Courting the Cat Whisperer Read online

  Drawing a deep breath, she climbed onto the porch railing then took hold of the trellis. Three rungs up, she managed to grab the rain gutter. She stilled at a popping sound and felt the gutter detach from the eave. “No!” She clawed at the shingles. Part of the trellis snapped. Her left foot caught the rung below.

  I’m too young to die.

  “I’ll catch you.”

  Chancing a glance below her, she sighed with relief when she found a dark-haired guy running toward the house. Where had he come from? “Oh, thank God.”

  “Just let go,” he urged.

  She gulped. What if he missed or dropped her? Not only would she get hurt, but so might he. Her feet were at least three or four feet above his outstretched arms.

  “It’ll be all right. I promise.”

  How could she doubt that voice? It was so sure and deep, like an angel of rescue. Heart thundering against her ribs, she offered up a prayer that neither of them would get hurt—or worse. Before she had a chance to think about letting go, the snap of wood galvanized her fear. Part of the trellis snapped, deciding for her.

  Time stood still as she dropped like a stone. She was going to die. Oh, how she regretted that she’d never fallen in love, nor gotten the forgiveness she sought from her twin.

  The blonde crashed into Harry’s arms, knocking them both over the railing and onto the ground. She just lay there, face down on the grass.

  His heart lodged in his throat. “Are you all right?”

  When she raised her head to look at him, he released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The woman had the most stunning eyes—sparkling azure blue and ringed with thick, dark lashes. Even with bits of grass in her long hair and dirt smudges on her face, she was beautiful. Her black t-shirt had slipped off her left shoulder, revealing creamy, white skin. But too quickly, she righted her top and sat up. “I think I’m fine.” She gave him a smile, which somehow made her even prettier. “You saved my life.”

  She sure didn’t look like a criminal, but why else would she have been trying to climb into a house that didn’t belong to her?

  If he called the cops on her, they’d probably want to question him, too. He’d steered clear of the law since he’d arrived in Nocturne Falls. He’d always wondered if the bruises he’d had around his wrists for the first few days after he’d awakened had been caused by handcuffs. Not knowing if he had a criminal past, he didn’t dare open that can of worms. “What were you doing?” he asked her.

  She brushed debris off her jeans and stood up. “Trying to get in. The owners were supposed to leave a key under the mat. They didn’t.”

  Oops. Mr. Tucker hadn’t said a word about anyone else needing that key. Last night, on Harry’s way home from his previous job, he’d stopped by the DIY Depot and picked up some supplies for the Tucker’s renovation project and dropped them at the house. “I’m sorry. That’s my fault. I took the key.”

  “You?” She narrowed her eyes at him then backed away almost imperceptibly. “Why?”

  “They hired me to do renovations to the house while they’re away.”

  She huffed. “Well, thanks a lot. I could have been killed trying to get inside.”

  So much for gratitude.

  Poking her index finger at the house, she scowled. “And all those poor cats are famished. I need to get in there, now.”

  How could he be sure she was who she claimed? What was it about the bossy blonde that seemed familiar? Over the past week, he’d sensed that someone had been watching him. Not that he’d actually seen the person. It was more of a feeling. Could it have been her? Maybe he’d glimpsed her for a split second, and like a subliminal message, the memory was just out of reach.

  He’d done lots of research on the subconscious mind in the last four years, hoping to find a way to remember his old life. But so far he hadn’t been able to recall anything. Or maybe he was just paranoid. With good reason, though. A week ago, someone had broken into his mailbox and stolen his mail. Then a couple of days later, he’d found the driver’s window of his truck smashed. The vandal had also rummaged through his glovebox. Last night, he thought he’d seen someone peering at him through his bedroom window, although he might have dreamed that. He’d assumed that if someone was trying to mess with him, the culprit was a man. Yet there was no reason it couldn’t be a woman.

  He rubbed his chin. “So you’re supposed to be taking care of the cats?”

