It was full dark when the buzzer went off.

I nearly jumped out of my socks when it happened. With a rapidly pounding heart and breaths coming in short gasps, I questioned my decision to send the staff home. I’d only wanted to be alone. To have some peace. To not worry about who was looking at me, and what they might (or might not) see.

I got what I wanted.

Solitude.

And now someone was buzzing down from the gate, wanting onto my property.

I made the decision to ignore it. I didn’t invite anyone over, so therefore, they weren’t welcome and shouldn’t be here. That meant the gate stayed locked.

It buzzed again.

And then again.

The fourth time, it was for an extended amount of time.

I was good and irritated when I got up and marched over to the command panel installed on the wall. After a few quick taps, I had the camera feed from the gate pulled up.

I frowned when I saw the giant black SUV with bright, glaring headlights.

I hit a button and spoke. “What?” I demanded, hoping I sounded like I had a gun. A big one.

“‘Bout time! Geez, I thought you were in there passed out or dead. Good thing you answered or we would have both been embarrassed when the cops got here.”

My mouth went slack. His was the last voice I expected to come out of the heavily tinted windows. I barely knew him, but he was the only person I’d met that could go on and on in such a ridiculous way.

“Go away, Nate,” I intoned, released the button, and started to retreat.

The buzzer went off again. And then again.

Racing back over, I yelled into it, “Stop doing that!”

“I have to pee!” he whined.

I blew out a frustrated breath. “Pee in the bushes, then!”

He gasped. “That’s unsanitary.”

I rolled my eyes. “Like you care.”

All the charm in his voice evaporated. “Open the gate, Aerie,” Nate intoned.

A shiver worked its way up my spine, and I wanted to open the gate. The intensity of that caught me off guard. The sudden intensity of him.

I wanted to be alone.

Didn’t I?

I punched in a code and watched on the monitor as the large wooden gate swung open. The second it was wide enough for the SUV, it drove through and out of sight. My stomach fluttered as I watched the gate close.

Pressing a hand to my middle, I blew out a breath. The softness of my sweater made me glance down. I grimaced instantly, a note of panic washing over me. Oh my God! I looked a mess! Having alone time meant being comfortable.

Being comfortable = wearing whatever I wanted.

And what I wanted was to wear no pants.

Or makeup. Or a bra… Hell. I slapped my hand over my head and felt around my hair. Crap. I hadn’t even brushed it.

As I stood there and nearly hyperventilated about how my appearance was lacking, I realized something. This was stupid.

I didn’t want him here. This was my house. I could dress (or not dress) however I wanted. And furthermore, he wasn’t staying!

Upon that internal declaration, I marched out of the sunken living room, away from the welcoming fireplace, my book, and blanket, toward the front entry. Flipping on the large overhead fixture that looked like a lantern, the entire entryway lit up. Light spilled out all the front windows and stretched across the wooden decking that led to the wide steps leading to the front door.

Absentmindedly, I pulled at the oversized, baby-pink sweater, making sure it was covering my bottom. It was all I had on, except for panties and a pair of chunky-knit gray knee socks.

Headlights from his SUV bounced around out front. I opened the wood and glass front door and stepped outside. Night air brushed over the backs of my thighs and my knees. Shivering a bit, I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at the car.

The engine shut off and lights went out, leaving us with only the light from the interior of the foyer.

“Am I even still in the United States?” Nate quipped, getting out.

“The drive isn’t that bad,” I spat.

He walked around to the front of the car. I could practically taste the smart-alecky remark he was ready to deliver. Then he looked up. Did a double take.

No words passed his lips.

“What are you looking at?” I said, hands on hips, suddenly very shy about my unkempt appearance.

“You forgot your pants,” he replied, eyes lingering on my legs. Then as if by sheer force, his gaze averted to his feet.

Something about that reaction totally endeared him to me. Instead of staring, making a lewd comment, or even mocking my lack of put-togetherness, he looked away. Like he was shy. Like he wanted to respect me.

I didn’t feel the cold air in that moment. Not at all.

It scared the shit out of me.

“I didn’t forget,” I replied, tart. “I thought I was going to be alone.”

He looked up. “They didn’t tell you I was coming?” The wind shifted again, blowing his deep-red locks onto his forehead.

I anticipated the action of him pushing it out of his face, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept his left arm anchored at his middle.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “You aren’t staying.”

“I’m pretty sure the closest hotel is like in the next state.” His arm moved, and then he jolted. “Ow!”

