“I was just closing, but you said you had an emergency?” She let the question ring in her voice. “Must be my day for it. I had a baby wolverine with a pickle problem earlier.”
He grinned. “Sounds like an interesting story.”
The cat in his arms yowled and lashed out again, leaving a second red stripe next to the first on Sean’s hand, and Brynn decided she’d had enough of that. She marched over to Sean and took the cat out of his arms before he could protest.
When the cat hissed at her and started fighting in earnest, Brynn pulled it more tightly against her chest, wrapping the squirming bundle in her arms.
“Stop it right now,” she said firmly, and the cat’s eyes widened at her tone, and then the tension seeped out of its body as it relaxed against her.
Sean’s mouth dropped open. “What did you do? I’ve never seen Barty calm down like that for a stranger. He hates most people. Well, pretty much all people except for my mother.”
Brynn smoothed a hand down the cat’s fur and crooned at him. “Barty isn’t a bad boy, are you, my beautiful one? Just a little misunderstood.”
The beautiful white Persian closed his brilliant blue eyes and began to purr, and Brynn almost laughed at Sean’s stunned expression.
“It’s a gift,” she confided. “If animals didn’t like me, I’d go out of business.”
“Makes sense,” he said.
His gaze swept her from head to toe and she suddenly flushed, realizing how she must look. Sweaty hair, no makeup, her Scruffy’s apron covering her T-shirt and jeans; she was no fashion plate, that was for sure. Of course, she’d been wearing feathers the first time he’d seen her, so it was all relative. Sean was wearing a dark green shirt and a pair of well-worn jeans and, even though the dark shadows under his eyes told her that he hadn’t slept much, he was still absolutely gorgeous.
It was entirely unfair.
“Your emergency?” she prompted.
“Oh, right. He has a big wad of gum stuck in his tail. Neighborhood kids probably dropped it on his favorite spot on the stone wall in front of the house. My mom wouldn’t let me chop it out with scissors.”
Sean dragged a hand through his own silky dark hair, which needed to see a pair of scissors, too, but Brynn kept that observation to herself.
“You live with your mother?” It was none of her business, but she was curious.
He laughed. “No, but we all go visit her a lot. She’s rattling around in that big house by herself now, and we worry. I caught some shut-eye and then arrived just in time for the cat emergency this afternoon.”
“Let’s have a look,” she said, carrying Barty over to the table.
The little cat started to protest again when he saw the grooming table, but Brynn took a clean, soft towel from a shelf and placed it down first, then set him on top of it.
“Nobody likes a cold metal table,” she told Sean.
He was watching her again—studying her as if she were a puzzle he needed to solve—and she didn’t like it.
“Don’t stare at me.”
“I can’t help it. You’re beautiful,” he said, and she was caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice.
She covered up her flustered reaction by reaching for the tools she needed. A fine-toothed comb and a little oil should do it.
“I’m not beautiful. You must not get out much,” she snapped, before pointing to the shelf behind him. “Please hand me that bottle of sesame oil from the shelf.”
When he silently gave her the oil, she winced at the sight of the scratches on his hand.
“There’s a first-aid kit under the counter. You should clean up those scratches.”
“I’m fine. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I’m not really good at small talk,” he said, his face grim as if he’d had to force out the words.
She rolled her eyes and started combing the edges of the gum out of Barty’s tail. “You practically grew up in the most popular bar in Bordertown, and you have four brothers. How can you not be good at talking to people? If you’d had my childhood, I could understand it. I spent most of my time alone.”
He shrugged, but she was almost sure he’d flinched a little. Interesting. Deep cat scratches didn’t bother him at all, but questions about his social skills made him uncomfortable. Yet another thing they had in common.