  “Mm-hmm. Mrs. Tucker phoned me after her regular petsitter crapped out on her.” She held out her palm. “May I have the key? I’ve never been in the house, and I need to find the cat food.”

  “The owner never said anything about a pet sitter.”

  She set her hands on her hips and frowned. “Look, Mrs. Tucker is paying me to mind the cats. How do I know that you didn’t just steal that key to rob the place?” She folded her arms over her chest and stuck out her chin.

  He had to admit—petulant looked adorable on her. But why take a chance when he could easily check out her story. “Excuse me for a moment.” Turning his back on her, he phoned the homeowner. After a very brief conversation with a jetlagged Mr. Tucker, he hung up and returned his cell to his pocket.

  “Will you let me in now?” the young woman asked.

  He faced her and offered his hand. “Please forgive me. You can’t be too careful these days. I’m Harry Hill.”

  After a momentary hesitation, she shook hands with him. “Jordan Vaughn.”

  He held on a little longer than necessary before letting go then tipped his chin at the front door. “Shall we?”

  She gave him a wary nod. “Let me grab my things.”

  “Allow me.” He picked up her battered suitcase and unlocked the door. “Mr. Tucker said there’s an extra key on a hook in the kitchen so we can each have one to use.”

  Inside the foyer, she stopped and glanced around, oohing and aahing at the antique grandfather clock and the massive crystal chandelier. Two black and white kittens rushed in and sniffed at her ankles. She picked one up and cradled it in her arms. “How long will you be working on the renovations?”

  He thought about all the items on the Tuckers’ list. Refinishing all the built-in bookcases in the study and the living room would take at least a week. The kitchen repairs alone were another week-long project. He also had to refurbish many of the Victorian-style embellishments on the exterior of the house. “About a month. Maybe less.”

  She sat on a red velvet upholstered bench and ran her hands over the fabric. “Sounds as if it’ll be noisy here.”

  “I’ll do my best to keep it down.” When he threw her a wink, a pretty pink blush rose in her cheeks.

  More cats joined her on the seat and nuzzled her as if she was their long-lost mother. “What’s your name, sweet girl?” Then she nodded as if the feline had answered her question. “Nice to meet you, Rosin, Theo. Aren’t you a pretty boy, Milo.”

  How’d she know which was which? He could have sworn she’d said that she’d never been there before. Maybe he’d misunderstood. “Where would you like me to put your suitcase?”

  Before answering, she eyed one of the adult cats. Then she looked at Harry. “The guest room. First door at the top of the stairs, on the left.”

  “Do you know the Tuckers well?” he asked her.

  She shook her head. “Yesterday, when Mrs. Tucker called me, was the first time we’d spoken. And the only, so far.”

  As he carried the suitcase to her room, he wondered if the gorgeous blonde was a little off. She almost seemed to be carrying on a conversation with the cats. Was she delusional? Or just weird? At least she did appear to be a cat person. But clearly, she was also very impressed with the house.

  Could Jordan have somehow been behind the Tuckers’ regular pet sitter backing out of the job at the last minute?

  Not my problem.

  Except that he hated unanswered questions. His entire past was a big, fat blank. Living wit
h that gaping hole in his life had made him suspicious of almost everyone. The last thing he needed in his life was a mysterious woman, no matter how attractive.

  Chapter Two

  After Jordan fed the cats, she went upstairs to unpack. The guest room was huge. She didn’t usually care for wallpaper, but the pink and green floral pattern fit with the vintage feel of the house. Milo jumped onto the bed and curled up in Jordan’s open suitcase.

  “All done eating?” she asked the cat.

  Milo started purring. Thanks for feeding us.

  “My pleasure.” She hung her sundress in the closet.

  Who’s the man downstairs?

  “A carpenter. He’s doing some work on the house for your people.” Jordan arranged her toiletries on the antique vanity.

  Milo kneaded her dog and cat pajamas. Is he your boyfriend?

