Fan The Flames (Man Of The Month Book 3) (18 page)

“Peggy says if we keep him inside, he’ll never want to go outside. Then we don’t need to worry about losing him. But we should get him microchipped anyway.”

“Can he sleep with me?” Colleen asked.

“Yes,” Brad inserted before Scarlett could check that.

“Can he sit on the couch?”

Scarlett gave a resigned sigh. “I’m sure he’s going to be all over the house. Although we’ll need to train him to stay off the counters.”

“I’ve got a litter box out in the car and litter. Peggy recommends giving him limited range until he gets used to his new surroundings. She suggested putting the litter box in the bathroom so that way the kitten can have free rein between your and Colleen’s bedrooms for a few days. She says we’ll know when he’s ready to broaden his horizons and then we can give him the run of the house.”

“I see you have everything all figured out,” Scarlett said, watching as Colleen was already taking the kitten back upstairs. “I am not happy with you.”

Brad grinned. “You weren’t before.”

“True, but you blindsided me with a kitten.”

“And you’ve already fallen in love with it. Admit it.”

She sighed. “Fine. But couldn’t you have called? A head’s-up would have been nice.”

“Sorry. We went on call after call and by the time I got back and Peggy’d taken care of him, I figured it was too late. Oh, Peggy gave me the name of her vet. We met her at the Mayor’s Ball. Kat Saunders.”

“You do realize that had we adopted a pet from the shelter it wouldn’t have been as much money as this free cat is going to cost.”

He shrugged. Gave her another endearing grin. “No big deal. Little guy’s worth it and I told you I’d handle it.”

“I’ve got money,” Scarlett said.

“I know, but I brought it home. I’m working again tomorrow, but I can call and make an appointment.”

“I’ll do it. And you better go outside and get those cat supplies. Any accidents and you’re cleaning them.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a grin and a salute and went back out the door. A few minutes later he returned carrying a covered litter box and a thirty-five-pound yellow plastic tub of litter. “There’s more,” he told her, setting it down.

“More?”

“Yeah. Peggy gave us a scratching post and a bunch of cat toys. She and Lewis foster cats and have four of their own. The carrier is the only thing we’ll need to return.”

“That’s sweet of them. This is a lot of stuff.”

“Yeah,” he said, heading back out the door. “She says we will need a cat tower too. We have plenty of space for one.”

“Great,” Scarlett called after him. Now they were pet owners. She grabbed the litter box and hoisted the tub of litter. Used to lifting her daughter, it weighed nothing. She carried both upstairs to the en suite bathroom. Found a spot for the litter box in an out-of-the-way corner. Realized they’d need to keep a broom upstairs so that they could sweep up any loose litter that the kitten tracked onto the floor. And they’d need a supply of small trash bags in order to keep the box clean.

Brad came upstairs carrying a litter scoop, cat carrier and a thirty-inch carpeted scratching post. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Scarlett said, wondering where the heck she was going to put all that. “Put the carrier in the spare bedroom until we buy one. The post, oh, I don’t know.”

“Mommy, the kitty is climbing my curtains,” Colleen called. “He’s almost at the top. Harry! Come down!”

“Scratching post goes to Colleen’s room,” she and Brad said almost in unison. They both started laughing, and Brad lifted the carpet-covered pole and set it in the center of her room. Harry jumped down and found his scratching post. He perched atop like a giant bird, all four paws on the four-inch rounded top. He opened his mouth. Made a plaintive meow.

“He’s going to run this house,” Scarlett said, stating the inevitable.

“Yeah, but she’s happy,” Brad pointed out. Colleen was already teasing Harry with a string. He batted at it. “How about we go to the pet store later and buy some toys?”

“Let me text my mom and tell her we’re not going to make it to church,” Scarlett said. “Have you eaten?”

“No.”

She led him out of Colleen’s room. “I’ll cook something. I’ve got some sausage links and bacon. I’ll do that, toast and oatmeal. Maybe some eggs.”

“That’s a feast.”

“One you don’t deserve.” She paused at the top of the stairs. “You realize you’ve saddled us with a twenty-year commitment.”

“They live that long? Hmm, the guys didn’t tell me that.”

“I’m sure there’s a reason they conveniently forgot that fact.” She began to walk down the stairs.

“Well, he’ll grow up with her,” Brad called after her. “I never had a pet. I would have liked that.”

