few little taps.
The cat’s tail shot up.
“Is that bad?” he asked.
“No, it’s good. When a cat shows you his butt, he’s really saying, ‘I like you, so you can smell me.’ I think you’ve won over the Manager, Nick.”
“Look at that.” He stroked Mortimer’s back. “I’m petting a cat, Claire. I’ve never done this before.”
“Aw, well, now you have.”
“Michael and Eli won’t believe it.”
“They will.” Claire pulled out her cell phone from her pocket. “May I?”
“Sure.” He smiled.
“There.” She took the picture and showed it to him.
“I can tell you’re a photographer. It’s a good shot.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“Would you mind texting that to me? And to my brothers?”
She sent the texts. “Done.”
“I’m going to forward it to everyone I’ve ever known.”
“You do that. Would you like to brush him?”
“Yeah, I would.” Nick didn’t even need to cajole Mortimer. As soon as the cat saw the brush, he fell into Nick’s lap. “Whoa!”
“He loves getting brushed.”
They sat in silence for a few moments as Nick brushed his new pal. As for Mortimer, with each brush stroke, he grew heavier and heavier. Little by little, his eyes started to close.
Nick’s heart swelled. He was thrilled to have this experience with a cat for the first time in his life, but even happier that Claire had given it to him. As a new warmth cocooned them on their bean bag seats, Nick spoke in hushed tones, so as not to disturb Mortimer. “Thank you. This is awesome.”
Her smile made his lungs feel too big for his ribcage. “You’re welcome.”
“Could we do this again sometime?”
“You know where to find me.”
“Yeah. I do.”
Within minutes, the familiar sounds of the crew arriving for work interrupted their reverie. Outside, car doors were shut. Someone cranked up a radio, and pretty soon, the sound of work boots stomping through the hallway met their ears.
“I guess I should get to work on your office.”
“Yeah. I just need to grab my laptop and a couple of things. I’ll put Mortimer back in his kennel.”
Nick shifted the cat on his lap so Claire didn’t have to reach between his legs.
She picked Mortimer up, told him he was a good boy and rewarded him with a head rub.
As Nick admired the movement of her delicate fingers, he sort of wanted Claire to call him a good boy and scratch his head too.
Sighing at his stupidity, he stood and stretched out his legs.
God, she was so pretty, but a small crease had formed between her eyebrows.
What was she thinking? Was she sad to see their moment end? He certainly was.
Nah, she’s probably just worried about her office reno.
Stella poked her head around the corner. “Is it safe to come in?”
“Of course, it’s safe,” said Claire.
Only, as Claire discussed feeding time procedure with Stella, Nick realized one thing might not be safe around Claire at all.
His heart.