“Come on in,” yelled a voice from somewhere inside. “I’m almost done.”
Torn between irritation that she wasn’t ready and the lack of a proper greeting at the door, Lucas stepped inside and stopped to take in his surroundings. The interior before him could have been a magazine shoot for the perfect beach cottage. White paneling, well-worn aqua blue area rug, seashell-covered picture frames. Even the coffee table looked to be made out of salvaged wood from an old pier.
Two accent pillows on the couch. A multicolored throw draped naturally over the back of the sofa, and the arrangement of frames on the wall was artful chaos. Somehow it worked.
He’d expected something resembling a frat house. What he’d walked into was spotless without feeling sterile, welcoming, and purely feminine. Sid was clearly no frat boy. Something he should have remembered from their encounter on the beach.
“I just have to feed the cat, then I’ll be ready to go,” Sid said, entering the room while putting her hair up in a ponytail. She’d thankfully returned to her normal style of dress with jeans and an oversized gray shirt. Though not her usual tee with some obscene message. This one had a wide neckline that fell off one shoulder, revealing olive skin and what looked to be a black tank underneath.
Two questions hit Lucas at the same time. Why didn’t she ever wear her hair down? And Sid had a cat? He went with the second since having her hair down would undoubtedly have him longing to touch it all night.
“I didn’t peg you for the cat type.”
“I’m not. Curly made me take her.” Sid padded across the floor in white socks and snagged a pair of black boots off the floor beside the couch. “You can come all the way in, you know. I promise not to jump your bones and tie you to my bedpost.”
Lucas ignored the ping of disappointment. “How did she make you take a cat?”
“Curly has her ways.”
He followed her into the kitchen and spotted a smudge of gray fur hovering under a kitchen chair. At first it looked like a dried hair ball, then it moved. “That tiny ball of fur is your cat?”
“Yep.” Turning with a can of cat food in her hand, Sid put the can opener to work. “Lucas, meet Drillbit. Drillbit, this is Lucas. Shake hands and come out fighting.”
Lucas bent down to get a closer look. Big blue eyes blinked up at him. Upon closer inspection, he could see dark stripes throughout the light gray hair and a solid white chest with white on the tips of its feet. He didn’t go for pets much, but this one was cute.
“What kind of a name is Drillbit?”
“Stand around long enough and you’ll see.” Sid scooped the food into a small pink bowl, then moved to the sink to rinse off the spoon.
Before she’d turned off the water, something sharp pierced Lucas’s leg. “What the …” The innocent-looking blue eyes stared up at him again, but this time the rest of the animal was attached to his thigh. And climbing dangerously close to an important area of his anatomy.
He grabbed the cat around the middle. She was so small his fingers overlapped under the belly. He pulled but she held tight. “Can you get this thing off?”
Sid turned around. “Shit.” Before she could intervene, the demon spawn let go of his leg and wrapped around his hand.
“Motherfucker, this thing is possessed.”
“Such language, Counselor.”
He could see Sid was suppressing a laugh and shot her an evil look. “I should have known any pet of yours would have claws and not be afraid to use them.”
“Keep it up and you can get her off all by yourself. But I’ll warn you, she’ll shred that fancy jacket before you know what hit you.”
Sid lifted the feline by the scruff of her neck, supporting her with a hand beneath her bottom, and the kitten let go. Lucas’s hand was covered in scratches, two of them bleeding.
“You need a ‘beware of cat’ sign on the door.” He rinsed his hand in the sink as Sid cooed to the lioness-in- training. “Aren’t you worried she’ll latch onto your face?”
“We have an understanding.” Sid nuzzled the kitten’s tummy in a completely un-Sid-like way. “It’s funny, actually. Someone dropped her at Joe’s and Curly was afraid Dozer would eat her.” Sid spoke to the fur ball in a baby talk voice. “You’d have ripped that slobbery mutt to pieces, huh? That’s my girl.”
Lucas turned off the water and stood with his dripping hands over the sink, staring in disbelief. “Who are you and what have you done with Sid?”
She flipped him the bird.
“Ah, there you are.” After drying his hands on a towel hanging over the sink, Lucas noticed the cuts were still bleeding. Feeding the menace to Dozer sounded like a damn good idea. “I’m going to need a Band-Aid. Has that thing had its shots?”
“She’s like seven weeks old or something. Of course she hasn’t had her shots.” Sid pulled a box of bandages from the drawer behind her and threw them his way. “Doctor yourself up, then we’ll go. And don’t be such a whiner.”
“You’re going to have to help me.”
Sid turned, eyebrows up. “Excuse me? Do I look like a nurse?”
“No,” he said, “but you’d look really hot in the uniform.” She blushed, as he knew she would. A compliment was the only way to shut the woman up. “I’m buying you dinner; the least you can do is put a Band-Aid on me.”
“You’re buying me dinner?” Sid asked, opening the small white box.
“I made you lie by insinuating we had a date, so now I’m fulfilling my obligation by taking you out to dinner.” Best to set the boundaries up front. “Quick meal at the marina, on me, then we’re done.”
Sid ripped the bandage open. “No.”
“No, what? Are you refusing to go out with me?” About time Sid came to her senses.
“No on the ‘then we’re done’ part.” Raising the Band-Aid, she stopped. “We should put something on that first. Hold on.” A tube came from the same drawer where the bandages had been. “Hold still.”
Sid held his hand steady, calloused fingers pressed gently against his palm. In the same way he imagined she’d change a spark plug, she squeezed antibacterial cream onto the tiny wound, then placed the Band-Aid over it, making sure the ends were secure.
“There.” When she looked up, he felt her breath against his chin. Chocolate eyes went wide, then her lids lowered, long dark lashes resting softly against her cheek. She wore not a speck of makeup and he found the lack of affectation attractive. Sid didn’t need anything artificial to look beautiful.
She just was.
Sid licked her lips and Lucas cleared his throat. “We’d better get going.”
Maybe the rain had picked up. He could use the cold shower.
They’d arrived at the restaurant by the time Sid’s heart rate returned to normal. Which wasn’t that long since her house was about a minute from the marina. Though with Lucas at the wheel it was more like two minutes. The man drove like he couldn’t reach the gas pedal. Frannie the Red Hatter could have outrun him. On her walker.
By the end of the main course, they’d exhausted such scintillating topics as the weather, Joe’s business, the necessary evil of tourists, and the passable taste of the wine. Sid sucked at small talk, but she was doing her best. Lucas didn’t look miserable, which she took as a good sign.
When the waiter breezed past, Lucas waved him down.
“What are you doing?” Sid asked.
“Asking for the check. Why?”
Sid huffed. “We haven’t had dessert yet.”
Lucas looked pained. “You’ve had half a basket of rolls, a baked potato, the largest steak they serve, and eaten my broccoli as well as your own.”
“You said you didn’t want it.” Wasn’t as if she’d swiped it from his fork.
“I didn’t want it. But how could you have room for dessert?”
What kind of a question was that? “There’s always room for dessert. Especially here.”
