“Took a dump in my favorite running shoes.”
Willa did her best not to laugh out loud and say “good girl.” It took her a minute. “Maybe she’s just upset to be away from home, and missing your aunt. Cats are creatures of habit. They don’t like change.” She spoke to Keane without taking her gaze off the cat, not wanting to look into the dark, mesmerizing eyes that didn’t recognize her because if she did, she might be tempted to pick one of the tiaras displayed on her counter and hit him over the head with it.
“What’s her name?” she asked.
“Petunia, but I’m going with Pita. Short for pain in the ass.”
Willa stroked along the cat’s back and Petunia pressed into her hand for more. A low and rumbly purr filled the room and Petunia’s eyes slitted with pleasure.
Keane let out a breath as Willa continued to pet her. “Unbelievable,” he said. “You’re wearing catnip as perfume, right?”
Willa raised an eyebrow. “Is that the only reason you think she’d like me?”
“Yes.”
Okay then. Willa opened her mouth to end this little game and tell him that she wasn’t doing this, but then she looked into Petunia’s deep--as--the--ocean blue eyes and felt her heart stir. Crap. “Fine,” she heard herself say. “If you can provide proof of rabies and FVRCP vaccinations, I’ll take her for today only.”
“Thank you,” he said with such genuine feeling, she glanced up at him.
A mistake.
His dark eyes had warmed to the color of melted dark chocolate. “One question.”
“What?” she asked warily.
“Do you always wear X--rated headbands?”
Her hands flew to her head. She’d completely forgotten she was wearing the penis headband. “Are you referring to my reindeer antlers?”
“Reindeer antlers,” he repeated.
“That’s right.”
“Whatever you say.” He was smiling now, and of course the rat--fink bastard had a sexy--as--hell smile. And unbelievably her good parts stood up and took notice. Clearly her body hadn’t gotten the memo on the no--man thing. Especially not this man.
“My name’s Keane by the way,” he said. “Keane Winters.”
He paused, clearly expecting her to tell him her name in return, but she had a dilemma now. If she told him who she was and he suddenly recognized her, he’d also remember exactly how pathetic she’d once been. And if he didn’t recognize her then that meant she was even more forgettable than she’d thought and she’d have to throw the penis headband at him after all.
“And you are . . . ?” he asked, rich voice filled with amusement at her pause.
Well, hell. Now or never, she supposed. “Willa Davis,” she said and held her breath.
There was no change in his expression whatsoever. Forgettable then, and she ground her back teeth for a minute.
“I appreciate you doing this for me, Willa,” he said.
She had to consciously unclench her teeth to speak. “I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Petunia,” she said, wanting to be crystal clear. “And you’ll need to be back here to pick her up before closing.”
“Deal.”
“I’ve got a few questions for you,” she said. “Like an emergency contact, your driver’s license info, and”—-God help her, she was going to hell if she asked this but she couldn’t help herself, she wanted to jog his memory—-“where you went to high school.”
He arched a brow. “High school?”
“Yes, you never know what’s going to be important.”
He looked amused. “As long as I don’t have to wear a headband of dicks, you can have whatever info you need.”
Five extremely long minutes later he’d filled out the required form and provided the information needed after a quick call to his aunt—-all apparently without getting his memory jogged. Then, with one last amused look at her reindeer antlers a.k.a. penis headband, he walked out the door.
Willa was still watching him go when Rory came to stand next to her, casually sipping her coffee as she handed over Willa’s.
“Are we looking at his ass?” Rory wanted to know.
Yes, and to Willa’s eternal annoyance, it was the best ass she’d ever seen. How unfair was that? The least he could’ve done was get some pudge. “Absolutely not.”
“Well we’re missing out, because wow.”
Willa looked at her. “He’s too old for you.”
“He’s thirty. What,” she said at Willa’s raised brow. “You’ve got the copy of his driver’s license right here on the counter. I did the math, that’s not a crime. And anyway, you’re right, he’s old. Really old.”
“You do realize I’m only a few years behind him.”
“You’re old too,” Rory said and nudged her shoulder to Willa’s.
The equivalent of a big, fat, mushy hug.
“And for the record,” the girl went on, “I was noticing his ass for you.”