Anthony: Signature Sweethearts Book Seven Read online

  * * *

  He doesn’t come up for lunch. He doesn’t ask me any questions. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s pretending I don’t exist. Period. And it’s driving me batshit crazy. I’ve spent my day pacing the upstairs hall, answering phone calls, and responding to emails, and all the while, my mind has been on the broken man downstairs who’s choosing to stay isolated instead of letting his pain out into the open.

  By four in the afternoon, curiosity gets the best of me for the second time in one day, and I creep down the stairs as quietly as I can to see what he’s doing. When I find him in Jasper’s room, my heart stalls in my chest.

  What the…?

  With his back pressed against the wall and his eyes closed, Anthony hums low in his throat, resting his hand a few inches from Jasper’s face. He miraculously hasn’t attacked Anthony yet. I find it interesting that Anthony isn’t bothering to touch him. But I guess he already learned his lesson. Jasper won’t let him. Instead, he’s letting Jasper be himself, accepting his quirks while recognizing that he can’t change them. I just wish Anthony would accept himself as openly as he seems to be accepting the grumpy old cat.

  Quietly, I take a step back up the stairs when Anthony’s voice stops me.

  “I finished the perches and changed the scratching posts.”

  My throat tightens, but I force the golf ball-sized lump down with a thick swallow before turning back to see Anthony’s flinty gaze glued to me through the glass that separates Jasper’s room from the rest of the basement.

  “Thanks.”

  “Is there anything else you need for today?”

  I shake my head. “Nope. We can save it for tomorrow. You’ve had a pretty long day so….”

  “So I need to leave?” he finishes for me.

  Again, I catch myself shaking my head. “Not at all. I was actually wondering if you want to stay for dinner?” The invitation slips out of me, and my eyes widen in shock.

  Uh…no, I wasn’t.

  He laughs at my reaction and calls me out. “No, you weren’t. But thanks for offering. Jasper and I were just taking a few minutes to get to know each other. He’s not that bad as long as you don’t try to touch him.”

  “I think he was abused as a kitten because of his reaction to physical touch, so it’s really important to be patient with him. And thank you. One-on-one time is pretty much the best medicine for Jasper. It’s helping him trust again, and I can tell he’s lonely down here by himself. Even though it’ll be a hard hurdle to get past, it’ll be worth it in the end for him to finally open up to someone.”

  “So you don’t think he’s unlovable?”

  “Of course not,” I answer, surprised by the steeliness in my voice.

  Anthony nods as his attention goes back to Jasper whose gaze is glued to Anthony’s hand as it remains palm-side up a few inches from Jasper’s nose.

  After a brief moment, Anthony voices another question, and I almost miss it even though the room is practically silent other than the occasional meow.

  “Do you think anyone will ever be willing to take a chance on him again? Even though he’s a little screwed up from his past?”

  Tears gather in my eyes because I don’t think we’re talking about a fat, orange cat anymore. With a quiet sniffle, I hold them back.

  “He’s not screwed up, Anthony,” I admit. “He just needs a special kind of love, and I think you’re giving it to him beautifully.”

  Anthony chances a glance in my direction and holds my stare while I try not to break from its intensity. “Well, I’m glad someone can accept it.”

  Pulling his hand away from Jasper’s face, he pushes up from the floor and walks over to me.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow. Same time.”

  Then he disappears up the stairs, leaving my mind reeling.

  Okay then.

  Chapter Eight

  Anthony

  After our awkward encounter and shouting session, followed by the quiet exchange surrounding Jasper, the week passes in a blur.

  I found a little, furnished apartment with a month-to-month lease which allowed me to at least cross something off my to-do list. My bank account remains almost untouched which is a relief, though I should probably start searching for a job at some point.

  The problem is, I can’t find the drive to move forward by applying anywhere. Not when Sway’s voice echoes through my head about the importance of happiness and having it in your day-to-day life, as well as finding joy in what you do for a living.

  Breathing into the stupid breathalyzer, my car starts up seconds later. I’m turning onto the snow-covered road when my phone rings.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, this is Sway.”

  I know. I had her number programmed into my phone from the day I received my sentence.

  “Hey. What’s up?”

  “There are a couple of cats that have overextended their time at the shelter. Do you mind swinging by and picking them up?”

  I’m surprised when my answer is immediate.

  “No, not at all.”

  Apparently, a certain pink-haired girl is rubbing off on me and has given me the drive to change the world…one unwanted cat at a time.

  “Anything I need to know? Who do I need to talk to?”

  “Shannon. She’ll be at the front.”

  “Don’t mention it. Anything else?” I ask as I glance in my rearview mirror to find the road empty.

  “Nope.”

  Turning on my blinker, I pull over to look up the address.

  “Oh, and Anthony?”

  “Yeah?” My fingers fly across the screen as I locate the coordinates.

  “Thank you.” Her gentle voice floats through the speakers, and I refuse to admit the way it soothes me.

  Hanging up the phone, I toss it onto the passenger seat and let the Bluetooth speaker guide me to my destination.

