Page 24 of Home Town

“Yeah, I know. I was there.” She knew very well what had happened.

Smart ass.

Who was this man in front of her? Because he certainly wasn’t the same one who’d gotten suspended from the ice hockey team for two games for giving a player on the opposite team a concussion with his bare fists.

What had happened to the guy who’d worn the black leather jacket and a deadly glare all through high school? Who could walk straight down the center of a crowded hallway between classes and part the sea of students like he was Moses.

He’d gone away, joined the Navy and come back a softy who cuddled kittens and built blanket forts.

And even though the demon kittens had been the bane of her existence since her arrival, she couldn’t deny how seeing him first save their lives, then cuddle them, caused a suspiciously squishy feeling in her chest.

“I’ve got a box,” she said on a huff and spun toward the stairs.

Since she had missed recycling day, something else her parents would have judged her for, they happened to have a few boxes lying around.

She’d make the kittens a damn bed. Why not? She needed the distraction. She didn’t like this new nice guy version of Corey. It was jarring. Confusing. Maybe even a little bit tempting.

Tempting was the last thing she needed him to be.

She’d had a crush all through school on the bad ass version of him. The tough guy. A villain who was as scary as he was sexy.

The guy who’d shocked the hell out of her that one summer when he’d gone from mostly ignoring her their entire lives to showing an interest that led to?—

She pushed aside the memory of what it had led to.

But he wasn’t that guy anymore?—

Nope. She wasn’t going to go there. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

One broken heart in a lifetime was enough for her. And there was no doubt in her mind, kitten cuddling aside, Corey was still and always would be to his core a heart breaker. The love ’em and leave ’em kind.

Storming to the pantry where the boxes were stacked in hopes she’d remember to drag them to the curb next week, she concentrated on this kitten bed-slash-fort she was supposed to construct.

“Can you keep them contained while I do something to block that hole under the sink so this doesn’t happen again?” he asked.

Great. Now he was going to be here even longer playing handyman and fixing the hole. Not that she wanted to do it herself or even knew how.

Fine. She’d let him fix it. Then, she supposed, she’d have to swallow her pride and thank him for all he’d done tonight. Ugh.

“Yes,” she spat out. “Their litter box and food dish are in the bathroom. I’ll lock them in there.” Suspecting Corey the cat cuddler might not like that idea, she added, “with their new box bed.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied.

Great. At least Corey was happy. But her? It would take more than a cat rescue and some wall repair to make her forget why she hated Corey Jacobs.

Chapter Twelve

“Promise me we’re never getting a cat,” Josie said fervently into the phone the moment her best friend answered and said hello.

She watched Peanut Butter and Jelly use their little talons on the edge of the kitchen cabinet door as they tried to pry it open. Apparently they were looking for another adventure in the walls.

Too bad. They weren’t going to get it. Thank God—and thanks to Corey too—that hole was blocked. Even if they got the cabinet open they weren’t going anywhere.

Ha! Take that, Satan’s minions.

“I thought you liked cats,” Bailey said, her voice sounding soft. Scratchy.

Josie hoped Bailey wasn’t getting a cold. Or laryngitis. Although, it was summer. Not exactly cold season. Maybe she’d just woken up. Josie kept forgetting the time difference. The kittens woke her every morning at dawn. East Coast dawn. But Bailey was on West Coast time, three hours earlier, and she didn’t have two hungry, noisy alarm clocks waking her.

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