  “Ha! Definitely not.” Harry was a hottie for sure, but she wasn’t interested. Not even his incredible sea-green eyes or those amazing shoulders and arms would sway her. Nope. A boyfriend was the last thing she needed. She’d made such terrible choices in her love life as far back as she could remember, which was why she was taking a sabbatical from dating.

  “This is a beautiful house,” she said. But Milo was asleep. Rather than disturb the cat, she opted to finish unpacking later. Instead, she quietly left the room and went downstairs to explore her temporary home.

  To the left of the foyer, she found a large dining room with a mahogany table that would seat at least twelve. Did the Tuckers host dinner parties there? Or family events? From all the family photos that hung on the walls in the hallway and the foyer, Jordan surmised that the Tuckers had several adult children and even a few grandkids. They appeared to have a full life, and judging by their home—and the fact that they were vacationing in Europe for an entire month—a comfortable one.

  Jordan sat at the head of the table. Mallory and Cyrus would probably have loads of kids. They both loved children. “And I’ll be the spinster aunt,” she said aloud.

  “Why is that?”

  Jordan startled at Harry’s question. She pushed away from the table and stood. “I was…” Heat crawled up her neck and face. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were around. Sometimes I talk to myself.”

  “So do I.” He shrugged. “People who spend a lot of time by themselves do that.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” Why in the world would Harry be alone? With his leading-man good looks, he probably had women falling all over themselves to go out with him. He had the kind of face that would stop a woman in her tracks, but Jordan sensed he wasn’t aware of how handsome he was, how mesmerizing his green eyes were. And that body. His shoulders and chest were broad and roped with muscle—the kind that came from hard work, and not from lifting weights at a gym.

  “Want to join me for lunch?” He held up a large paper bag she hadn’t noticed before. “I ordered burgers and fries from Howler’s. Best in town.”

  Her mouth watered at the thought. “Really? Sure you have enough?”

  He waved her into the kitchen. “I figured you might be hungry.”

  They sat at the small table in the kitchen and Harry unpacked the bag. “Have you had hamburgers from Howler’s? They’re huge.”

  “I go there all the time.” She bit off half a French fry.

  Poking his finger at her, he nodded. “That must be why you look so familiar. I do, too.”

  “Sounds as if you’re as bad a chef as I am.” She used a plastic knife to cut her burger in half.

  He swallowed his food before responding. “I love to cook. Seems like a waste to do it for one, though.”

  The knowledge that he didn’t have a woman in his life to cook for shouldn’t matter to her.

  “I eat out a lot—Salvatore’s Pizza, Big Daddy Bones, Franks-n-Steins, and of course, Howler’s. Or I order out.”

  “I wish I’d ordered out this morning,” she said.

  “Huh?”

  She rolled her eyes then told him about setting Mallory’s kitchen on fire.

  “I’ll be remodeling the Tuckers’ kitchen. Do me a favor and don’t use it after I’ve finished.”

  “Everything in here?” She glanced around the room. “I only need the fridge and microwave. Clearly, all stoves hate me.”

  “The appliances are staying. Talk nice to them, and they won’t bite.”

  “As long as they don’t spontaneously combust.”

  He laughed. “You’re funny.”

  “So are you.”

  “You’ve got some ketchup…” He pointed to her mouth then shook his head and picked up a napkin. “May I?”

  She nodded and held her breath.

  Harry dabbed the napkin to her upper lip, lingering there for several moments. He looked into her eyes.

  The temperature in the room rose a dozen degrees.

  Finally, he backed away.

  “What do I owe you for lunch?”

  “Nothing. I think there’s this rule about when you save someone’s life.”

  “Oh?”

  He ate his last French fry. “Seriously. If you save someone’s life, then you’re responsible for them after that.”

  “Like forever?” She couldn’t hold back a smile.

  “I think so. But you’re my first rescue, so I’ll have to brush up on the rules.”

  Aside from being funny, and really nice to look at, he seemed interested in everything she had to say. A lot of guys spoke to her as if she were a dumb blonde, a term she hated. She’d met her share of brunettes and redheads who were seriously deficient in the brains department.

