ETHAN LAY SPRAWLED on Harriet’s sofa, watching as she bottle-fed kittens.
“I hate to break this to you, but your badass credentials are taking a serious blow.”
She nestled the kitten closer. “Just because I can bottle-feed a kitten, doesn’t mean I can’t be a bad girl.”
“Not convinced. You’d better take me back to bed and prove it.”
Instead, she carefully placed one of the kittens in his lap and handed him a bottle. “Stop talking and get to work.”
Ethan felt the warmth of the tiny kitten through his jeans. “I don’t know anything about feeding kittens.”
“You didn’t know anything about dogs, either, but Madi was pretty fond of you by the end.”
“Because you were supervising.” He pushed the
bottle toward the kitten, who immediately latched on.
“Tilt it a little more.” Harriet’s hand covered his, moving it into position. “She’s swallowing air.”
She returned to the other kitten, scooping it up with the ease of experience and settling it carefully in her lap.
She was gentle, kind and attentive and Ethan couldn’t work out for the life of him how her father could possibly not have loved her.
What sort of guy couldn’t love a woman like Harriet? She didn’t have a mean bone in her body. Whatever had been wrong with his marriage, there was no reason at all to take it out on his daughter.
Another person might have grown up bitter. Might have spent their lives protecting themselves.
Not Harriet. She was the most generous, giving person he’d ever met.
She sat cross-legged on the floor in a position he was pretty sure he couldn’t have achieved without requiring emergency assistance afterward.
“You do yoga or something?”
“For the past fifteen years. It started as a way to relax.”
Because having a stammer had been stressful. Living with her father had been stressful.
He didn’t like thinking about it because thinking about it made him understand why she valued home and family so strongly and that, in turn, made him worry about what she was doing with him. Maybe she made a point of being with lost causes. “So you can do lots of fancy poses?”
“I’m pretty flexible, if that’s what you mean.” She glanced up, challenge in her eyes. “I can wrap my legs around my neck.”
Heat and desire shot through him.
He forgot that he wasn’t the right man for her.
He forgot that they wanted different things. Right then at that moment there was only one thing he wanted.
In the grip of an attack of pure lust, Ethan felt sweat sheen his brow. “No kidding.”
“I’d prove it, Dr. Black, but I’m holding a kitten.”
“I guess I can manage to hold two if you’d like to show me.”
“Why don’t I start with something less provocative?” She finished feeding the kitten, placed it on Ethan’s lap and then put her hands flat on the floor. She paused for a moment, breathed and then kicked her legs into a perfect handstand, narrowly missing the tree that took pride of place in the living room.
She was poised, ramrod straight, her balance perfect. Her hair slid down and the ends brushed the floor.
He was just wondering how anyone could hold such a perfectly straight handstand for that length of time, when she lowered her legs to the floor with as much grace as she’d used to kick them up in the first place.