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      The kitten looks at him and hisses.

      Well, so much for that. I pull the kitten back. “Tell you what, Rob, I’ll let you feed one and maybe you’ll change your mind.”

      He wrinkles his nose. “Can’t you do that later?”

      “No, they’re hungry now. They’re on a feeding schedule. It won’t take long. Half as long if you help me.”

      “I thought when you said you wanted to get out of that dress … well, you know …” He gives me a seductive look.

      “I meant I was gonna change into something normal.”

      He moves forward and takes my shoulders. “Well, regardless of what you meant—”

      Anndddd … cue the red flag. “No. For God’s sake, Rob, we just met.”

      The kitten lets out a guttural growl.

      I back away. “Rob, just so we’re clear, I invited you in so we could have a drink and talk some more.”

      “I think we had enough conversation at the wedding. Look, Madison, we’re both adults—”

      “Apparently one of us isn’t. Get. Out.” (I’m getting good at this, huh?)

      “Seriously?”

      I point at the door.

      He glares at me, shakes his head, says nothing, turns around and leaves.

      Just like that.

      The phone immediately rings. Rory. I answer the call as I move to the window and pull back the drapes to see her looking at me from across the street. “What?”

      “I’ve heard of a quickie but that’s ridiculous. What happened?”

      “He hates cats and kids and is apparently as selfish as Jeremy. When I said I wanted to get out of this dress he thought that meant I wasn’t going to put on something else.”

      “Oh. Geez, I thought he was a decent guy. Sorry about that.”

      “Hey, you couldn’t know. At least I had fun at the wedding.”

      “How are the fur babies?”

      “Fine. Oh, get this, the tortoiseshell hissed and growled at him.”

      “Hmmm. Very perceptive cat. And protective of you.”

      “That’s twice the little guys have saved me.”

      “They’re just repaying you, Freckles.”

      “I guess. Well, it’s feeding time, so I have to go.” We say our goodbyes and I set about filling up the bottles with formula, then start feeding the tortoiseshell. “Thanks again, kitty.”

       Chapter Three

      It’s my first day back at work and I cannot wait to get home. The live shot kept me at my job longer than normal, and I’m already imposing on Rory enough asking her to take care of the kittens during the day. But what surprises me is how much I missed my fur babies, especially the tortoiseshell. That kitten has a ton of personality. (I called Rory four times today to check on them, and she called me a helicopter cat parent.) Anyway, I’m speeding through the neighborhood. I slow down for a stop sign and take a quick look in both directions before rolling through it. I’ll see the kittens in a minute.

      The flashing lights and the short blast of a siren breaks my train of thought. I look in the rear-view mirror and see the police car right behind me. “Oh, hell. Not now.” I pull into my driveway as the cop stops in front of my house. I open the door and hear the voice over the loudspeaker.

      “Please remain in the car.”

      I roll my eyes and get back in, reminding myself to be polite and keep my hands in plain sight, then roll down the window as I see the officer approaching in the side mirror. I look up as he reaches the car, not really able to see his face as he’s backlit by the streetlight and is just a silhouette. “Sorry, officer, I was getting out of the car because I actually live here.”

      “How convenient. License and registration please.”

      I pull the license from my purse and registration from the glove compartment, then hand them to the cop. He shines a flashlight at them. “Huh, you really do live here.”

      “I’d have to be kinda stupid to lie to a cop.”

      He laughs. “Happens ten times every day, Miss.”

      Okay, have to try my best to get out of this. I put on my innocent little girl face (referred to by my friends as my Strawberry Shortcake look), dipping my head and looking up at him through my eyelashes. “So, did I do something wrong, officer?”

      “You were well over the speed limit and you blew through a stop sign. What’s your hurry?”

      “Trying to get home to take care of four orphaned kittens. My best friend has been stuck at the house bottle feeding them.”

      He shakes his head. “Well, that’s a new one on me. Speeding to take care of cats.”

      “I’m not kidding.”

      “Seriously, Miss …” he looks at the license again. “… Shaw, you couldn’t come up with something better than that?” He pulls out a ticket book and clicks his pen.

      “Well, since we’re at my house, why don’t you come in and take a look? And if I’m lying you can write me the biggest, most expensive ticket you can think of. But if I’m not, maybe you’ll cut me some slack.”

      “Fair enough. Can’t wait to see this.” He opens the door for me and I get out. Still can’t see his face. “Oh, you’re the TV reporter.”

      “Yeah.”

      “Thought the name sounded familiar. Anyway, let’s see exhibit A.”

      I lead him up the stairs and into my home. Rory is on the couch, busy bottle feeding one of the kittens. “Rory, thank you so much. So sorry I’m late.”

      Rory looks up and sees the cop behind me. “What’d you do, get a police escort?”

      “No, my lead foot got me in trouble.” I turn to face the cop and get a good look at his face for the first time.

       Damn.

      The guy is beyond cute. Tall, mid-thirties, maybe six-one, thick black hair and olive green eyes. A face with a five o’clock shadow that’s all angles and planes. A uniform that shows off a lean, muscled physique. His Italian features confirmed by his name plate. Officer N. Marino.

      He looks right past me at the kittens. “Well, I’ll be damned. You really were racing home for a bunch of orphans.”

      I fold my arms and flash a big smile. “And the defense rests.”

      “Point taken. Sorry I doubted you.” He crouches down next to the box. “Where’d you get them?”

      I tell him the story. “So, anyway, they’re not ready to adopt out yet and Rory takes care of them while I’m at work.”

      He nods as he gently strokes the head of a kitten, which rewards him with a purr. “Very nice of you both.” He stands up and puts his ticket book back in his pocket. “Well, since you win the monthly award for the most ridiculous but honest excuse given to a cop and you’re doing a good deed, I’ll let you off with a warning.”

      “Thank you, Officer. I’ll drive safely in the future.” Another dose of Strawberry Shortcake.

      He locks eyes with me, sending a bit of electricity through my body as he extends his hand. “Nick Marino.”

      I shake hands.

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