Page 73 of Make Her Mine

I frown and turn toward it.

Big green eyes blink back at me from my kitchen table.

I immediately look at Harlow.

“Why is there a cat on my kitchen table?”

She smiles and moves toward the animal. “We’re fostering them.”

“We’re what? Them?” I ask the questions in quick succession as they occur to me.

“There are three. But the other two are a little skittish. One is under our bed and the other is on the bed but hisses when I go in there.”

“Three? Fostering? Our bed?” Again, the questions tumble out in the order they flip through my mind.

“Well, I’m not going to the guest room now that I’ve slept so well in your bed. And I assume you’re not.” She shrugs and picks the cat up, nuzzling her face into its fur. “And yes, three. They lived together so we can’t break them up. But we’re just keeping them until Delaney can find homes for them. But it might take a while since Delaney and Tucker have the kids there and they’ve got a lot going on. These are Delores Landers’ cats.”

The cat blinks at me as I process the information.

Delaney and Tucker were taking care of these cats since Delores passed away about four days ago. But they are also helping one of their sons with his two kids, so finding homes for the cats is low on their list of priorities.

Got it. That all makes sense.

Of course, they need to focus on Jack and his kids. Jack was widowed about six months ago. He’s moved back to Sapphire Falls to regroup and because he needed help with his two heartbroken children. Delaney and Tucker took him and his three brothers in when their parents—Delaney’s sister and her husband—died when Jack was only six. It’s a fucking tragedy that Delaney, Tucker, and Jack are all now doing this again. But of course this is where Jack and his kids belong.

Obviously, I’ll help with Delores’s cats. I would have even if there weren’t extra kids at the Bennett farm.

But…

I study Harlow, who is now softly cooing to the cat in her arms.

I think about the pillows, candles, and books in my living room. I think about Harlow saying she’s going to be sleeping in my bed with me from now on.

I like that part a lot. I also realize there is a very good chance that my bed now has new sheets and pillows. I’m ninety percent sure my bathroom has new towels and shower gel and lotion that now smells like Harlow. I am also cooking something for her I’ve never done before. And I’m now fostering three cats.

And I understand completely what’s going on.

She’s trying to annoy me.

That’s…funny. And interesting.

Because she’s failing miserably.

“I think you should know that I really like the way that candle smells.”

Harlow looks at me. This was clearly not what she was expecting me to say.

“You do?”

“I do. And the pillows look nice.”

She frowns. “You always say how cluttered my house looks.”

I step closer to her and run my hand over the cat’s head. It’s purring. I’d be fucking purring if I was nestled against Harlow’s breasts too.

“I do say that,” I agree. “Because I’m kind of an ass sometimes. At least when it comes to you. The truth is your house is very cozy. Very comfortable. Very…you.”

Her frown deepens.

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