  * * *

  I grab the pair of cardboard boxes acting as makeshift cat carriers from the back seat then rush to the front door while trying not to jostle the animals too much. When one hisses in pain, I know I haven’t succeeded.

  The door opens before I have a chance to knock, and I smile when I see Sway on the opposite side of it with her hands in her pockets, and her hair piled on top of her head.

  “Hey, Sway.”

  “Hey. Shannon called and said that one of them might have a hurt foot or something. Let’s take them both straight to the clinic room and get their exams started. I might need your help.”

  I gulp in response, freezing in the doorway. Me? Help with an injured cat? That definitely wasn’t what I signed up for. Not that I signed up for any part of the community service, but you get what I mean. I’m more of a hands-off kind of guy when it comes to the little critters––or critters in general. Let’s be honest, they’re not exactly my thing. Sure, I want to save animals’ lives, and if picking them up from the local shelter and dropping them off at Sway’s helps everyone out then I’m your guy. But that’s about as far as it goes. If Sway’s looking for a more hands-on kind of helper then I’m afraid she might end up disappointed when she winds up with me by her side.

  “Uh, yeah. Of course.” I hesitate. “I mean…you sure that’s a good idea?”

  With a soft smile, she nudges me gently. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I’ve never done any…cat stuff like that before.”

  Or any animal kind of stuff, I think to myself.

  Her teeth dig into her lower lip in an attempt to hide her smile as she clarifies, “Cat stuff?”

  “You know,” I hedge. “Like interacting with them in general.”

  “That’s not true. You’ve interacted with Jasper.”

  “Yeah, and he tried to kill me,” I argue, my eyes widening to emphasize my point.

  She laughs then waves me inside. “No, he didn’t. He likes you. Besides, Jasper is a special circumstance. This will be completely different. All you have to do is distract the poor girl and make her fe
el comfortable while I do a quick exam. See? Easy peasy.”

  Rolling my eyes, I follow her inside but stop at the stairs that lead to the cattery. “And what about the second cat?”

  “He needs to be fixed, so you might as well bring him in here too.”

  I grimace, my balls shriveling up at the prospect before murmuring, “Sorry, buddy,” to the cat in the box as I follow Sway into a separate part of the house I haven’t been in before.

  Looking around the sterile room, I can’t help the awe that seeps into my voice. “I had no idea this was here.”

  “What? The exam room?”

  “Well, yeah. It’s so…white. And clean.”

  She gasps dramatically, only for it to be quickly transformed into a giggle. “Why are you so surprised about that?”

  “Uh, have you seen your house? It looks like a rainbow threw up in it.” My eyes stare pointedly at the perfect mess of pink hair piled on top of her head that should look like it belongs on a homeless person who hasn’t brushed it in weeks. Yet, somehow on her, it looks natural and vibrant. “And Exhibit B. You like color, remember?”

  Not that there’s anything wrong with it.

  As I watch Sway tuck a strand that has fallen from her bun behind her ear for the umpteenth time since we met, I finally admit to myself that it’s kind of growing on me. The colors. The brightness. The cheer that felt so absent in my life until I walked into this little house, and it was thrown at me from every angle.

  Yeah. I don’t think I mind the pink at all.

  “Well, yeah.” She gives me a shy smile, peeking up at me through her thick lashes when she catches me staring. But what really surprises me is the fact that I don’t turn away. I let her see me looking, let her feel my gaze eat up every hair on her head with open curiosity.

  She continues her argument. “But I like white too. Plus, it helps keep my mind focused on my task, which––when I’m in this room––means the patient.” When the word slips past her lips, it seems to snap her out of the trance she’s been in, and she clears her throat. “Speaking of which, will you put the big guy into one of the kennels?” Her dainty little finger points to the far wall at the back of the room where I see a set of three cages lining the wall. Each of them has a few blankets and a small bed to keep the animals comfortable, along with a set of empty bowls and a litter box. It looks like Sway’s thought of everything.

  “Sure thing.” I don’t mention the fact that her hair is very distracting for a guy like me, but I can’t decide if it’s because it’s pink or because it looks so damn soft and silky. I bite my tongue and open the cardboard box to see a white and gray head pop out of it before looking around with open curiosity.

  “Hey, buddy. We need to put you in here for a second, okay?” My heart starts to pound as I reach in and pick up an animal I’ve never met. The warning bells from when I was young and my parents told me to not touch animals I didn’t know flashes through my mind, but I push it aside and follow Sway’s orders. My brows raise in shock when the gray and white cat doesn’t scratch the shit out of me. With a deep sigh of relief, I place him in the cage and close the door behind him then turn around to find Sway in the middle of an exam with the female cat who’d supposedly hurt her leg. Cooing softly, she gently rubs the cat’s back before sliding her hand from the cat’s shoulder down to its paw.

  “Hey, can you come hold her?”

  “Uh, yeah. Sure.” My feet scuff the linoleum tile as I step closer to the exam table and put my hands on the cat, petting her gently while keeping her in place.

  Sway looks up at me, beaming. “Perfect.”

