Holly should have been happy. The lawyer had deemed the Johansen contract good, and the meeting with Coraline had gone better than expected. Nicole had seemed pleased when they left, and had even insisted that Holly was the perfect designer for the wedding.
So now she sat at her kitchen table with her laptop open and a notebook full of ideas. Surprisingly, it had all come together fairly quickly. The vineyard had been the key; that and a photo of Coraline with her fiancé that Holly had seen at Miranda’s house.
Coraline and Donald had met in Italy and attended a wine tasting at a vineyard for their first date. The wedding dress Miranda had designed was the clincher. It was a classic design—a tight-fitting dress made of satin with sheer net over the back with cloth-covered buttons. The bottom had a slight flare like a mermaid style. Miranda explained that she had kept the dress simple, to fit in with Coraline’s ever-changing themes. Holly planned to suggest that Coraline wear a veil with Italian lace to help pull the dress into the theme.
An outdoor Tuscan-themed wedding could work perfectly with the venue, the dress, and the bride’s surprising sentimentality when she discussed her first date with her fiancé. But, just as importantly, Holly was certain she could pull it off in the three-week time frame. And it would photograph well for both the wedding photos and the magazine spread.
If Miranda lived up to her end of the bargain of keeping Coraline from changing her mind after she’d given her approval, and Nicole remained happy, this could end up being an amazing opportunity.
So she had no reason to be sitting at her kitchen table feeling unsettled. Especially when her unease had nothing to do with her job and everything to do with the guy next door.
Melanie had come through on her end and made pasta salad and pita sandwiches, placing them on their nicest Target plate. Not only could Mel cook, but she styled food as well. She was definitely wasting her talents as a bartender. But Holly couldn’t quite bring herself to take the plate next door.
She gulped down the rest of her wine as her practicality warred with some deep, dark desire. But desire for what, exactly? A relationship? A romp? She didn’t know him well enough to want a relationship with him, which meant this yearning had to be chemistry. That was a good thing, right? She’d never felt it with anyone else before, and honestly, who knew if she ever would again. Her friends—who had all gotten married and were having kids—used to talk about how a guy would make them weak in the knees, but that had never happened to Holly until Kevin.
And damned if she wasn’t curious about what else he could make her feel.
Before she could change her mind, she grabbed the plate and marched over to his house, knocking on the door. As she waited, she glanced over at the driveway and realized his car wasn’t there.
A hot guy like Kevin didn’t stay home on Friday nights.
Feeling like a fool, she went back home and poured another glass of wine before she sat at her dining room table, photos of bouquets and wedding cakes spread around like scattered flower-girl petals. For the first time she allowed herself to admit her discontent. She wanted to experience the happiness that filled her wedding couples. She didn’t even need her own happily-ever-after. She was willing to try a happily-for-now.
Killer started barking, pawing at the front window. Pushing out a sigh, Holly went to investigate. What if someone was breaking into one of the neighbors’ cars? Or, worse, into their house?
At first she couldn’t see what Killer was barking at, and then she saw an older SUV parked in Kevin’s driveway. The overgrown trees blocked part of her view, but she saw a man walking to the front porch and a woman in a loose-fitting dress following behind. Did he have a girlfriend?
Unable to stop herself, she opened the front door and moved to a wicker chair on her small front porch. She could see two figures in front of Kevin’s door, embracing. Then the woman went down the steps and stood at the bottom, turning back to him before she walked back to her car, and Holly suddenly realized she had just turned into a stalker. She was literally spying on her neighbor.
That man was screwing with her head.
She went inside and stared at the images on her table. For the first time ever, she couldn’t get excited about her job. She couldn’t work on celebrating someone else’s love when she was overcome with a loneliness she’d ignored for too long.
Holly grabbed her wineglass, then called the dog. “Killer, let’s go outside.” Then, as an afterthought, she grabbed the box of wine and headed out the back door.
The eager dog bolted past her on the way out. Holly planted herself in a chair, dangling her feet into the wading pool. It was too hot to be outside, but she needed her Zen spot and the water helped cool her off. She finished her half-empty glass, then poured another.
Who was she tonight?
Leaning her head back against the chair, she closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of the roses and the honeysuckle her grandmother had planted years ago, letting her mind wander. Of course he had a girlfriend. Gorgeous guys like Kevin weren’t single. On the bright side, maybe this meant she’d unlocked some secret door to her libido. She could look for someone else.
Killer suddenly released a low growl, sounding totally unlike himself. Holly jerked upright, knocking her glass off the arm of the chair and onto her lap. Shrieking from the shock of the wine drenching her skirt, she scrambled off the chair as she realized she could only see Killer’s butt. His front half was on the other side of the fence that separated her yard from her new neighbor’s. At the same time, she heard a man shouting and then the startled shrieks of a cat.
A cat?
Killer’s growl deepened and his back legs scratched at the ground beneath him in an effort to get through the hole. “Killer! No!” she shouted, dashing toward him. “Come!”
The dog was more enticed with what was on the other side of the fence than the possibility of turkey and puffed-cheese snacks. The rising squalls of the cat seemed to encourage his efforts, and he pushed himself the rest of the way through just as she reached him.
“Shit!” a male voice shouted on the other side of the wooden privacy fence.
Killer’s growls turned to barking, and the cat now shrieked in panic.
“Killer!” She ran for the gate to the front yard, fumbling with the latch before getting it open. She didn’t wait for an invitation, just opened her neighbor’s gate and burst through.