  Truth was, she’d never thought of herself as particularly smart. Mallory had been an A student all through school, while Jordan had been lucky to make Cs. But it was nice to have a good-looking man pay her some attention. “I like hanging out with you.”

  Harry’s eyes sparkled. “Same here.”

  A pleasant ache settled in her belly. For heaven’s sake. She’d known Harry mere hours, and she was already crushing on the guy. Why bother, though? She’d screwed up every relationship she’d had with men. Pushing away from the table, she started gathering their trash.

  “Let me,” Harry said.

  “Nope.” She waved him away. “You bought, I clean up. That’s my rule.”

  “No argument here.” He checked his phone. “I should get back to work.”

  For the rest of the afternoon, Harry made lots of noise, tearing out cabinets and shelving. Jordan played with the cats, explored the house, and caught up on her social media sites.

  A few minutes after five, Harry came into the study carrying his red toolbox. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yup, I’ll be here.” In truth, the prospect of being around him for the next month sweetened the catsitting job.

  He combed his fingers through his hair. “Do you have any big plans for the evening?”

  Did he plan to ask her out? A fluttering sensation started in her stomach. “Nope, just catching up on a few TV shows, eating one of the yummy frozen dinners I brought with me.”

  He gave her that ridiculously sexy smile. “What a party animal.”

  Her cheeks warmed. “Yeah, that’s me. What about you? Got a hot date?”

  “Um, yeah.”

  Her heart fell.

  “A hot date with my cat.”

  She drew a relieved breath. Not that Harry’s love life was any of her concern. “Well, I hope the two of you have a lovely evening.”

  After a few moments, he took a step toward the foyer. “Thanks. No more climbing on the trellis, okay?”

  She saluted him. “I promise.”

  Once Harry had left, the evening dragged on, and despite Jordan’s efforts to keep her mind off of the sexy contractor, he was all she thought about. When sleep refused to come, she blamed it on her unfamiliar surroundings, even though she could usually nod off just about anywhere. Her restlessness didn’t have a thin
g to do with Harry. Absolutely nothing. At some point, she did catch a few zees. Too bad the kittens had awakened her at the ungodly hour of 6:15 am.

  By the time she showered and got dressed, it was only a little past seven. She fed the cats then kept glancing out the front window, hoping each car she heard outside was Harry’s. Okay, maybe she was a little excited to see him. Only because he was someone to talk to, some company. He was safe—a short-term friend. After her petsitting gig wound up, and his renovation work ended, they’d go their separate ways. End of story.

  She returned to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. The high tech, European machine was fancier than any Jordan had ever used. When she finally figured out how to work it, the thing sputtered and hissed loud enough to wake the dead. And this being Nocturne Falls, it was possible that some of the neighbors weren’t a hundred percent alive.

  “Good morning.”

  Jordan jumped at Harry’s greeting. Setting a hand over her heart, she smiled at him. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I’m sure. That coffee maker is ridiculously noisy,” he said.

  “Tell me about it.”

  He held up a white bakery box with Delaney’s Delectables stamped on top.

  Her mouth watered at the heavenly aroma of fresh-baked pastries. Harry brushed past her, and she detected his piney cologne, which whet an entirely different appetite than the sweets. Clearing her throat, she gestured at the coffee machine. “Can I interest you in a latte?”

  A sexy grin lifted one corner of his mouth. “I brought my own, thanks. I hope you like cinnamon-hazelnut danish or maple crullers. It wasn’t easy limiting myself to only two.” He slapped his flat abdomen. “Too much sugar in the morning slows me down.”

  “Either sounds delicious. You didn’t have to bring me anything.”

  He opened the box and sniffed. “Mm. It would have been downright cruel of me to eat one of these in front of you without sharing.” Grabbing two napkins, he placed each confection on one then cut both pastries in half. “Let’s share.”

  “Thank you.” She joined him at the table and spooned sugar into her gourmet coffee.