Shacking Up(30)

After we move all the boxes and luggage into my room Bancroft stands at the doorway with his hands shoved into the pockets of his basketball shorts looking a little uncertain.

"I can, uh, give you some time to unpack? Then maybe we can order dinner and I can go over feeding schedules and all the other stuff."

I don't know what other stuff he's talking about, but dinner definitely sounds good. "Sure. But can I meet Francesca first?"



       
         
       
        

He laughs a little. "Right. Yeah, of course. That's why you're here. Come with me." He steps out into the hall and motions for me to follow him to the door at the end. "Usually I keep her out in the living room area, but I didn't want all the noise and moving your stuff in to freak her out, so I put her in my room."

He opens the door. For half a second I imagine that the accidental kiss he laid on me turned into something else. A one-night stand, or possibly a marriage proposal.

His bedroom is a cave. Not literally. It's not fashioned out of stone. But it's incredibly large. And the bed. Don't get me started on the bed. I think I'm becoming obsessed with beds. Big ones. And it is huge.

This is 100 percent a man's room. More than that, it's an athletic man's room. Gym shorts hang off the end of the footboard and a pair of running shoes sits below them, along with discarded socks. The same kind of socks he's currently wearing right now. Ones that hit his shins and ruin my view of his nice, muscular legs with seriously defined calves.

The walls are a paler version of the room I'm staying in and the comforter is dark blue. Someone, a woman I'm guessing-maybe his mom or a sister, if he has one-has decorated his bed with a couple of throw pillows.

I'm choosing to avoid the possibility of a past girlfriend's involvement, or even a current one considering his recent date with Brittany. I'm hoping his accidental behavior has put an end to that budding love story. Anyway, the throw pillows are tossed on the comforter like they're a pain in his ass, as throw pillows often are.

On the massive bed is an open suitcase and three suit bags, unzipped. It's a good thing. If they weren't there I might have succumbed to the urge to ask how he feels about naked pillow fights. As it is, I'm having a hard time not imagining one.

"Sorry about the mess." He rushes over and picks up the few discarded items from the end of the bed, crosses the room, and tosses them in the closet.

While he worries about tidying up, I glance around the room, and finally notice Francesca's cage. It's a wonder that I missed it until now, as it's the second most prominent item in the room. Like the rest of condo, it's a luxury setup with clear tubes and several levels, giving her lots of room to run around while she's caged during the day.

"Hi there, pretty," I say softly when she peeks her head out of a tube. Her pink nose twitches, her sable head lifting, the black swatch fur making her look like a masked bandit as she regards me curiously. She slides out of the tube, her long, brown body dropping to the wood chips. She does a little roll, showing us her pale belly. She is so flipping adorable. 

"There's my girl," Bancroft says from behind me. The affection in his voice makes all my sexy parts excited. More excited than they already were. Men who love animals are so hot. So that takes Bancroft to volcanic levels.

He opens the cage and gently lifts her out. As soon as she's in his arms she scales his chest and wraps herself around his shoulders, nipping at his jaw, then grooming his stubble. I want to do exactly the same thing. Except after he showers.

He coos at her and lets her snuggle into him. She's so cute, and so is he, being all sweet with her. I think my ovaries are melting, or crying, or calling for his sperm.

After a minute of cuddles he asks. "Would you like to hold her?"

"Of course!"

"You can either take her by the scruff"-he gently grabs the loose skin at the back of her neck, holding her up-"or hold her under the front and back paws."

I choose the latter because it would mean I would also come into physical contact with Bancroft. Having started off at a seven million on the hotness scales, he moved up several notches to off-the-charts with all his sweetness, patience, and consideration. Especially with how awkward this entire situation could be. How is this man not taken already? Maybe he has some weird quirks, beyond the socks.

Francesca is adorable and full of mischief, which is the allure of owning a ferret. As soon as I have her in my arms I remember exactly what it was like when I worked at the rescue sanctuary and why I'd wanted to adopt the one that ended up there. I'm in love with her within five minutes.