The little girl nodded her head and placed a plastic slice of cake on each plate. "My mom helps doggies and kitties."
"That's her job as a grown-up."
"I wanna job." She placed a saucer under each teacup then poured from the toy pitcher that made a glub, glub, glub sound.
"Your job is to learn your letters, to eat your vegetables and play."
"We are playing. Is the tea good?"
"Oh...." He pretended to sip from the cup that was smaller than a shot glass. "Very good."
She fished around in her pocket and pulled out two dollar bills and a quarter. "Mommy gave me this to buy treats when I go back to school. But I'm buying shoes for the kids that lost their shoes in the tora-na-do."
Whit set the tiny cup down carefully, his heart squeezing inside his chest at the weight this little girl was carrying on those small shoulders. Megan's words about having to be cautious for her daughter's sake rumbled around inside him.
"Kiddo, I think that's a very good idea."
She hung her head and poured more pretend refills. He couldn't stop thinking about that tiara and those costumes she always wore. He felt so damn helpless.
He'd been doing some nosing around on the internet about kids and trauma and had stumbled on an article about therapy dogs being used at schools. He wondered if he should run that idea by Megan now rather than later. Or would she think he was intruding?
As he looked into Evie's green eyes that carried far too many burdens and fears for one so young, he could understand Megan's need to protect her daughter.
Evie's nose scrunched, making her look so much like a mini-Megan. "I can't drive. And if I tell my mommy what I wanna do it will ruin the surprise."
"Are you asking for my help to surprise your mother?"
"Would you?" Her eyes went wide and hopeful. "Please?"
"Can do. In fact, I have an idea." He held out his hand. "If you pass me your iPad we can order shoes online now. Together we can buy lots of shoes."
"You're gonna buy some too? I like that." She sprinted to the sofa and jumped up beside him.
Was she going to hug him? He braced himself.
She rocked back on her heels, her forehead furrowed and worried. "I had two more coins but I bought a sucker. My mommy wouldn't have bought herself a sucker. I should have gotten somethin' for her instead."
He tugged one of her crooked pigtails. "Maybe we could get something for your mommy while we buy those shoes."
"Like flowers or candy. Mommy likes chocolate-and recycling." She grabbed her iPad off the end table.
He reached for the tablet. "Chocolate and a new recycling bin for your mom."
"Yay!" She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tight. "You're a good boy, Mr. Whit."
God, the little minx was well on her way to wrapping him around her little finger.
On her way?
Too late.
The sense of being watched drew his gaze across the room. Megan stood in the archway between the living room and dining area, holding Tallulah in her arms. Her green eyes glinted with tears. She'd told him she was wary and she had every reason to be given her past. He needed to prove to her he could change, that he was a man worthy of a chance. He didn't know where they were going yet, but he damn well knew he couldn't walk away without digging deeper. Trying harder.
He patted Evie's back and looked at her mom. "Megan, I have an important question to ask."
She blinked in surprise while Evie spun around in her angel dress, humming a tune from the show that had just been on TV.
Megan sniffed and nodded. "Okay. What is it?"
"Can I take my cat home today or do I need to fill out an adoption application at the shelter when you open on Monday?"
Nine
Megan was so stunned by Whit's request to adopt Tallulah, she almost dropped the cat. She adjusted her hold on the calico and stepped closer to the man who continued to turn her world upside down. "Excuse me? You want to do what?"
"You said Tallulah's better now." He stepped closer to stroke the cat, his knuckles grazing Megan's breasts. "So I thought I could take her home, like you asked me."
She eyed him suspiciously. "Are you doing this just to impress me? Because if so, that's the wrong reason to adopt an animal. A pet is a lifelong commitment. If we...break up," the words lodged in her throat for an instant, "you still need to be committed to keeping and loving Tallulah."
He nodded solemnly. "I understand that. We may disagree on a lot of things, but I would never walk out on a commitment. That's why I didn't keep her the first day. I wasn't sure I could care for her the way she deserves. I'm certain now that I can."
Was he talking in some kind of code? Adding layers to his words? Talk of the future made her jittery when she was barely hanging on in the present. "Okay then. When would you like to take Tallulah?"
"I'll need to get supplies for her." He scratched his head. "I'll stop by the pet store on my way home. They'll let me bring her inside, right? I know I'm not supposed to leave an animal in the car."
She stifled a smile. He really was trying. "How about this, Whit? Let me gather some supplies to get you through the night and then you can shop at your leisure tomorrow for the things she'll need. I've got a flyer on file I can email you. We give it to all adopters."
"Thanks. I appreciate that." He leaned in and whispered in her ear, the warm rumble of his voice so close that it incited a nice kind of shiver. "Will Evie be upset to see Tallulah go?"
Megan rested a hand on her daughter's hair, no easy feat as she maneuvered around the halo and tiara. "She understands Tallulah isn't ours. Don't you, sweetie?"
Evie nodded. "Me and Mommy are rescuers. We find good homes for kitties and puppies. Tallulah is Mr. Whit's cat. I'll go get her bed and stuff." She looked up at Whit. "You won't forget about the shoes?"
He knelt down to look Evie in the eyes. "I won't forget. I promise." He tugged a pigtail. "And I always keep my promises."
"Good deal. Thanks." Evie kissed him on the cheek then sprinted to the laundry room where the kitty supplies were kept.
Megan drew in a shaky breath. Seeing flashes of how good life could be with Whit around was tougher than she thought.
He looked at the tiny pink cup in his hand and shrugged sheepishly before setting it down on the coffee table. "About Tallulah-you're not going to call me out on all the BS reasons I gave you about why I couldn't keep a cat in the first place?"
She had questions, but not so much about the cat and certainly not right now with Evie a room away. "I don't believe in saying 'I told you so.'"
"Good to know. I hope there's a lot of information on that list. I've never taken care of an animal on my own before." His eyebrows pinched together and he stuffed his hands in his pockets as if having second thoughts. "I wouldn't want to screw this up."
"I'll be happy to give you our adoption briefing." She held back a smile since she didn't want to hurt his feelings. She truly was touched by his concern. If only more people were this careful. "The most important thing for her now is to get lots of TLC while she bonds with you. So, are you cool with letting her sleep in your lap while you watch ball games?"
"I think I can handle that." He rocked back on his boot heels.
"Sounds good." She rubbed her cheek against Tallulah's dark furry head before passing over the cat. "Let me go dig up an extra scratching post for her to use at your house."
"Would you like to come to dinner at my house tomorrow night?" Whit secured the cat in one arm so he could scratch her under the neck with his other hand. "You can give me that briefing and check on Tallulah."
He was asking her to take a big step. Another meal together. Spending time in his home and in his life. But no matter how nervous those ideas made her-and they still did-she couldn't deny the warm hopefulness that sparked to life insider her either.
Despite the risk, she wanted to try.
* * *
The next evening, Whit stepped into his house with Megan and it felt so damn right to have her here it shook the ground under him. She was becoming more and more a part of his life with each day that passed.
Last night's hot dogs with mac and cheese had tasted a helluva lot better than any of his catered dinners. But then he knew that was due to the people at the table with him. Then he'd taken his cat home. And holy hell, it still surprised him that he'd decided to get a pet. Except it felt right. Still did. His house didn't feel so damn empty with the cat checking out his furniture and deciding which places were worthy of her. Tallulah had sniffed out every corner and seemed to approve of his leather ottoman in the living room. His bed had gotten cat props too; Tallulah had curled up on the pillow next to his head as if she'd been sleeping at his place every night.