  Reaching for a stethoscope, she presses it against the cat’s chest before jotting down a set of numbers on a pad of paper. After, she continues her assessment of the cat’s paws only for it to hiss angrily and pull away when Sway reaches her front paw on the right.

  “Aaand there it is. Hey, baby girl, we’re going to need to get that thorn out of there. I promise you’ll feel much better once it’s not poking you and making it painful for you to walk. You just gotta trust me. Think you can do that?”

  I know the cat won’t answer, but it still seems to calm at Sway’s soothing voice, and I find my anxiety dissipating, as well.

  “You’re a natural at this,” I murmur as Sway gets back to work.

  She peeks up at me before turning her attention back to the cat. “Thanks.”

  “What made you want to become a vet?”

  With a shrug, she continues her exam and explains. “I dunno. I guess I’ve always loved animals. Not just cats,” she clarifies with a smirk. “But I think they’ve always held a special place in my heart. Especially when I learned the euthanization rates for them when I was in school. Honestly, Anthony, it broke my heart. So, I decided to dedicate my life to saving as many as I could. I know I’m only one person, and that I’m only making a tiny wave in a very large ocean, but it’s better than nothing, ya know?”

  The cat hisses as she pulls a set of tweezers away from its paw with a triumphant smile.

  “Got it.” She turns to the table behind her and starts fiddling with the drawers in search of something as I let her remark marinate in the comfortable silence.

  “I envy your passion,” I admit while scratching the cat behind its ear to calm her.

  “Why? There has to be something you’re passionate about.”

  Taking a second to ponder, I look back on my life and come up empty. The truth makes me feel defeated as I come to the realization that I’ve never really lived in the first place.

  “If there is, I haven’t found it yet.”

  Turning around, she quirks her brow and rests her hands on the opposite side of the stainless steel exam table. “That can’t be true. What do you like to do?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrug. “I’ve never really done anything except go to work.”

  Damn, that’s pathetic.

  “What do you mean? What about vacations and stuff?”

  Her face is priceless as she struggles to grasp the truth I’m sharing with her. “Never really been on one. I mean…there have been a few here and there, but I usually worked in the hotel, so I didn’t really enjoy them.”

  With her jaw on the floor, she asks, “Are you serious right now?”

  I nod.

  “You’ve never done anything spontaneous? Anything on a whim? Anything that makes your blood pump, or your heart soar?”

  “Nope.” I can’t even comprehend something like that.

  She purses her lips, examining me like I’m an unidentified species, and the attention makes me squirm.

  “Well, then…I think we should fix that,” she decides.

  “And how would we do that?” The challenge is clear in my voice.

  Tapping her gloved forefinger against her chin, she thinks for a moment before her eyes light up. “I have an idea. I need to finish giving this little girl her shots then neuter the big guy. After, we’re going on a little adventure.”

  My brow quirks curiously. “What kind of adventure?”

  “Nope.” She lifts her hands and mimics zipping her lips. “No deal. It’s not spontaneous if you know the plan. Sorry, Anthony. But you’ll have to pass the reins over to me on this one.”

  “But––”

  “Nope. No ifs, ands, or buts, mister. Now, do you wanna help me give the vaccinations or….”

  “I’ll go check on Jasper. Poor guy probably hasn’t scratched anybody today and is feeling twitchy.”

  She snorts. “Scared of needles, Anthony?”

  “Nope. Scared of scalpels around genitalia, though, even if it isn’t my own.”

  I’m greeted with her tinkling laughter as she tosses a quick glance toward the poor sap in the cage. “Touché. I’ll be out in a few.”

  Chapter Nine

  Anthony

  “So…should I trust you behind the wheel?” My voice is teasing, but it doesn’t stop the way I grip the oh shit handle near the passenger window as we fly down
the road. The streets are freshly plowed, but there’s almost a foot of fresh snow lining each side of the road, and I can’t help but feel like my life might flash before my eyes at any second.

  With a wave of her hand, Sway shakes her head and quips, “Says the guy who wrecked his car in my yard while driving under the influence.”

  I gasp in mock offense, making her laugh in return.

  “Low blow, Miss Swenson. Low blow.”

  “Whatever. You’re the one who’s holding onto that handle like your life depends on it. I’ll have you know, Mr. Wright,” she mimics my tone from seconds ago, “That I have never been in a car accident, and I don’t plan on ruining my perfect record anytime soon.”

  “Says the girl with a behemoth Suburban that has four-wheel drive.”

  “Hey! First my driving, and now I’m getting crap about my car?”

  I raise my hands in defense. “No. I’m just saying that a car with four-wheel drive would’ve been nice when I was sliding into your damn sign that night.”

  She laughs before flicking on her blinker and turning up a side road. “Yeah, I’m not gonna lie. Drunk or not, the roads can get pretty slick, which is why my dad insisted on helping me choose my car when I turned sixteen. Taffy’s been with me ever since.” She pats the dashboard affectionately, and I find myself grinning from ear to ear.

  “You named your car?”

  “Obviously. Anyone who wants a trusty girl like Taffy knows to name their car as soon as they meet her. It’s common sense.”