Kevin was standing in the middle of the yard with his back to her. The dog was barking at his feet, and a small gray kitten perched on top of his shoulder, its back arched.
“Killer!” she shouted in horror and started to run for him, but Kevin turned at the sound of her voice and she froze, her heart jolting at the sight of him.
He was even more sexy than the last two times she’d seen him. How was that possible?
He studied her, too, and she realized he might not recognize her. The times he’d seen her she’d been in shorts, makeup free, and sporting a ponytail or bun. Now she was in her work clothes—minus her shoes—and her hair was down, hanging several inches below her shoulders.
The sight of the bleeding scratch on his cheek caught her attention, pushing her into action. “Oh, my God. I am so sorry!” She scooped the dog off the ground, holding him close to her side as she looked into his face. “Killer! Bad dog!”
She turned her attention to Kevin again, close enough to see that his eyes were a darker brown tonight, and they looked slightly unfocused.
The kitten on his shoulder looked panicked and dug his claws deeper into Kevin’s shoulder, making him cringe.
“I am so sorry,” Holly gushed. “Killer’s not mean, I promise. He’s so small he likes to bluff everyone.”
“I noticed that last night.” Kevin pried the cat off his shoulder, giving an additional tug to get its claws free of his blue dress shirt. He wore a tie, too, a dark gray charcoal. So he dressed up for dates. That only intrigued her even more. “I think he found someone smaller to intimidate.” He got the kitten free and held it close to his chest, the animal’s feet dangling free.
Holly’s last defense against him slipped away. The sight of the tall, strong man cradling a tiny kitten was impossible to resist.
Killer started barking again and Holly turned him around to look into his face. “Stop.”
The dog lowered his gaze and stopped barking.
“He likes turkey,” she said in response, then realized how random it sounded. “He belongs to my cousin. She trained him with deli turkey.”
“The one who made the lasagna?” When she nodded, a slight grin tipped up the corners of his mouth. “Then I might be able to overlook the attack.”
Attack? “Oh, God! Did he bite you? He’s never bitten anyone before!”
“Oh, no. Wrong choice of words. You’ll have to forgive me.” His grin turned sheepish. “I’m more than a little drunk.”
“Oh.”
He frowned as though deciding he shouldn’t have been so blunt, so she piped up. “I’m slightly tipsy myself.”
“Bad day?” he asked.
“No, actually a good one.” Probably the best she’d had with her boss since she’d first started working for her.
“So a celebration?”
She couldn’t very well tell him she’d been drinking because of him. “Yeah. You?”
“Coping skills.”
The woman had brought him home, then left him while he was drunk. Did they have a fight? It seemed rude to ask, yet she was dying to know. “Because of your girlfriend?”
He snorted. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
Because they broke up or because they weren’t together in the first place? She decided to be bold and ask—figure out her chances here—but he reached up to his cheek, gently patting the scratch.
“You need to clean that,” she said, taking a step closer to look it over, but the dog started barking again. She looked down at him. “Stop.” The dog obeyed and she continued. “Who knows what germs are in that kitten’s claws?” she said, feeling more courageous than her usual self. Thank you, wine. “We can’t have your pretty face getting eaten by flesh-eating bacteria.”
His eyes danced with amusement. “You think I have a pretty face?”
She laughed. “I find it interesting that you pick up on that part of the sentence and not the flesh-eating bacteria.”
“Does your dog always obey you?”
“Obviously not, or he wouldn’t have gotten back here in the first place.”
The amusement in his eyes faded, turning dark and sultry. “I’m glad he did.”
She looked away, suddenly unsure of herself. But his face was still bleeding and needed attention and, honestly, it was her fault. If she’d been paying attention, Killer might not have gotten through the fence and scared his cat. “Do you have a first aid kit in your house?”
He laughed. “I don’t have shit in my house.”
“So that’s a no?” She grinned. “Come over to mine and let me clean you up.”
He looked uncertain, and she realized she may have overstepped her bounds.
“You don’t have to…I…”
His eyes found hers. “I don’t want to leave the cat.” He lifted it slightly. “I’ve been gone all day and just got home and now it’s shaking. …” His voice trailed off, then he laughed. “If my friends could hear me now. I think this is the literal definition of pussy whipped.”
Her cheeks heated up and he stared at her in amazement. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Look so sexy and so innocent at the same time.”
Her blush deepened, but she told herself that he was drunk and didn’t know what he was saying. “You can bring your kitten with you, if you want. Or I can bring the first aid kit over here.”
“What about your dog?”
“If he continues to terrorize the cat, then I’ll shut him into Mel’s room or put him in the backyard. But I think he’ll just get used to him…or is it a her?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You don’t know if it’s a boy or girl?”
He looked embarrassed. “I can’t tell.”
She laughed. “The vet didn’t tell you?”
His eyes widened. “Shit. I suppose I need to make an appointment.” When he saw her surprise, he said, “The kitten came with the house.”
“You negotiated it into the contract?”
“No, I found it under the front porch.”
Realization hit her. “Oh. The hole.”
He sighed. “The hole.”
“It was trapped down there? Poor baby.” But his actions told her a lot about his character, even if the way he protectively held it now hadn’t. An unexpected heat washed through her, pooling in her core, and she told herself it was the alcohol. “Bring the cat and I’ll clean you up.”
She didn’t give him a chance to answer, just turned around and headed to her house, leaving him to follow or not.