Page 49 of Moonshine Kiss
Bowie dove like a receiver stretching for the game-winning touchdown pass. He landed hard with an “ooof.”
I tiptoed through the residual snow and peered over the fence.
“Got ‘im.” Bowie held Eddie up triumphantly by the scruff of the neck. Eddie’s front feet stretched out in front of him uselessly. He looked thoroughly disgruntled. Bowie was wet and muddy down the entire left side of his body.
I couldn’t help it. They made a ridiculous picture. The laugh escaped before I could pull it back.
“Happy to entertain,” Bowie smirked, cuddling Eddie to his chest. Eddie’s ears were down, and his tail twitched, but he submitted to the head scruffing Bowie doled out. I didn’t blame him. Bowie’s hands always did look so…competent.
We met at the fence.
“Gave up on men, huh?” Bowie asked as I leaned in to take the cat from him.
Our hands got tangled up as Eddie tried to squirm his way loose and those competent hands were smashed right up against my breasts. Why hadn’t I put on a bra? Bowie’s jaw was clenched, his eyes on the struggling cat pinned between us. The rough edge of the fence dug into my stomach. The ground was freezing under my naked feet. I had at least eight cat claws embedded in my skin and all I could feel was Bowie’s hands.
“Sorry,” he muttered to me as we wrestled.
Oh, holy hell. All those years of adolescent fantasies andthiswas how Bowie Bodine first touched my boobs. And he apologized. Real life was stupid and unfair. In desperation, I grappled my stupid, unfair cat out of Bowie’s arms and stepped back. I slipped on an icy chunk of slush and almost went down, but I recovered just as he reached over the fence to grab me.
“I’m good. I’m good,” I said, taking another hasty step backward.
My face had to be six shades of tomato judging by how hot my cheeks felt.
“You sure?” Bowie asked, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweat pants. Was it my imagination or was that a very clear penis impression in his pants?
Oh, Lord. I was seven shades of tomato now. I looked like Merl’s farm stand in July.
“Yep. Good. Thanks.” I ran for my back porch with numb feet and flaming face.
George was sitting neat as you please in the open back door. His tail was curled around his feet, the tip flicking to an unheard beat. He yawned as I stumbled up the porch steps.
“Don’t you even think about it,” I grumbled to him, shoving both cats inside and slamming the door on Bowie’s gaze.
24
Bowie
She’d given up on men. I should be popping a bottle of champagne right now in celebration. I’d never have to watch her climb into some guy’s car all dolled up for a night out again. Never overhear her talking about dates with Scarlett. I wouldn’t have to deal with hearing the sounds of a happy relationship through the thin walls that separated us.
But giving up on men included me, too. Sure, I’d taken myself out of that game a long time ago. But there was a part of me—a big part—that had hoped Cass would find a way to put it back on the table someday.
I wondered what it was exactly that had sent her into cat lady exploration. The dinner, the dance we’d shared, had been…nice.
My damn traitor of a cock stirred under the sheets remembering the feel of Cassidy pressed against me. I lost count of the thousands of hard-ons I’d gotten thanks to her. It was unnatural, the way one woman could turn me to granite in seconds all without ever really touching me.
I yawned, scrubbed my hands over my face, and prayed for sleep. Sleepless nights due to my next-door neighbor were an unfortunate and common occurrence.
The shriek brought me rocketing out of bed. I was still groggy when my feet hit the cold floor. But the adrenaline coursing through my body was shouting its message: Cassidy was in danger.
If that fucker with the toothpick from dinner the other night showed up at her house I was gonna—
She screamed again, and I heard a thud. I vaulted over my bed and sprinted for the hallway. The door that separated our spaces didn’t stand a chance. I don’t know if I kicked it in or how I managed it, but I found myself staggering through an open door and into Cassidy’s bedroom.
We faced each other on opposite sides of her rumpled bed. Her eyes were wild, her hair a disaster. And she was completely fucking naked.
I didn’t think it was possible, not with the fight instinct firing my every synapse, but I went stone hard so fast I almost passed out.
“Bowie!” she screeched, and something flappy dive-bombed me.
