Beginning with his career.
KIRBY STAYED IN bed and stared at her open palm, willing her mind to reconstruct the smudge of what used to be Easy Ride’s cell phone number. It had survived the first night and one full day, but last night’s bubble bath proved to be its undoing.
She’d committed the sequence to memory, but now the order of the numbers proved to be a moving target. A mental shell game.
When she couldn’t find any definition within the hopeless blur, she balled her hand into a fist and knocked herself on the forehead. Hard.
Maybe it was a good thing she didn’t write his number down somewhere. She didn’t need to become addicted to a man like him. Which meant she’d need to check her emotions and insecurities at the door, along with her newly reawakened carnal desire.
Once halfheartedly upright, she finagled out from under the goose-down comforter, swung her legs over the side of the bed and eased into her fuzzy leopard-print slippers. Onward to the kitchen, where the Keurig sat ready and waiting for its morning abuse.
Designer caffeine. Yet another addiction she couldn’t afford. Today could easily be a four-mug day.
She sensed Lady’s inquisitive green feline eyes watching her every move from the top of the refrigerator. Kirby retrieved a tin of moist cat food from the pantry. Lady’s warm purr couldn’t compete with a modified version of the song playing in Kirby’s head.
Baby Blue...
She wished she could get another look at those blue eyes this morning. Blue skies were out there, as well, but she couldn’t see them, either. Nothing but overcast skies.
What her loft lacked in square footage, it more than made up for in windows. Mainly, windows that overlooked a covered parking garage, the adjacent office building and the street directly below.
If only her windows opened, she wouldn’t feel so claustrophobic.
Open windows would help in other ways. The smell of shrimp in aspic this early in the morning triggered Kirby’s gag reflex. Peeling back the lid of the cat food was like unzipping a body bag containing a swamp-logged corpse. But Lady was worth the inevitable assault on the senses.
She set the plate on the floor and reached into the cabinet for the box of much-needed caffeine. “My turn now.”
Or not. The K-cups box was empty.
Crap. She’d meant to stop by the grocery store last night, but her thoughts had been consumed by something else entirely.
A caffeine deficit constituted an emergency, so she trudged the mercifully short distance to the bathroom as best she could unfueled.
She pulled her hair back into a slick ponytail, brushed her teeth and washed her face, then slipped out of her satin pajamas and into some black yoga pants and an oversized burnt-orange University of Texas jersey. Good enough for grocery shopping, especially at this early hour. The only people tooling around were...
Oh, my God. She had seen Fabian before. At one of the nearby grocery stores, although not the one she usually frequented. Who could miss the hottie in his workout attire? He always seemed too consumed with his task to realize most of the women there were ogling him. Herself included.
Chances were slim that he’d be there this morning, but it couldn’t hurt to try. Running into him outside the club might make him more comfortable to eventually open up.
“I’ll be right back,” she explained to Lady as she rushed around in search of her purse and keys.
Sure, the kitty wouldn’t understand the words, but she wanted to communicate as sweetly as possible to this particular rescue animal because she knew Lady’s history. Why people tortured black cats on Halloween was unimaginable. That’s why she’d decided to officially adopt her.
Two abused souls helping each other heal, Kirby concluded.
Another creature possessed the power to make her forget why she’d ever been sad. Fabian had been right. Easy Ride was an animal. Lion-strong and equally undomesticated, yet so enticing to touch. The mere thought of his warm hands, tender, hot mouth and scorching hardness made every inch of her flesh ache.
As soon as Lady finished licking the remainder of aspic from her plate, Kirby scooped her up for an official good-morning hug and retrieved her cell phone from the kitchen counter.
Yikes! She’d missed three calls and four texts from Reese. But an alert from her credit card company piqued her immediate interest. The Deep had issued a refund, which thrilled her in one way. Maybe Easy Ride really had wanted to make out with her after all, and didn’t see it as a job duty. In fact, the whole session was free.
But she felt the potential story slip from her fingers as easily as the valet ticket had slipped away on the dance floor.
The visit had hinted at a possible story, even though she and her friend-for-hire didn’t violate any laws. At least, not any she was aware of. She could still focus on the unsavory aspect of the business. The public gobbled up “unsavory” as easily as Lady gobbled up shrimp in aspic.
Besides, if she and Easy Ride went as far as they did within an hour, it could easily go all the way the next time. Maybe he’d even take her money. Maybe she could get in and out and wrap up the story before anything awful happened.
Awful, like being rejected. Except rejection hadn’t seemed possible the other night.
As she began to entertain how “all the way” would feel with that particular animal, someone pounded on her front door.
Lady ripped out of Kirby’s embrace, leaving a streak of scratches in her wake. No blood, thankfully, but the cat’s claws left some impressive welts.
Kirby looked out the peephole, then swung the door open.
Reese wasn’t alone. A very familiar and adorable rescue puppy stood next to her. Either the puppy had belonged to a decent owner at some point, or she was unusually self-disciplined.
Her best friend, by contrast, didn’t look quite as calm.
“I’ve been calling and texting you all night,” Reese practically screamed.
The poor thing slumped as if she hadn’t slept in ages. Her already pale skin looked totally bleached out, along with her naturally blond eyebrows and hair. If it wasn’t for her chocolate-brown eyes, she could pass for a ghost.
“I’m so sorry. Come in.”
“You won’t freakin’ believe this, Kirby. My rescue Doberman got way too excited over having a foster sibling. He just wants to play, but he doesn’t realize his strength. I tried putting the puppy in another room, but he knew she was there and wouldn’t stop whimpering. All night long.”
“Were the kennels full?”
“The ones I could reach, as were our usual foster families. Which is why I’m here.”
“Reese—”
“I know I promised not to ask again. But please help me this time. I’ll do the work in finding a suitable home. She needs food, shelter and a little tender loving care in the meantime. Nothing more.”
Kirby exhaled a deep sigh and mustered the courage to say the two-letter word that always eluded her: no.
The crazy little puppy tilted her mop of a head and looked up, and the letters voluntarily transposed and expanded into a longer word and conditional commitment.
“Only if Lady approves.”
Reese’s shoulders visibly relaxed.
“Let her loose,” Kirby said.
The puppy raced to the ottoman, straight into the black cat’s domain.