“It bit me.”
“He doesn’t bite. He doesn’t have any teeth.”
He jumped off the bed, moving in a walk-run toward her. “Why doesn’t he have teeth? Cade knock them out?”
“No, he’s old. Most of them were broken off, so the vet removed what was left. Cost me six hundred dollars. You think Fat Louise or Cade paid me back? Every time I mention it, they say it was her sister’s cat.”
“Did you ask her for the money?”
“She’s dead.”
“The cat killed her?”
“He’s not rabid, just old.” She bent down to pick up the purring cat as he rubbed against her leg. “See? No teeth.” She lifted him higher so Calder could see the toothless, hissing cat.
“You should have saved yourself six hundred dollars and put him down.”
The cat hissed louder.
“Shh… Manson. He didn’t mean it.”
“Yes, I did.” He jerked his arm back from a darting claw that threatened to rip his hand to shreds.
Crazy Bitch rubbed her cheek against the spiked fur as his claws sunk into her night top.
She was carefully trying to lift it when Calder tried to help her and his knuckles rubbed against the globes of her breasts. She sucked in a sharp breath at his touch.
“Girl, you need to get your ass outta here,” Crazy Bitch said to herself as she awkwardly turned toward the door, making sure to keep her eyes away from his naked body, still picturing him in all his glory.
He might lack an inch in height compared to Stud, but Calder was broader and more muscular than his loose jeans and T-shirts had shown.
She was so close to him that she could touch him. And if she didn’t get out of the close confines of the bedroom, she was going to regret it in about five minutes… after she was done with him.
“Do not lead me into temptation,” she chanted to herself, stopping when Calder placed a hand on the doorway, blocking her escape.
“You sure you don’t want to stay and watch… another movie?”
“I’m sure.” She didn’t lash out at him the way she had intended. Instead, she sounded like she was about to cough up one of Manson’s fur balls.
She started to barge past his restraining arm when he gave her a quizzical look.
“Are you listening to classical music?”
“What’s wrong with that?” she snapped. “You don’t think I can appreciate it?”
“I’m just surprised. When we play music at the club, you make us play hard rock or punk.”
“That’s for dancing, not for sleeping.”
His eyes gentled. “You have trouble sleeping?”
“Sometimes.” She couldn’t believe she was admitting to a weakness she had never confessed to anyone before.
He dropped his hand, giving her space to leave. “Good night.”
She nodded, fleeing the room before she changed her mind and threw the sexy biker to the bed. Closing her bedroom door, she laid Manson down on the bed, where he clawed her sheets into a mound to show his dissatisfaction before choosing her pillow to curl up on.
Shooing him off the pillow, she lay down, trying to go back to sleep, but she didn’t fall asleep again so easily. She was tossing and turning until her body was so fatigued it gave in to a restless sleep that had her not hearing the alarm that was going off on the nightstand.
“Anna-Kate, wake up.”
The use of her real name had her eyes flying open. She hadn’t heard it since her mother had died.
“Do you want to sit here and talk about it, or do you want to get on the road?”
She tossed her sheet off, seeing Calder was already dressed.
Going to her dresser, she took out a pair of jeans and a green tank top that she could put a jacket over. At work, it would be hidden underneath her smock.
“Get out. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Gee, thanks for waking me up,” he said sarcastically, leaving the room.
“Thanks.” She slammed her door closed then dressed in a rush, dodging Manson’s attempts to swat her when she tried to put her boots on.
“I shouldn’t feed your hairy ass.” Jerking her jacket on, she hurried to the kitchen to place a bowl of cat food down. “I’m ready.”
Calder got up from the couch. “What about breakfast?”
She opened a kitchen drawer, taking out two protein bars, and tossed one to him.
“There’s breakfast. Let’s go.”
“You’re lucky I’m a man of simple needs.”
The only needs she had on her mind were the ones that had left her unfulfilled and restless the night before. She wanted to find the motorcycles and jackets so she could go back to ignoring the bastard.
“Next time I want you to stay the night, I’ll go to the store and buy some Pop-Tarts… and I’ll hide my mail so you’re snooping ass won’t see something I don’t want you to see.”
“I like donuts better.” He grinned, opening the door for her while ignoring her last comment.