The Worst Wedding Date

There are about a million things I know to be true about Delaney Kingston. One of the biggest is that she doesn’t do dares. She doesn’t wander into danger. She’s the most rule-following-est boring person I’ve ever known.

And I say that as a man who’s had stretches of unreasonable attraction to her despite how boring she is.

I also know I’m taking an enormous risk in letting her in on my secret.

But she’s had a shitty day, and whether it’s my fault or not, I don’t like seeing people have shitty days.

Even Laney.

Maybe especially Laney.

She’s letting me push her first into the second bedroom like she’s given up the will to fight. Like I’ve broken her in two days. Not even two full days at that. Actually, not even twenty-four hours.

Jesus.

I’m known in some circles as the guy who makes people feel better about themselves.

Not the guy who tears them down.

But there I went, falling into old habits and waving around my dick for fun.

No more.

I’m better than that. Have been for a lot of years now.

Time to remember it and quit fighting this.

“Go quick so they don’t get out,” I murmur into her hair, which now smells like a salon in the sunshine, as I open the door and put my hand on her lower back to steer her inside quickly.

She does.

I slip in behind her and close the door in time to hear her soft gasp.

Miss Doodles, the gray tabby mama cat, looks over at us from her perch on the bathroom sink in the open-plan primary bedroom and sizes Laney up while one of the kittens nurses.

“Oh, god. It really is cats and not porn,” Delaney whispers.

All of my muscles tighten, but I make myself focus on what I know she knows. “You don’t like cats? What about kittens? Kittens are awesome.”

“My parents say cats are the devil.”

“Your parents are judgmental nutjobs. Cats are awesome.”

She side-eyes me.

But there’s something about that suspicious look that doesn’t fully feel suspicious.

It feels wounded.

“I do a lot of stupid shit, but I don’t lie,” I tell her. “No reason to when you live without regrets. So when I say cats are fucking awesome, it’s the truth.”

“You just called my parents nutjobs.”

Shit.

But if I’m pushing things, I’ll push things. And I’ll do it with a smile. “Again, no lies detected.”

She’s not amused.

Be better, Theo. Be fucking better.

My eyeballs still sting, so I catch myself once again before I rub them in utter frustration at the complete lack of belief in her body language, reach deep, and pull out an even bigger megawatt Theo Monroe smile. “Your parents are lovely human beings who are mistaken about cats. And cats are awesome for useless, hell-bound demon-spawn like me. We fit. Great companions. Cut from the same cloth.”

Even with the smile, she takes me seriously. She wrinkles her nose, and while she doesn’t tell me I’m not a hell-bound demon-spawn, the next words out of her mouth still surprise me.

“That’s what they always said when I’d ask for a cat. That cats were the devil.”

Fuck me.

She doesn’t believe them.

She was hurt by them.

I’m bent over in an instant, making a soft little clucking noise to call the friendliest of the kitten bunch, because I’m gonna do for Delaney what her parents never did.

Mind made up.

I don’t care who she is. I don’t care what our history is. I don’t care how much it’s gonna hurt like hell if seeing her with a kitten makes all of those old repressed feelings roar back to life.

A girl should have a cat if she fucking wants a cat.

“Jellybean, c’mere,” I say to the gray kitten who fell asleep in my hand two nights ago.

And when the tiny, barely-one-pound ball of fluff comes boingy-boingy-running to me with her little tail pointed in the air and her blue eyes open wide and her big ears fully up and curious, I scoop her right up.

Then I grab Laney’s hand and deposit the cat into her palm.

Laney squeaks.

Jellybean mews.

And then the very worst thing in the entire world happens, just like I knew it would.

Laney Kingston melts over that kitten in front of my eyes.

“Oh, you are precious,” she whispers as she lifts Jellybean until they’re almost nose-to-nose while the two of them stare at each other, blue eyes lined up with blue eyes.

I lift my hands, fully intending to grip Laney by the shoulders and guide her to the chair in the corner to sit and enjoy the kitten—or maybe all of the kittens—but I’m terrified to touch her again.

Compliant Delaney? Kitten-deprived Delaney? Hurt Delaney?

She’s inspiring instinctive caveman tendencies that I haven’t let myself feel for her since I couldn’t control it in high school.

