He pulled into the fire station and cut the engine. He pushed thoughts of Jamie aside when he saw the guys starting to ready the quint. Fires were rare in Hidden Oaks, so based on the speed of the prep—leisurely—chances were good the quint was for some kind of minor incident.
“What’s the story?” Smith asked as he shut the door and carried in the groceries.
His buddy Travis strolled toward him, his low-key stride making it clear they weren’t prepping for a five-alarm anything. He pulled a quarter from his pocket, so Smith knew what was coming next. “I’ll tell you, but first—heads you win, tails you lose.”
Smith was never one to back down from a bet, even though he didn’t know the stakes. “I’m in. What’s it for?”
“If you can guess who just called. Here’s your hint: Cat’s stuck in a tree on Pine Crescent Road.”
Smith groaned as he put away the food in the fridge and cupboards. “Not again?”
“Yup. Again.”
“Never in my twenty-eight years of life have I met a cat who cannot come down from a tree on his own. Except for Melody Olsen’s.”
Melody had asked him out two years ago. Then one year ago. Then a few months ago. He wasn’t feeling it for her, so he’d said thanks but no thanks. She still liked to send him naughty text messages now and then. He ignored them all. He wasn’t going to lead her on by answering them. Lately, though, she’d been finding inventive ways to get around his lack of response. This was the second time she’d called about her cat. Fine, her tabby was quite a tree climber. But still…
“She asked for you. She wants you to go get her pu**ycat,” Travis said and then slapped his thigh.
“How long have you been waiting to make that joke, Trav?”
“Since we got that call five minutes ago.” Travis flipped the coin in the air, catching it in one quick motion, then brandishing the tails side in his palm. “And tails says you’re coming along.”
But Smith waved him off. “Let me just run out there. Save you guys the hassle. That branch is maybe ten feet high and I’ve got my work ladder in my truck. It’ll do.”
“You know we gotta answer every call, no matter how ridiculous.”
“I know. But it’s a Friday night in wine country, and we don’t all need to be off dealing with this in case something serious happens. I’m on my way home and I can take care of it.”
Thirty minutes later, he handed a loudly meowing cat—who honestly looked a little pissed, almost as if he’d been parked up there in that branch—to Melody Olsen.
“Thank you so much. He’s been there for hours, and I know he’s been terrified,” she said, as she stroked the black and silvery feline’s head.
“He’s all safe and sound now and barely nicked a nail.”
Melody held her cat tight, then tipped her forehead to her house with its wraparound porch. She’d placed two empty wineglasses and a bottle on a table by the porch railing.
“You want to join Tiger and me for a glass of wine?” she said coyly, as she stroked the cat in what she likely thought was a seductive fashion. The petting did nothing but remind him of Jamie. And how he’d like her to be the one inviting him over. Have a drink with her on the porch—beer for him, wine for her—talk about their day, look at the stars. Hell, he’d even be up for a little poetry if she wanted that. She intrigued him to no end—she was tough on the outside, but had a real vulnerable side underneath that she showed him now and then. She’d laid it out for him at the bookstore, being honest and blunt about what she wanted in life and love—a reformed playboy.
He’d have to be that for her.
“Thank you, ma’am. But no, thank you. I’m just glad your boy’s okay.” He gave the cat a quick pet between the ears before sliding into his truck to return to the fire station.
He turned the engine on as Melody waved good-bye and then made the cat wave, too. He laughed and gave an imaginary tip of the hat to Tiger. That’s when it hit him.
Cats and dogs.
Jamie loved animals. Dogs especially, and he had just the idea for her.
Not for a date, but something else.
It was a damn good thing Melody’s cat had found his way up that tree branch again, after all. Feeling pretty pleased with himself, he turned up the radio in his car, blasting a Billy Currington tune and singing along as he bumped down Melody’s long, gravelly driveway. He spotted Jamie’s car heading down the street. Her parents lived on this stretch of road, too. He waved to her, but when she gave him a sharp-eyed stare, he cursed and smacked the wheel with one hand.
She was jumping to the wrong conclusion, and he wished he could hop out of his truck and explain that he’d been saving a pet and nothing more. But from the way Jamie glared at him—even from a distance—he knew she was thinking he’d been playing cat and mouse with Melody.
He scrambled to find his phone, but by the time he grabbed it and called her, it went straight to voicemail.
…
“I heard you and Smith were hanging out in the bookstore earlier in the week.”
Jamie raised one eyebrow at her sister as they washed the sundae dishes in the kitchen while their parents played with Diane’s daughter in the living room.
“Oh really?”
“Yeah, friend of mine was there. Said the two of you looked pretty flirty,” Diane said playfully as she rinsed off chocolate syrup from a bowl.