17. Caitlin
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
caitlin
The orange tabby kitten my daughter adopted and duly named Cheeto screeched in the kitchen. He was hungry. Again.
“I just fed you like twenty minutes ago,” I grumbled.
He’d escalated from screaming to climbing my leg like a tree, his tiny little claws digging into my skin.
“Ouch!” I tried to shake him free, but the little sucker was hanging on for dear life.
Leaning down, I plucked him off my leg and cradled him in my arms. He mouthed at my hand, making biscuits in the air with his paws.
“It’s a good thing you’re so cute,” I muttered as my phone vibrated on the counter.
Bec
Hey! What are you up to today?
Hi. Currently? Wrangling a kitten that my daughter found. Later? Not sure.
I sent a selfie of me with Cheeto along with the message.
Bec
Aw! How cute! I’m allergic to cats unfortunately. Not deathly, but enough that we can’t have one at home. But Noah loves animals.
So does Whitley.
Bec
I wanted to see if you’re interested in doing a playdate with Noah and Whitley since they’re around the same age.
That actually sounds great. You could come out here if you don’t mind the drive. We’ve got a nice big yard and plenty of room to run around.
Bec
Any chance I might get to meet that hot neighbor/landlord of yours?
Funny, but he’s out of town for a rodeo.
Bec
OMG hello? You failed to mention he was a cowboy! Does he have any single cowboy friends? Asking for me.
I held in a laugh, still holding the kitten in one arm.
Unfortunately, I don’t think so.
Bec
Damn. I need to find myself a cowboy.
I mean, Jake is single as far as I know.
I immediately regretted sending that message the moment it was delivered. It was the truth, though. Jake and I weren’t together. He was single, and I had been denying having any feelings for him, even if that was miles from the truth.
Bec
No, no, no. Don’t play that. He’s YOUR cowboy, girl.
I loosed the breath in my chest, relief washing over me as I unclenched the grip on my phone.
Right. That was silly of me.
Bec
See you in about thirty?
Sounds good. See you then.
“Did you see all that?” I looked down at the kitten. “I have a new friend.”
Cheeto let out a squeak in response then clawed at my arm until I set him down on the floor.
He disappeared around the corner to who knows where.
Kittens and children were kind of similar in their energy levels, their tendency to get into trouble, and their refusal to listen ninety percent of the time.
At least Cheeto couldn’t talk back or tell me I looked like a toe.
Pulling some groceries out of the cabinets in the kitchen, I started putting together a snack tray for Whitley and Bec’s son.
“Whitley!” I called out for her, waiting for the pitter-patter of her feet across the hardwood floor.
Nothing.
“Whit?” Abandoning the kitchen, I headed down the hallway to her room.
“Shh, Cheeto.” Her muffled voice filtered under the door. “Don’t tell Mommy, or I’ll get in trouble.”
Don’t tell Mommy what?
Choosing not to knock, I waited to hear more of what she was doing.
“Do you like dino nuggies, too, Cheeto? I love dino nuggies.”
Sure enough, the sound of a kitten gobbling chicken followed, and I finally opened her bedroom door.
“Whit, what are you doing?” Placing my hands on my hips, I watched in amusement as she tried to hide the Ziploc bag of cold chicken nuggets leftover from last night’s dinner.
“Nothing!” She flashed me her best innocent smile, but the breading crumbs on the floor and the kitten licking his chops gave her away.
“Cheeto gets kitten food. Human food will make him sick,” I explained. “I don’t want him to get a stomach ache, so please don’t feed him more chicken nuggets, okay?”
“Okay, Mommy. I’m sorry.”
My heart swelled in my chest, and I sat down on the floor next to her. “You’re taking good care of him. How about I show you how I feed him his kibble later, yeah?”
“Yeah!”
“Hey, so one of Mommy’s new friends is bringing her son over for a playdate. Can you get dressed for me? You and Noah can play outside with Cheeto.”
She pouted, crossing her arms in defiance. “I don’t want to play with Noah. Boys stink.”
I couldn’t hold back a laugh in time, and Whitley tilted her head.
“What’s so funny?” Her eyebrows pinched together as her mouth turned down into a frown.
“Nothing. You might like Noah. Will you at least give him a chance? I bet he’s going to love Cheeto.”
Her eyes watered, and she reached for the kitten. “He’s going to take him away from me?”
“No, no. Cheeto is going to stay here, but maybe Noah can play with him too while he’s here.”
“I don’t want him to play with Cheeto. Cheeto is my kitty.”
I inhaled a deep breath, keeping myself calm and collected. “Yes, Cheeto is your kitten. Let’s get dressed, now, yeah?”
Whitley grumbled, but still got to her feet, letting me dress her in denim shorts and a yellow top.
By the time the doorbell rang, I had barely finished putting together the snack plate.
“Coming!”
I opened the front door to a smiling Bec and a little boy who was the spitting image of her, with shaggy brown hair and the same hazel eyes.
“This house is adorable!” Bec exclaimed, pulling me into a hug. “I’ve been jealous since I pulled onto your road.”
“I got really lucky. If Jake hadn’t offered to let me stay here, we’d probably be living out of a hotel room.”
