“Why not?” I asked, hoping his answer had something to do with me. Actually, I hoped it had everything to do with me. It was wishful thinking, but I still held out hope.
He looked me in the eyes and said what I had been silently praying he’d say. “Because all I could think about was how much I wanted to be kissing you instead of her.”
Pressing my lips together, I tried not to smile but lost.
I softly asked, “Really?”
When he smiled and his dimples went on full display, I moaned internally. This love-hate relationship thing we had going on was going to get emotionally exhausting.
“Really-really.”
Mr. Pootie jumped next to Tucker and he jumped back some, letting out a girly scream that made me chuckle.
“What in the hell is this thing? That’s twice now he’s scared the piss out of me.”
Crinkling my nose, I replied, “That is Mr. Pootie, my cat.”
Mr. Pootie had jumped up next to Tucker and was currently giving him the stare down. I forced myself not to laugh as I watched the two of them face off. Poor Tucker. I already knew Mr. Pootie would win.
“What the fuck is wrong with him?”
My mouth fell open. “What do you mean? He’s a perfectly beautiful baby boy!”
Turning to look at me, Mr. Pootie meowed and glared back at Tucker. It was almost as if he was trying to tell me to throw Tucker out of our place.
“He looks like someone was drunk and went at him with some buzz cutters.”
“Tucker! He’s been groomed to look that way. What is the matter with you?”
Lifting his paw, Mr. Pootie gave Tucker a go-to-hell look before he began cleaning himself.
With a glance between my cat and me, Tucker asked, “You did this on purpose? I mean, you had him cut like this intentionally?”
Rolling my eyes, I sighed. “Yes. I had him cut like that.”
“Why? He looks like a pussy.”
With a smirk, I said, “He is a pussy.”
“You do realize if any other cat saw him like this, he’d be made fun of.”
“He would not!” I argued. “He would be the envy of all the other cats. He loves getting his hair cut.”
Tucker looked like he might actually get sick.
“No cat of mine would ever be allowed to get his hair cut like this. Hell. No.”
I couldn’t imagine Tucker with a cat. A dog was a different story. Tucker was the type of guy who would have a boxer or some sort of dog like that. Something athletic and bulky, like he was.
My eyes roamed over his toned body again. I hated the way it made my insides shake. The warmth that pooled in my lower stomach was hard to ignore, especially when the bastard would smile at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking.
“Charlie, if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to bend you over the couch and fuck you from behind.”
I gulped for air and felt my entire body heat.
“You think I’d let you fuck me after you just insulted my cat?”
Tucker smirked. “I seriously doubt he knows I insulted him.”