I opened my mouth to ask him what the hell he was doing, but he yelled again.

“Shit!” Nate squirmed, trying to get away from whatever his issue was but at the same time, still keeping his arms close around his middle, as if he were holding something.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to pull right now, but it’s not going to work. Might as well get back in that ride and be gone.”

Nate was still wiggling around and glanced up. “Excuse me?”

I watched, part incredulous, as he spun, putting his back to me, and hunched forward. I leaned up on my tiptoes, wondering what on earth he was doing, but from my position, I couldn’t see. I heard him, though.

“I know we just met and all, but, dude, I thought we had an understanding.” Then… “I’m pretty sure I’m bleeding. Not cool.”

“Look, I know you’re a weird guy…” I began. “But this is weird, even for you.”

He finished what he was doing, then straightened, but didn’t turn around. “Sure I can’t stay?” he asked.

“Negative.”

He spun. “What about this little guy?”

I gasped and rushed down the stairs. “Oh my God,” I said, trying to keep myself from squeeing and scaring what Nate had just produced.

It was a kitten. A small, fluffy little thing. He was orange with bright-blue eyes and a tiny little head.

My hand moved out, hovering near where he was tucked against Nate’s chest. I wanted to stroke his fur so much, to see if it was as soft as it appeared.

“Where did you get her?” I asked.

“It’s a boy. I looked.”

My eyes shot up to his, and he grinned. My God, his eyes were so green. And this close, I could see some light-red stubble lining his jaw. He was rumpled, as though he’d been traveling all day to get here.

I tore my gaze away from him and back to the little bundle in his arms. The kitten was squished against him, peering at me like he wasn’t so sure if I was good or bad.

“Where did you get him?” I corrected.

Nate hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “A while back. On that damn Oregon Trail I had to drive down to get here.”

I glanced up. “You saw him and stopped the car?”

“No, I had a flat. When I stopped to change it, I heard him crying in the bushes.”

I made a stricken sound without even trying and reached for the kitten. “You poor little baby! You must be freezing.” Nate surrendered the cat instantly, and I cuddled him close to my chest. His tiny little claws flexed into my sweater and gripped on, but I didn’t mind.

He was soft.

“Let’s get you inside,” I crooned. “Poor baby.”

I was almost to the front door when Nate called out, “Hey! What about me? I’m cold, too!”

I stopped and glanced over my shoulder and sighed loudly. “Fine. Come on.”

I heard him scrambling up the stairs behind me, but I didn’t wait. I just went on into the house, leaving the door open for him. I walked back down into the sunken living room where the glow from the fire and a single lamp illuminated the room. I sank down into the oversized chair I’d been reading in and looked down at the kitten.

He meowed at me. I made a sound and stroked his fur. “Here we go,” I murmured and lifted the blanket, tucking it around him like he was a baby.

He began to purr almost immediately.

Movement across the room pulled my eyes up. Nate was standing just inside the room, watching me. I couldn’t make out the expression he wore because it was more shadowed where he stood. “I guess you like cats,” was all he said.

“I like all animals.”

“Figured you might.”

I tilted my head. “Why?”

He shrugged and moved across the room toward me.

“I need to get him some food. And water. He’s probably starved.”

“Probably.”

His voice was very near, but not much louder than before. That intensity I felt earlier emanated off him in waves. It was almost warmer than the heat coming off the fire.

I looked up. He was so close I had to tip my chin back to meet his eyes. I swallowed thickly, not sure what to say. What to do.

Nate crouched in front of the chair. His body was so close it almost bumped my knees. He wasn’t looking at me, though, but the cat. His long fingers stroked over the kitten, and I noticed the bright-red scratches all over the back of his hand and giggled.

Nate glanced up swiftly, then down at his hand. “Feisty little fella.”

“Does he have a name?” I asked, unable to pull my eyes away from his face. His irises were so green. So rare.

“I’ve been calling him Cheeto.”

“Cheeto,” I echoed.

“Yeah, cause he’s orange like one.”

I laughed.

The cat squirmed, and I struggled to hold on to him. My knees brushed against Nate’s chest, and a jolt of awareness went through me. His hand shot out, palming the side of my leg as he balanced.

My teeth sank into my lower lip. Then I jerked back. “I need to get him some food,” I spoke, abrupt. My voice was like a needle popping a giant bubble.

“I’ll hold him.” Nate shifted back and stood.

I handed over little Cheeto, careful not to let our hands brush, and then practically ran from the room under the guise of finding food for the kitten.