“And I politely declined.”
“Is that what you think you did?”
To his credit, he was silent for a moment like he was trying to remember. He picked up the mug and brought it to his lips and took a long sip. Steam billowed out and he winced at the hot liquid.
“Happy?” he asked hoarsely.
“Yes. Extremely.”
He shook his head and took a seat. “How come you don’t have as much of an accent as your brother?”
“It slips out a little more from time to time. I was three when we moved to Australia and I was an early talker so that’s probably some of it.”
“How long were you there?”
“I was twenty-one when Mum and I moved back.”
He smiled, flashing me that gorgeous mouth and white teeth. They weren’t perfectly straight on the bottom but for some reason that made me like his smile even more. “There it is. Mum. Do you miss it?”
“No, but I wish I hadn’t taken it for granted so much when I lived there. I didn’t see a lot of things I should have before we left.” I put the lid on my cup and took a careful sip. “Do you miss it?”
“No, I love California. The Pacific Coast is pretty spectacular.” He started toward the bedroom with his mug. “Add that to your list of things to be grateful for today.” With a cocky wink he was gone.
My face grew hot and I glanced at my open gratitude journal lying on the counter. He wouldn’t. But of course, he had. It wasn’t like I’d hid it. It was in plain sight so I couldn’t really be mad.
I re-read yesterday’s entries, pretty typical, mundane things like good hair day and beef wellington – nothing embarrassing except the very last one… phone sex.
As I drove to work, I took in my surroundings like it was the first time. Hermosa Beach was beautiful and hate as I might to admit it, Finn was right. I mentally scribbled it down on my gratitude list.
Along with gray sweatpants and morning voice.
Later that day I was on the phone with Richard when UPS showed up at my house.
“Finn McCash?” a short, stocky guy with a blond beard asked without looking up. There were two giant boxes at his feet, and he scanned them with his little handheld thingy.
“Uhh…”
He glanced up at me impatiently.
“He’s not here.”
“Sign here and I’ll grab the others.”
The others turned out to be a dozen more boxes just as big as the first two.
I waited up for him that night. Or rather, I was awake when he got home. Kitty sat on my lap as we watched an old episode of Man vs Wild when Finn walked through the front door.
Dark jeans, a black sweater, and a ball cap pulled low… he looked like he’d been on a date. Don’t ask me how I knew – years of dating bad boys and being picked up wearing something similar. Though none of them ever looked quite that good.
“Some boxes came,” I said absently like I wasn’t dying to know what was inside. He’d already told me the stuff from his apartment was in storage so I had no clue what could be in the large boxes.
He nodded and slowed as he took them in. They were taking up a good portion of the entryway, so there was no missing them.
He surprised me by blowing out a breath and taking a seat on the opposite end of my white couch. His long legs stretched out in front of him. Kitty walked over to him and he petted her while staring straight ahead at the TV.
“Have you named her?”
“Who?”
I pointed to his lap and he stopped like he was embarrassed to be caught petting the cat.
“She needs a name,” I insisted.
He frowned. “Her next owners can pick. She’s just kitty.”
For some reason I hated the idea of him giving her up. I got it – really, I did. It was a constant reminder of his ex, but that wasn’t the cat’s fault.
I wondered if he had any idea what the sight of him with that kitten did to women everywhere. I bet I could snap a photo and it’d be reposted a million times by morning. Heck, I could probably sell it and pay rent for a month.
“You really never had a pet before?”
A small shake of his head. “No. We lived in a small place growing up. Wasn’t a lot of room and my parents both worked long hours.”
“Siblings?”
Another shake of his head and this time he stood and removed his hat. “Is it okay if I leave the boxes there until…” He ran a hand through his hair and looked weary.
“Yeah, of course. It’ll be like an obstacle course every time I come and go.”
One side of his mouth pulled into a smile. “’Night.”
“Good night, Finn.”
The next morning, I was only slightly disappointed when Finn didn’t appear in the kitchen while I poured my coffee and wrote out my gratitude list. I didn’t write down men with kittens, though I thought it, but I decided to write out some possible names for kitty. If Finn didn’t read the list then no big deal, but if he did, then maybe it’d spark an idea for him.
Spot
Lola
Princess
Diamond
Striker
The last one was my least favorite, but I was playing to Finn’s love of soccer. Maybe if the kitty had a name that reminded him of something he loved, he’d transfer some of that love to her.
After work I’d made plans to go out dancing with Aubrey and Bobbi. About six months ago Aubrey had demanded we stop acting like old ladies and get out more. I’d been skeptical at first. Girls night usually meant sipping wine, dance clubs or concerts where cheap beer coated the floor and getting drugs was as easy as knowing which guy to grind against on the dance floor. But Bobbi knew all the good spots. I had no doubt that she and Aubrey had spent a lot of energy on researching places they thought I’d be comfortable. That was just the type of friends they were.
Tonight, we were at a small restaurant on the beach that had a DJ after ten o’clock. No one except us was dancing, but that didn’t bother us. We danced through several songs, singing the lyrics at an obnoxious level, and generally having a fabulous time. When Bobbi broke our circle to go to the bathroom, Aubrey and I took a seat at our abandoned table for a breather.
“How are things at home?” The lift of her eyebrow made what she was really asking crystal clear, but I played dumb.
“Good. Richard is coming in next weekend.”
“Oh no you don’t,” Aubrey insisted. “No changing the subject. How are you doing with Finn freaking McCash sleeping under the same roof?”
“It’s really not that big of a deal. We’re almost never there at the same time. I work all day and he goes out at night.”
“What’s Richard say about it?”
“He doesn’t love the idea, but it helps that you and Chance let him stay with you. He trusts your guys’ judgment.”
“More than he trusts yours?”
“No, it’s just…” But I couldn’t finish that statement. I wondered if my past made Richard question my judgment in ways he might not if I’d had a less rocky history.
“Are we grilling her about Finn now?” Bobbi asked when she returned. I’d dodged her questions all week. The truth was, it felt like a betrayal to talk about Finn. I knew from the girls that he’d gone silent on social media and hadn’t made any media statements. In his absence, they’d turned to showcasing his ex-fiancée and her new boyfriend on what should have been her and Finn’s honeymoon.