“You’re so soft,” Laney whispers. “How are you so soft?”

Jellybean meows at her.

“Oh, look at your eyes. And your ears. They’re so big for your head. And your paws. Oh my god, how are your paws so tiny?”

Fuck me again. I need to get out of here, but I also need to make sure they have fresh water and enough food, and I need to make sure she won’t tell anyone they’re here.

Get me in trouble? I don’t care.

Hurt my kittens?

Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.

She carries Jellybean past the bed to the wicker chair in the corner beside the closed balcony doors all on her own, carefully stepping around the other kittens swarming her as she goes.

All except Fred.

Fred does not like people, so he’s not swarming.

I poke my head under the bed and verify that he is, in fact, still hovering back there. The black-spotted tabby shrinks back at the sight of me.

I grab a toy mouse and settle it as deep under the bed as I can get it without disturbing him in case he wants to play, then head to the bathroom area behind the half-wall separating the bedroom from the sink, tub, and shower.

“What are you doing?” Delaney says, prompting a round of adorable baby meows from the kittens, when I step into the open shower.

The fact that she’s not doing baby talk clues me in to the fact that she’s talking to me. “Cat litter doesn’t change itself,” I answer.

Once again, I’m getting the what kind of alien freak am I stuck with? look from her.

Probably shocked that I’d change cat litter. Wasn’t exactly the type the last time she saw me on a regular basis.

But that’s not me anymore.

And I have no idea how much she’s changed since high school either, so I shouldn’t be an ass for history’s sake.

“Treats are next to you,” I say. “They like the ones in the purple pouch best.”

“Where did you get kittens?”

“Heard them crying in a dumpster the day I got here.”

“Oh my god. Someone threw them away?”

I shrug. “Don’t know. Lots of strays around here. Miss Doodles might’ve just picked a bad place to have kittens. But she loves people.”

Her brows furrow. “Is it normal for stray cats to love people?”

“Here? Guess it depends on how much people feed ’em. Suppose they get pampered at a resort by all the people missing their cats back home.”

Do I think someone threw them away?

Yeah. Yeah, I do. The stray resort cats will come close, but not the way Miss Doodles does.

Miss Doodles was absolutely someone’s pet.

But will I tell Laney that?

Nope.

Not when she’d probably insist we figure out who Miss Doodles belongs to and get justice.

Not doing that. Not a fucking chance.

Justice happens when my cats have a good home. Not by making someone else pay for what they did.

Far as I’m concerned, they did me a favor.

“You’re not supposed to have a room full of cats in the resort, are you?”

“I will fucking burn this place down before I let them make me kick these kittens and their mama out into the street.”

Her jaw drops a moment, then she visibly swallows.

Is that a trick of the light, or are her eyes going dark?

Did I just arouse the Queen of the Rules by telling her the rules could go to hell?

“What are you going to do with them?” she asks in a husky voice that makes my nuts tight.

“Taking them home.”

She blinks once.

Then blinks again.

“Finders keepers. They’re mine now, and they’re gonna get a fucking awesome life.”

“I’m not hearing any of this.”

“It’s not illegal.”

“But it’s—it’s—”

“Just fine,” I finish for her. “Play with the kittens and enjoy it for what it is. Tell Emma I’m keeping cats in my room, and I really will send your parents the selfie I snapped of us sleeping together last night.”

She scowls.

I grin.

Can’t help it.

It is so easy to push her buttons.

Plus, scowling Laney relieves a lot of the pressure building in my balls.

Reminds me she’s a killjoy.

Mostly.

I think I trust her to keep the secret about the cats. And if I can’t, I’ll still win.

Don’t always care if I win or lose—it’s more about the journey and the fun—but I will do anything to win in this case.

Once I slip into the shower to clean out the litter boxes, I can’t see her anymore. She’s behind the shower wall. But I can hear her.

“That’s my shoelace, you silly goose! Oh my gosh, how are you allowed to be this cute? Where did you come from? Ohhhh, hi, you must be mama. You’re beautiful. Miss Doodles? That’s such a silly name. You look more like Cleopatra. Or we can just call you The Empress, can’t we?”

If her parents taught her that cats are the devil, the lesson didn’t stick. Either that, or she’s been secretly volunteering at cat shelters to get her fix.

