Page 15 of Forty and Fighting Dirty
“Does your memory wipe itself every two hours or something? You don’t remember barging into the coffee shop and cutting in front of a line of people?”
“I own the place! They know to expect me every morning!”
“I don’t care!”
He huffed, the air puffing out in a white cloud in front of his face. Then he clicked his tongue. “You’re lucky I don’t have time to hire someone new.”
“And you’re lucky I’m desperate for a job and have two young kids to support.”
His smile was a grimace. “I guess we both need each other, don’t we?”
“For now.”
The cat yowled, clearly upset that his beloved human wasn’t paying attention to it. Rhett narrowed his eyes at what I assumed was a completely unbothered cat living his best life somewhere in the vicinity of my boss’s feet. “I’m calling animal control on you.”
“So you’re really going to leave the cat here?”
Those near-black eyes snapped up toward me again. “What else am I supposed to do with him?”
“He’shurt. He’s been limping. You should bring him to the vet.”
“You want me to bring this stray cat to the vet? An animal that keeps leaving dead things in my path?”
I blinked at him. He blinked right back. I spread my palms. “Yes!”
“Absolutely not. I don’t want to encourage it.”
“Encourage it to do what?”
“Tostay.” The word snapped out of him with a level of vitriol that made me rock back on my heels.
I crossed my arms and popped a brow. “So you’re not the hero the whole town thinks you are, huh.”
His jaw clenched, and something that looked almost like panic flitted across his gaze. Then his expression shuttered. “Apparently not.”
“You’d really leave a helpless animal here to fend for itself with an injured paw?”
“That injured paw doesn’t seem to be holding it back from doing anything.” The sound of a loud purr rumbled from his side of the truck, and Rhett let out the mother of all exasperated sighs.
“The vet will scan it for a chip. Maybe the cat has loving owners who are missing him,” I pointed out.
“I find that highly unlikely.” Rhett put his hands on his hips and looked down at the ground, where I assumed the cat was blinking up at him with besotted green eyes.
This was the best day of my life. My boss had been so in control, so arrogant as the big man around town earlier today,and he was being brought to his knees by a cat. An orange cat. Aninjuredorange cat.
“Maybeyoushould take the cat to the vet,” he suggested, finally tearing his gaze away from the animal to look at me. “And then if there are no loving, heartbroken owners,youcan take the cat home.”
“My lease doesn’t allow pets,” I said. “Otherwise, I would. My boys would love that.”
Rhett sighed in defeat. He opened his door, picked up the cat, and deposited the orange tabby in the back seat of the cab in a movement that seemed careless, but still protected the cat’s injured paw.
I watched him, wondering exactly what kind of man Rhett Baldwin was. Was he the hero of the town who’d come back to inject new industry into the area? The heartless, rude man who marched ahead of long lineups to demand his due?
Or was he a grump who’d been reluctantly adopted by a stray cat?
I could tell Rhett hid his true self from the people around him. I had a sixth sense for that now—Jacob had taught me to listen to my instincts, even when faced with a beautiful man full of charisma and charm. But why? What was Rhett hiding?
Animals could tell the truth about people, couldn’t they? What did this cat see in Rhett that I couldn’t?
