Close to You - Kristen Proby Page 0,47
crouches in front of me, and nudges Scoot off my chest. “How are you, sweetheart?”
“Sleepy.” Hungover. “We stayed up late watching our shows.”
“There’s more than one?” he asks.
“We were behind by a few weeks,” Riley informs him. “Damn, my neck is stiff.”
“You were worried when we were late for work?” I ask.
“A little.”
“You know, I don’t know if you know this, but we own the joint,” Riley says, always grouchy when she doesn’t have her coffee. “We don’t have a set schedule.” She scowls. “Wait. What time is it?”
“Nine fifteen,” he replies.
“Fucking hell!” Riley exclaims, and wiggles out from under me. “I have a meeting at ten! Cami, I’m stealing some clothes.”
I slap her ass. “How are you going to fit this luscious ass in my clothes?”
I envy Riley’s ass. She’s curvy where I’m just not.
“I’ll find something.”
She dashes upstairs, and Landon and I just stare at each other until she’s out of earshot. “I missed you last night,” he says, and leans in to kiss my lips softly.
“Aw, I missed you too,” I say, smiling against his lips. “And I’m pretty sure I smell bad.”
“Not too bad.” He kisses me twice more. “Want to ride in with me?”
“I can’t.” I sit up and glance over at Scoot. “I have to take him to the V-E-T.”
“You have to spell it out?”
“Yes, because I’m pretty sure he knows what that word means. I’ve had him awhile. It’s time to have him checked out.”
“Want me to stay and help?”
God, yes. But I square my shoulders and do my best to look brave. “No. I’m fine.”
“Do you have a carrier?”
“Yes. I bought one when I bought his other things.”
Landon nods. “Do you think he’ll let you put him in there?”
“God, I hope I don’t die.”
He laughs and pats me on the leg. “I’ll put him in there for you. Do you think you’ll be okay at the vet’s?”
“Yes, thank you.” He brushes my hair back behind my ear and kisses my forehead as he stands.
“Where is it?”
“In the laundry room, on the dryer.”
He disappears through the kitchen to the laundry-slash-mudroom and returns quickly as Riley makes a mad dash down the stairs, wearing a cute winter dress I forgot I had. “That looks better on you than it does on me.”
“Thanks, I’ll keep it.” She winks at me and hurries into her jacket. “Are you going to stick around tonight for Jake’s set? He’s bringing Max.”
Max is Jake’s business partner and a former member of their band. Jake brings him once in a while to join him onstage, and when the two sing together, the harmonies are magical.
“Yep, that’s my plan. Wanna hang at the restaurant tonight and listen to music?” I ask Landon.
“I can do that.”
“Awesome, I’ll see you later.” Riley waves and runs out. And then, as calmly and easy as you please, Landon reaches over and picks Scoot up in his arms. Instead of the bloodshed I’m expecting, Scoot nestles against Landon’s chin, purring.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I mutter, glaring at both of them. “He barely lets me touch him.”
“I don’t know what to say. I’m irresistible.”
“You’re something.” I shake my head and watch as he easily slips Scoot into his carrier.
“There. All done.” I stand and sigh happily as Landon pulls me into his arms for a big hug. “Good luck. Will you be coming into work when you’re done?”
“Yes, I’ll just run him back here and go in.”
“Okay, babe. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Well, it might help if you’re on standby with an ambulance and some Neosporin.”
He just laughs and kisses my head, then leaves. Scoot glares at me from behind his cage door.
“You’re not in jail,” I inform him. “You just have to go to the doctor.”
He growls.
Shit.
“SO, HOW DID it go?” Landon asks that evening as he joins me at the bar. I’ve been locked in my office all day and into the evening, trying to catch up on work. Being with Landon is awesome, but it’s been bad for my productivity.
Not that I’m complaining.
“Well, it was fine—”
“Good.”
“Until we got to the office.”
“Oh no.” He chuckles and smiles at Kat as she joins us. “She took the cat to the vet today.”
“Oh, I’ve heard the story,” Kat says, and pours Landon his usual gin and tonic. “I just want to hear it again.”
“What happened?”
“The cat is evil,” I reply calmly, and take another sip of my wine. “Like, certifiably evil. I could call in a priest, and the priest would agree.”
“He’s