“Seriously?” She paused. “That’s sad. We had cats growing up.”

“No, I was deprived. If you ever don’t want him, I’ll make sure he has a home with me.”

“Thanks. Colleen’s been patient. Her friends had animals and she’d beg and beg.”

“Then maybe it’s fate. He literally walked up to us and started meowing. Most pathetic thing you’d ever seen. Do you see how skinny he is?”

“Just don’t bring any more home,” she warned, turning back to face him. She jabbed a finger into his chest as he stepped off the last stair. “You may be scared of your lieutenant, but I met him. He’s got nothing on me. Got that?”

He captured her hand. Held it in his. “Yes, ma’am. Orders received and understood.”

He let her hand go and followed her into the kitchen. Watched as she opened the refrigerator. “Here,” she called.

She removed a carton of eggs and held out the container. He took it and set the eggs on the counter. She pulled open the meat drawer and removed the sausage and bacon. Handed them to him. He set those next to the eggs.

“Get the bread out of the pantry while I find the frying pan.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Cut that out or I’ll hit you with this frying pan.”

He opened the double doors. Poked his head around so he could see her. “Violent this morning, aren’t you?”

Her hand dangled a cast-iron skillet. “You dive-bombed me with a kitten.”

“Dive-bombed? What am I, a seagull?”

“You know what I mean.”

He found the sliced bread. Shut the pantry and brought it over. “He’ll kill any mice too.”

“Mice?” She gave a small squeak.

He took the frying pan from her fingers and set it on the counter. “I’ve never seen any, or signs of any. But with these old houses, you never know.”

“Great. Thanks for that.” She took out a bowl. Cracked a few eggs and began to whip them together. Added salt and pepper. “Grab the milk, will you?”

He complied and she added some milk and whipped it into the egg mixture. She found another frying pan, put it on the stove and turned on the gas flame. She added the sausage and it began to sizzle.

Brad took a seat at the island and watched her work. She was a machine—bacon went into the microwave to cook. Bread went into the toaster. Popped up golden brown. Eggs poured into the other skillet turned into scrambled eggs. There was something homey about watching someone you liked cook. An intimacy to the act that didn’t have him wanting to run for the hills. She waved a spatula at him. “Make yourself useful and get plates out,” she told him, taking the eggs off the stove.

“Sure.” He jumped up. Did as directed. Got everything ready. “This is nice. Thanks for cooking.”

“You’re welcome. Least I can do, with you providing me this great kitchen. Did I tell you I’ve registered for college? I’ve got about a semester and a half left. I’m going back in August once Colleen goes to preschool. It’s time.”

“That’s fantastic.” He was happy for her. “I think that’s a great idea.”

“I’ve put my life on hold long enough, you know? I can finish school, get a job and still be a mom, right?”

“Right.” He didn’t see why not.

“I’m going to go get Colleen. Serve yourself some food.”

“I’ll wait.”

A few minutes later the three of them sat at the island eating breakfast, with Colleen telling them all about Harry the kitten’s antics. “He was sleeping when I left,” she told them matter-of-factly. “He’s a good kitty.”

“Well, he’ll have to go to the vet soon,” her mom said. “I’m going to make an appointment. He has to be fixed.”

“Fixed?” Colleen asked.

“That means he can’t be a daddy cat,” her mom said.

“Why not?”

“Because there are too many kittens in the world already that don’t have homes,” Scarlett said. “So Harry doesn’t need to get any girl kitty pregnant. It won’t hurt him and he’ll be home right away.”

“Okay,” Colleen said. Brad marveled at the easy way kids simply accepted things. Breakfast continued easily, with Colleen asking if she could be excused once she’d finished her food.

“Wash your hands,” her mom told her. “We’ll have to go to the pet store later.”

“I will,” Colleen promised and headed back upstairs.

“She’s a good kid,” Brad observed.

“She is.”

“Todd was a fool.” The words slid out. Brad smacked his hand across his mouth. “Sorry.”

“No, I often feel that way myself.”

“He could have had all this.” Brad gestured around the kitchen. “Should have had all this.”

