“I can leave this outside the door if you’re busy. Sorry, I didn’t think.”
Pulling open the door, Lana decided it was better for him to see her at less than her best than to think she was doing the kind of entertaining he wouldn’t be invited for.
“It sounds like you’re insinuating that I’m hosting another date the morning after spending an evening with you. I’m tempted to take offense.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Opening the door all the way, Lana stepped aside, allowing him to carry his offering inside. And what an offering it was. Rick was carrying a fake tree so real she could almost smell the pine needles. A beautiful blue spruce with the limbs lightly touched with the most realistic snow she’d ever seen.
“Rick, it’s perfect.”
“I checked, and it’s recyclable. Nothing died in the preparation of this holiday celebration.”
“I’m a mess.” Lana touched a hand to her headscarf self-consciously. “You’re welcome to wait while I tidy up. I could call down for some breakfast.”
She started to turn, but Rick caught her hand, not an easy task when his arm was still full of counterfeit Christmas tree.
“You’re perfect.” This time when he cleared his throat, his eyes dropped to their entwined fingers. “Don’t change. I can leave. I just wanted you to have this.”
He set it down, then helped her set it up in the corner near the window and her thinking chair. Then he left to get something out of his car. Rick returned with two large shopping bags in his arms.
“Ornaments are kind of a personal thing.” He handed her one of the bags. “But it seemed wrong to give you a tree with nothing to put on it. If you don’t like these, the resort probably has more. I can get Quinn’s number from Diego. She probably knows.”
“These are lovely.” When Rick started for the door, she added impulsively, “Rick? Would you like to decorate this with me?”
Which was how Lana ended up in her nightgown on the couch, stringing popcorn on a piece of thread from one end while he worked on the other.
“Did you expect to spend your morning poking a needle through popcorn?” she asked him, bumping Rick’s shoulder companionably.
“I like popcorn.” He scooped up a handful and dropped it in his mouth, somehow managing not to choke to death. “It’s my go-to when I’m sick of cereal.”
It was hard not to like popcorn when she was sharing it with him, even if she had stuck her thumb so many times, she’d been forced to put a Scooby-Doo Band-Aid on.
“I like your Scooby.”
“Healing is always faster with crime fighters and mystery solvers.” Lana added another piece of popcorn to her side of the string. “Thank you for this. It was very sweet.”
“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight. I close the pool hall early on Sundays.” He glanced down at his hands, then looked back up earnestly. “I’m not the best cook, but I’d like to try for you. I’d like to treat you to a real date.”
Rick was killing her in the slowest, sweetest, best way.
“No taxidermy?” she asked, having a hard time keeping her hands off of him.
“Minimal taxidermy.” Rick’s voice lowered sexily. “Probably only moderate taxidermy.”
Right then and there, Lana decided she might have met the most perfect man she’d never get to keep forever. “I’d love to.”
* * *
When Lana pulled into his drive for their date night, Rick was waiting for her on the front steps. He’d prepped the sauce he was making that morning, and Diego had pitched in on cleaning the place. It was possible he’d overprepared a smidge, but Rick would rather that than get caught unawares again. Of course, in all his planning, he hadn’t expected her to hop out of her vehicle with a small plastic animal carrier in her hands.
“Okay, before you say anything, this is not what it looks like.”
Rick met her in front of her vehicle, peering inside the carrier. Two bright eyes blinked back, followed by the tiniest little mew he’d ever heard.
“You didn’t bring me a cat?” Rick raised an eyebrow.
“Of course not. I merely invited my newest feline companion to join us for dinner.” Lana hugged the plastic carrier as if the action could impress upon the kitten inside how much she loved it already. “The poor thing started crying when I went to leave the room.”
“You didn’t have a kitten this morning.” At least not that he’d noticed.
Lana gave him a hug too, not unlike the hug she’d given the cat carrier. Rick didn’t know why his brain made the comparison, but he knew he’d never in a million years own up to wondering if a kitten was his competition.
“One of the cats at the hotel had kittens,” Lana explained as they walked to the porch. “Hannah was giving them away, and she was down to the last one. It seemed awful to be the only kitten without a home, so I decided to increase the search radius.”
“Does that include me?” he asked, opening the front door for her. “Come on in.”
“Not unless you’re in the market for a kitten. I know you have your hands full already.” Her smile warmed him, and Rick found himself following her through his house to the dining room table.
“Now, we’ll have to ask Roger if he minds that the kitten is here,” Lana said. “It’s very important for him to have a say in the matter. No cat wants an unwelcome dinner guest.”
For the record, Rick always listened when Lana talked. Always. But the woman was so damn pretty, he sometimes had a hard time focusing one hundred percent on what she was saying. When she was around, it was like his senses were on overload. The sound of her voice, the playful crinkle in her eyes, the curve of her hips, or the way she nibbled her lip. He only managed to refocus when he heard another plaintive mew from the carrier in her arms.
“Okay, let’s look at this kitten.”
Lana set down the carrier, taking out a tiny black-and-white furball. “Isn’t he precious? They had names already. This is Peyton.”
Rick dropped into a chair. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her close. To his immense pleasure, Lana sat on his leg, leaning into his shoulder as she cradled the kitten. The part of Rick he tried to keep hidden deep down had shied away from the animal the instant he’d laid eyes on it. This was what Jen had done. She’d find something to take care of, and he’d be the sucker that ended up taking care of it.
How many fights had they had over “one more kitten” or “it’s just a fainting goat”? And here Rick was again, caught between wanting to make the woman in his life happy and not wanting to be a schmuck.