Nope. Nope nope nope.

Not gonna picture her going behind her parents’ backs to help lonely cats find homes.

Do not need that mental image.

I finish up and shove the new bags of cat litter into the complicated diaper pail I bought so that no one will smell them in here and so I don’t have to carry bags of litter across the resort twice a day. And then I step back out of the shower to a sight that threatens to break me.

Miss Doodles is in Delaney’s lap. Laney’s petting her and cooing softly while the cat purrs loudly enough to be heard across the room.

Three kittens are climbing all over her and the chair.

She hasn’t once yelped over their sharp little claws, though I’d bet she’s wanted to.

Kitties do have sharp claws and I haven’t wanted to terrify them by trimming their nails until they’re more used to me.

But Laney seems to be in utter heaven. Smiling. No, not just smiling.

Lighting up the entire damn island.

We’re in paradise. Takes a lot to improve on what nature already put here.

But she’s doing it. That smile makes me feel warm and gooey inside, like she’s put all of the pieces of me together and now I’m a fresh-baked chocolate chip cookie whose entire purpose is to make the world a better place.

“I liked you in high school.” The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them. She’s scrambled my brains. And my tongue. “And you were always too good for me, but I still liked you, so I was an asshole because it was easier to push you away than to face the fact that you would forever be better than me and never give me a chance. So it’s easy to just be an asshole to you. It’s habit. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

Her lips part and her hand stills. “Are you—” She stops herself.

Licks her lips.

Makes my cock half-hard at the sight of her pink tongue.

Shakes her head.

And starts again. “Are you making fun of me?” she whispers.

“How would that be making fun of you?”

“Because we are nothing alike, and there’s zero reason for someone like you to like someone like me.”

“I know,” I rasp out.

“This isn’t funny.”

My face is getting hot.

So are my balls. “It’s really not.”

“You made me feel like I was unattractive and annoying and wrong for just existing. You still do.”

“I didn’t mean—I didn’t know. That’s not what I—”

“And all the while, you were always having so much fun. So much fun. Whereas I—do you have any idea how hard it is to exist in a world where you want to have fun but it’s bad or forbidden or dangerous or something for people who don’t have a future? When you have to be perfect even when you know it’s an impossible standard, but you know you have to keep trying because maybe, just maybe, one day you’ll be the exception to the nobody’s perfect rule? And then to be treated like dirt by the very people you’re so very, very jealous of because they don’t have to live up to that? Not even close.”

Four kittens yowl in distress.

One more darts into the shower.

“I—I can imagine,” I force out. Stop talking, Theo. Stop. Fucking. Talking. Now.

I’m usually good in these situations. I’m the guy the rest of the construction crew comes to when they need advice, because they know I’m fun, but they also know I’ve learned a lot of lessons about life and am happy to share. The Sullivan triplets and I goof off together a lot, but when one of them’s down and his brothers aren’t around, he shows up at my door for a beer and a pep talk.

I’m not the fuckup I was in high school. I took all of those lessons and I turned them around and I put them out into the world to help other people never, ever feel like the fuckup I believed myself to be for most of my life.

But here I am, both feeling like a fuckup myself and feeling like I’m hurting Laney too.

“I sincerely doubt you have any idea how I’ve ever felt,” she says stiffly. “Thank you for the kitten relief. I won’t tell anyone. They’re clearly happy here, and that’s what matters.” She rises, causing Miss Doodles to leap away in disgust while Laney awkwardly disentangles herself from the kittens who are clawing her clothes in various places and trying to climb on her to keep her there as their personal jungle gym. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go find some food. I’ll be back before we have to leave for dinner. Don’t go without me.”

“Laney—”

“If I’m going to help Emma have the wedding of her dreams, I need a break right now.”

She doesn’t tell me to stay put.

Doesn’t offer any advice to keep the kittens a secret in the resort.

Doesn’t say when she’ll be back or where she’s going.

She just slips quietly out the door, making sure Jellybean doesn’t follow her.

Miss Doodles looks at me.

“I was trying to do the right thing,” I tell her.

She blinks at me.

Swear to god, that blink says, For you, or for her?

And you know what?

I don’t know the answer to that question.