“Believe me, I know,” Scarlett said. “There are times I get so mad at him for leaving us, you know? For the first six months I yelled and yelled. Waited until Colleen was asleep and punched a pillow and cursed him to the moon and back. But it does nothing. Nothing.” She drew breath. “It’s done. It’s over, and I have to focus on what’s ahead, not behind. I have to let it go or I’ll never move forward. I can get stuck in the moment, or I can pull myself up and live my life. I’m opting for the latter. I can’t wallow any longer.”

He’d stagnated himself. Understood where she was coming from. “I struggle with that. I feel as if I should have done something. I tried. Talked to him. Told him not to reenlist.”

She put her hand on his arm. “You can’t blame yourself.”

“But I do.” He wanted to tell her everything but she was standing. Moving away. His arm cooled as her touch lifted.

“Don’t. We can’t do anything so there’s no reason to rehash it. Our doing so won’t bring him back. All it does is make me sad. So come on. Help me do dishes. Let’s change topics. Lighten things up. Get to know each other like you want.”

“Okay.” They talked about this and that as he brought everything over to the counter by the sink. She scraped the dishes, ran the disposal. Her back was toward him, but suddenly he saw her tremble.

“Hey.” He reached around her and turned the water off. “What’s going on?”

She rubbed the back of her left hand across her left eye. “Nothing.”

He wrapped his arms around her. Cuddled her from behind. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought Todd up. I’m still trying to move past it myself.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s always going to be our reality.” She started the water, picked up a plate and began to rinse. “We have to learn to live with it and move on. We can’t let him come between us. I want an us. We’ll have to make peace with it.”

He slid his arms down hers, took her hands in his. Warm water washed over them. “I don’t want to be making you sad every time I’m here.”

“You don’t.” At this second he was sending other, more powerful feelings through her. He took the clean plate from her hand and set it into the sink. Scarlett trembled as desire shot through her. “I like when you’re here.”

“I like being here. But it scares me. It feels like I’m betraying him.”

Brad let the admission loose, for it was hard to concentrate on keeping secrets when he was pressed up against Scarlett’s backside. He wanted to keep holding her. Concentrate only on them. Luckily she couldn’t look into his eyes that somehow could see into his soul, read his heart’s desire.

Scarlett leaned back more. “You’re not betraying him. Life goes on and I want to feel alive again. I want passion. I don’t want to have died too, you know? I deserve more.”

He understood that. Told her what she wanted to hear. “I want you.”

Scarlett felt his breath hot in her ear, and she could feel the proof of his desire pressed into her backside.

“Touch me.” She swiveled her hand and grabbed his. Moved his fingertips to her lips and kissed his wet skin. She drew his fingers into her mouth so she could suck each digit in turn. Behind her, she heard him groan. She was in the driver’s seat, she knew that, so she took his right hand from her mouth and guided it to the V of her shirt. Directed said hand under the fabric to her left breast. Five fingers caressed her breast and pebbled the nipple.

His leg urged hers open, and he slid his knee in between. The water in the sink ran, providing unheeded background noise. His left hand came to her mouth and she kissed his fingertips. Then he took that hand and plunged it underneath her front waistband, finding her folds. Her head fell back against his chest and she gasped. Wanted his lips on hers. But instead, he kissed her neck. Rolled her nipple between his fingers. Used his other hand to rub slick circles into her heated wetness.

She was going to explode. She spread her legs wider, arched her back so he could slip a finger inside, then another. Her breath grew heavier and faster as an orgasm began to build. She rode his hand hard and she twisted, making him take her mouth in his. He kissed her until she shattered, the orgasm sending waves of pleasure through her. Then the aftershocks added delightful, secondary quivers until her toes slowly uncurled. He slid his hands under the running water. Turned it off. Held her close. “I needed that,” she told him. She wanted to turn, but instead, her backside remained pressed to his front.

“I know.” His lips kissed her neck.

“I want more.”

“I know. Me too. I can’t fight it.” He lowered his lips. Allowed himself to kiss her. “I just don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered in between nibbles. “I’d never forgive myself.”

“I won’t let you,” she told him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He ran a finger down her throat and across the fabric of the breast he’d caressed.

With a boldness he hadn’t known she possessed, Scarlett reached into her bra and removed her breast. It lay there exposed in her hand, surrounded by the baby-blue fabric of her shirt. When had she become the seductress? She ran her thumb over the nipple and then reached for his head. Brought it to her breast. Gave a small cry that was music to his ears as he took her into his mouth.