Sweeter Than Candy (The Davenports 1)

Brian waves him off. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I’ll take you up on that offer.”

The cheer that ripples the room is flattering.

“We’ll add you to our FB group, so you know the times and dates, and have the ability to cast your vote on the games we play.”

“Sounds awesome to me. Thanks, Shannon.”

After exchanging hugs and good-byes, we slip out into the nippy evening.

“That was a good time,” I say as we walk to his car.

“Yeah? I wasn’t sure if it was above your nerd level.”

“Nerd level?” I snicker.

“You know what I mean. Everyone has their own way to be nerdy. The group is a good bunch to call friends.”

“I got that feeling. It was just my speed. Thank you for inviting me.” I turn at the passenger door to face him.

“You’re welcome.” He moves closer. My mouth goes dry, and my heart rate kicks up a notch. A distressed meow makes us jump. He steps back and clears his throat. I shuffle my feet.

“Someone sounds like they need help,” I whisper.

The weak cry of distress pierces my heart once more.

“It’s fading.” I scan the parking lot. “Where do you think it came from?”

“I don’t know. I have a flashlight in my car. Hang tight.” He opens the car and I will the kitten to hang on. That was not the meow of a fully-grown cat. He returns quickly with a flashlight. The beam slices through the darkness.

“Come on, sweetie. Meow one more time for us.”

Meow.

“Over there.” Ash points to a pile of cardboard against the wall of the parking garage. We rush over, and he holds out his arm.

“Let me.” He carefully nudges aside the cardboard to reveal a tiny black and white kitten.

“Ash,” I gasp and kneel down. Rail thin, the green-eyed kitten couldn’t be more than six weeks if that. Fleas cling to short fur. The black head has a streak of white that starts around the nose and continues down its belly.

“We can’t leave it. It’ll die.” I shrug off my blazer and carefully wrap my new stowaway up in the soft folds.

“I know an emergency vet that should be open.”

His kindness melts my heart.

“Tod

ay is your lucky day, Rook,” I whisper.

“Fitting. You’re one lucky kitty.” Ash rubs his head with the tip of his forefinger, and he purrs in response. I cradle the bundle and follow him to the car.

ASHER

Saving a life bonds two people together. We wait anxiously in the waiting room while the vets go to work, treating the malnourished kitten.

“Do you think he’s going to be okay?” Clara whispers. Perched on the edge of her seat, she is every inch the nervous pet parent.