“I heard you tell me to come in,” I say as I place my things on the counter and cross my arms. She’s fully clothed, albeit a bit disheveled, so I fail to see the big deal.

“I didn’t say ‘come in;’ I said ‘coming,’” she huffs as she meets me in the kitchen. “There’s a difference, you know.”

I raise my hands defensively and bow my head. “My bad. I misunderstood, okay? Can we untwist the panties and move on to the fun stuff? Oh, wait, untwisting the panties could be a pretty good time, too, don’t you think?”

I nod slowly and shrug, and that finally coaxes a tiny giggle from her. Her eyes dart from me to the back of the house. I’m not sure why, but she seems more nervous than usual.

Something’s off.

“Is everything all right, Tink?” I ask, eyeing her suspiciously.

She nods nervously and smiles. I take a few steps toward the hallway, and she jumps in front of me and tugs my arm, pulling me back to the kitchen.

“Let’s take a look at the samples you brought. I’m so psyched about my countertops!” Her voice is pitchy and not at all fairy-like today.

I don’t like it one bit. What, or who, the fuck is back there? It can’t be…

A strange squeal comes from the back of the house, and Celia throws her arms up at the same time. “So psyched!” she screeches.

“What was that noise?”

“What noise?”

“You know the noise, Celia. The squeal from down the hallway.”

She taps my shoulder and pushes back toward the counter. “That was me, silly. I tend to get a bit screechy when I’m excited.”

I give her my best side-eye, but she just smiles and bats her eyelashes. I lay out the sample choices for her, and she runs her hand over each one.

“Right,” I say as I clear my throat. “So I have a few different things for you to choose from. You could choose a tile, if you want, or corian. We could also put in a butcher block countertop or granite, but we’d need go to the marble and granite shop to look at those choices.”

“Granite? Don’t you think that’s a little pricey for a rental house? I don’t want you to spend that kind of money…”

“Stop. Don’t worry about it for a second, because I’m not. I want you to have exactly what you want,” I say, deciding to omit the part about “So you won’t ever want to leave.” Yeah, I’ll keep that shit to myself.

Celia tips her head and smiles, just as I hear scratching coming from the end of the hallway. I turn in the direction of the noise just as Celia starts scratching and pawing at the tile samples.

“All of them,” she shouts as she tosses the sample boards around the counter with lots of clanking. “I love them all. I’ll never be able to choose.”

I put my hands on my hips and stay silent. I stare her down, waiting for her to meet my eyes. Once she stops her little fit, she clasps her hands and watches me through lowered lashes. I feel the adrenaline coursing through my body, making my heart pound and the veins in my temples throb.

Does she have a fucking guy back there? Is the volunteer from the speed dating fiasco paying her a visit? We’ve made no promises, and she owes me no explanations, but fuck that. Just the idea causes murderous thoughts to scroll through my head. She may not know it yet—it may take a bit longer for her to accept it—but she’s mine. End. Of. Story.

“Something you wanna tell me, Celia?” I ask evenly, trying to keep my boiling-over temper in check.

She wrings her hands and looks to the side. “I-I don’t know what you mean,” she whispers.

Unfortunately for her, right after she feigns innocence, a loud, unmistakable meow fills the house. I cock my head to the side as her eyes widen in an expression that can only be described as “Oh shit, I’m busted.”

She lets out a deep sigh and shrugs her shoulders. “Well, you see, I may have—”

I raise my hand to stop her. “Oh no, little one, it’s too late for that. The cat’s out of the bag. Pun intended,” I say as I stomp down the hallway and open the door to her bedroom.

I keep up the act, which isn’t hard to do because I’m less-than-pleased about a cat being in my rental, but my body exhales in relief. A cat won’t break my heart. A cat won’t steal my girl. That being said, it doesn’t mean the fur ball can stay.

A little orange nose peeks out from behind the door and sniffs my boot. Once I’m deemed fit, the kitten pounces on my foot and uses its razor sharp claws to climb its way up my jeans leg. I pluck it off my leg, but Celia swipes the kitten out of my hands before I can do anything else.

“Please don’t make me give Eddie back, Cain. Please.” Her shoulders hunch in defeat as she cradles the kitten in her arms. She shoots me the most persuasive pout I’ve ever seen in my life.

I have a strict no-pet policy. Animals scratch up doors and piss on baseboards. Those little fuckers will eat a hole straight through sheet rock. They are a pain in the ass I’ve never wanted to deal with. Celia’s just gonna have to understand that.

“It can’t stay,” I say, looking away. Her pitiful expression is the equivalent of a solar eclipse—if you look straight at it, you’ll be blinded for life.

“What if I promise to have all the carpets professionally cleaned when I move out? Would you consider it?”

Hold the fuck up. Did she just mention moving out? She can’t move out—I forbid it. Logically, I know I don’t have the right to tell her what she can and can’t do, but … no, screw that, I’m pretty sure I forbid it.

“Now, hold on a minute, maybe we can figure something out,” I say, conceding, even though it goes against my better judgment. Hands on my hips, and head lowered, I grab the back of my neck and lay down the law. “You can keep Eddie, but no new carpet until … well, let’s not go there. Just … you’re not getting new carpet any time soon, okay?”

No new carpet? Ugh! Good job, asshole. Way to show her who’s boss.

Celia squeals in delight and throws her arms around my neck, before hopping up and down. Eddie clutches onto my chest to keep from falling, and I feel those little claws piercing my skin.

“You won’t regret it, I promise,” she says as she lays a loud, smacking kiss on my cheek. She takes a step back and dislodges Eddie’s claws from my mangled chest and scratches the kitten’s belly. “Did you hear that Eddie? This is your new home.”

“Which one of them orchestrated this?”

“Hmmmm?”

“Which one of my moms did you scheme with?”

Celia’s head pops up, and she has the nerve to look offended. “Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it scheming. Lila saw how much I loved Eddie, and she said she knew you’d understand. She called me last week, and I drove out there this past weekend,” she explains.

“She’s got your number?”

“I gave it to her when we visited, you know, in case we wanted to have girl talk,” she replies innocently.

Christ…

“You and I both know there won’t be any girl talk. Instead, there will be comedy hour at my expense, I’m sure.” She smirks at me and shrugs. At least she doesn’t try to deny it.

“Oh, and I also told her I couldn’t make Sunday lunch at your grandparents’ house,” she adds. I start to tell her she’s welcome to come, but she stops me with a shake of her head. “It’s obvious you’re uncomfortable, Cain. Please invite me one day when that changes. Deal?”

“Deal,” I say, hating that she feels unwanted. I think she gets that it’s not about her. When it comes to my family, there are some things I’m not ready to share just yet.

I look down at the ball of fur in her arms and shake my head. I have to admit, the little sucker is cute. “Um, Celia, you do realize Eddie is a girl, right?”

“Of course, I know that. Why do you ask?”

“Because Eddie is a dude’s name,” I say with a shrug.

Celia giggles and raises Eddie into the air so she can admire her. “Eddie’s short for Edna Catherine Lemaire.”