Page 21 of Heart Me Up
He glanced around the living room, then his face lit up. “Kitty!” He didn’t hesitate to kneel on the floor and greet the giant furry feline who’d been regally waiting to be noticed. “Aren’t you gorgeous?”
“That’s Mariposa.”
“Wow, I love Maine Coons. You’re a big one, aren’t you?” Instead of reaching out to pet the top of Mariposa’s head, Craig held the backs of his fingers up near her face and let her decide if she wanted to rub against him. She deemed him acceptable, and in seconds she was snuggled in Craig’s lap.
“Sorry about the cat hair.”
“Nothing I’m not used to,” he told me as he rubbed the side of his head against Mariposa’s. I could hear her purring. Mariposa liked most people, but I was surprised how glad I was that Craig was one of them.
Craig’s fingers carded through Mariposa’s dark brown fur. She melted onto his legs and her eyes went half-mast. Hussy.
“She’s gorgeous. How old is she?”
“She’s about thirteen. She’s been doing really well for her age, but she got diagnosed with diabetes a couple of months ago. The insulin is helping though.”
He nodded, scratching her chin. “Diabetes is tough. Keeping the insulin injections on a schedule must be challenging for someone with a job like yours.”
“It’s been okay, mostly. I’ve only been late with her doses a few times, and she didn’t have any reaction that I could tell. But you’re right. I do worry a lot when it happens.” I gave a laugh. “She’s not even my cat—I’m keeping her for a friend who’s on a long-term assignment with the FBI. But that’s a story for later, I guess.”
Sensing we’d be here a while, I offered him a drink again. He agreed, so I went into the kitchen to get us a couple of beers.
I popped the caps on the beers and called out, “I was thinking we could go to the new steakhouse on Spencer Street. Does that sound good to you?”
No response. “Craig?” I returned to the living room to find Craig standing with Mariposa in his arms while staring at my couch. I grimaced. I’d forgotten to warn him. “You tried to sit on it, didn’t you?”
“It looks so comfortable!” he said in a bewildered tone. “How can it look so comfortable but be so… not?”
“Yeah. It’s awful.” I explained how I’d been too busy to return it. “One day I’ll get around to replacing it, I guess.”
Craig glanced between the couch and the recliner. Shrugging, he sat on the couch and arranged Mariposa in his lap again. I handed him his beer and sat next to him on the middle cushion, reaching out to pet Mariposa as if that was why I needed to be so close.
“I was relieved you agreed to this date. I hated running out on you the other night.” I sipped my beer.
Craig glanced up from stroking Mariposa to smile at me. “I get it. I figured it was something work-related for you.” He huffed a little laugh. “Well, okay, it wasn’t myfirstthought, but it was the only logical answer.”
Crap. I put my beer down. “You thought I was ditching you deliberately? I’m so sorry.”
Craig held up a hand. “No, this is not on you. It’s something I’m working on with my therapist.” He grimaced and shifted uneasily on the couch. “Yay. Now you know I go to therapy.” He twisted his mouth. “There’s still time to get out of this date. We can say—”
“No.” I put my hand on his arm and rubbed his tensed bicep. His fingers were sunk into Mariposa’s fur but he didn’t seem to be clutching her tightly at all. “Therapy’s a good thing.” I mentally slapped myself and tried again. “I went to therapy after… an incident on the job. Lots of cops do. It helps.”
Craig’s arm relaxed beneath my fingers and I moved to rub his back. He shot his eyes toward me, then back to Mariposa in his lap. “I might as well tell you. It’s now or later.” He grimaced. I stayed silent.
Craig rubbed the side of Mariposa’s jaw with one finger. “It’s all about my ex. His name was Drew. We dated casually for about six months. I wasn’t that into him romantically, but the sex was incredible, so I kept seeing him.” He shook his head. “So stupid.”
“Hey,” I interrupted. “Everyone makes mistakes, especially in relationships. We all wear blinders.”
“Yeah, well, most blind spots don’t get your dog killed.”
I gasped. “What?”
“Sorry,” he said, grimacing. “That was harsh. I was trying to ease into the story but…” He blinked rapidly.
“It’s okay.” I reached out and took his right hand away from the cat, scooting closer so I could hold it on my leg. “Go on. But only if you want to.”
He breathed deeply and said, “I adopted Lucy as a puppy right after Greg and I started the pet resort. She was a lab mix, and she’d made it to twelve years old, which is pretty old for a larger breed dog.” His grip on my hand was getting tighter.
“Drew asked for us to be exclusive but, like I said, I wasn’t that into him. I kept telling him I wanted to keep it casual and see other people.” I really didn’t want to hear the rest of this story, but I made sure to keep my body relaxed except where I was holding Craig’s hand.