Her lips curled up into a grin, her eyes reflecting a suggestive tone. “Yes, yes, you are. Very lucky.”
Heat rushed into my cheeks, and I changed the subject, grateful that Jake wasn’t home. The last thing I needed was Bec knocking on his door to meet him. “I made a snack plate. Come on in.”
“Ooh, I love a good snack plate.”
“Whit! Come out to the living room, please!” I called for my daughter.
A few moments later, her head poked around the corner of the hallway, a guarded expression plastered on her face. The kitten was tucked in her arms, sleeping peacefully.
“Kitty!” Noah shrieked when he saw the orange bundle, and he started to approach Whitley with a little more enthusiasm than my daughter probably would have liked.
“No!” she screamed before running down the hallway. A few seconds later, her bedroom door slammed shut.
I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, looking over at Bec. “We’re still working on sharing the kitten.”
“Don’t worry about it. Noah and I went over personal space and how we need to ask before petting people’s animals, but apparently that all went out the window the moment we got here.” She offered me an apologetic glance, but I waved her off.
“I also told Whitley she needed to share the kitten, but she seems to think he’ll be taken away from her.”
“Oh, she’s so sweet,” Bec cooed.
I snorted, rolling my eyes. “She is right now. No promises she won’t call me a toe or something. Or threaten to take away my birthday. That’s something I’ve been hearing a lot lately.”
Bec let out a soft giggle. “I may not have to deal with as much sass, but I have to worry about him climbing the walls or trying to ride his scooter around the entire neighborhood without telling me. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten calls that Noah is riding around without me knowing.
Or I’ll walk out into the living room and the front door will be wide open and he’s just gone.
” She paused, covering her mouth with a hand.
“Oh, gosh, I probably sound like a horrible mom.”
“No. Don’t worry. These four- and five-year-olds are surprisingly troublemakers. I feel like if I don’t have an eye on her for two seconds, she’s already disappeared and gotten into something.”
“Oh, the joys of children.”
“Do you want something to drink?” I offered. “I have wine or soda or water.”
“Is it irresponsible to have a glass of wine at one o’clock in the afternoon?”
I shook my head. “Trust me, there’s days where I feel like I need one even earlier. I won’t judge.”
“Definitely wine, then.”
After I poured us glasses, I managed to coax Whitley out of her room with Cheeto. The two of us ushered the kids out to the front lawn with the kitten and settled on the front porch with our wine.
A few moments of silence passed as we watched the kids play with Cheeto but then Bec blurted, “Okay, so I don’t mean to beat a dead horse here, but I just need to get a couple things straight.”
I took a long sip of my drink, mentally preparing myself for whatever conversation we were going to have. “All right.”
“Jake.”
I huffed out a breath, knowing that was exactly what she was going to bring up. “What about Jake?”
“I think I’m just confused. So, he was your younger brother’s college roommate, and that’s how you met, right?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“But you had a boyfriend, Adam. Your ex-husband.”
“Yep. Where is this going?” I asked.
She waved me off. “Hang on. I’m just trying to figure something out, yeah?
You and Adam get a divorce, and you move back to Silver Creek.
Jake, your brother’s best friend, who you more or less didn’t have much of a relationship with over the last ten, eleven years, offers to let you stay in his guest house.
And then he writes you a list of things for you to reinvent yourself. ”
“That is what happened,” I confirmed.
“And you don’t think this man is deeply in love with you despite all of that?”
A heavy sigh fell from my lips. “I mean, we saw each other every so often in the last nine years since I got married, but it wasn’t like we were friends. We barely knew each other.”
That wasn’t entirely the truth. Adam may have made me delete Jake’s number and cut off contact with most of the people of my past, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t keeping up with Jake’s life.
I saw every time he’d win at a rodeo and when he made the NFR last year.
With his proximity to Colter, it was impossible to completely ignore him.
I knew him, but I couldn’t quite wrap my head around the idea that he could be in love with me when he didn’t really know this version of me. Other than what he saw on the sidelines of my life.
“I don’t know, Cait.” Bec broke me out of my thoughts. “Maybe I just have the wrong friends, but I find it hard to believe that someone who shows up for you so consistently doesn’t have any kind of romantic feelings for you.”
The air between us was still for a moment; I was unable to figure out what to say.
“Let me ask you something,” she spoke again. “Do you have feelings for him?”
My eyes averted to the ground, lip pulled between my teeth.
“That’s what I thought,” Bec said, my silence enough of an answer for her. “What are you afraid of?”
A lot of things, I thought.
Rejection. Getting hurt again and it affecting not just me, but also Whitley. And in a way, I was scared of being seen so wholly. For the last ten years, I’d almost felt like a spectator in my own life. Being careful. Being what everyone expected me to be.
But in the last few weeks, and even the last few years, Jake had shown up for me in ways that not many other people in my life had. He’d seen through every mask I’d put on, every wall I’d tried to build to keep him at an arm’s length.
Maybe Bec had a point. I’d convinced myself it was impossible that the romantic feelings I’d felt—and pushed down—were reciprocated, but maybe they were. And maybe I owed it to myself to at least give it a shot.
“Just some food for thought,” Bec interjected.