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“Isthere an ‘us,’ Tyler?” For one of the first times, I really wanted him to say ‘yes.’

He winked at me. “We’re working on it, kitten.”

I tilted my head at him. “Why do you call me that?”

He shrugged. “It fits you. That night after the reception, you were rubbing all against me like a cat, and then the next thing I knew you were hissing at me and had your claws out. I never know what I’m going to get with you, warm and cuddly or cold and prickly.”

I couldn’t really deny his assessment, but I couldn’t let him get away with it, either. “Just remember,” I said as I raked my nails down his chest, “claws can leave marks.”

He grinned at me. “Oh, trust me,kitten, I’m counting on it!” A slight thrust of his hips emphasized the lascivious gleam in his eye.

I swallowed the groan that desperately wanted to escape. Tyler had always liked to tease me, but this new physical contact was taking it to a whole new level. Well, two could play at this game.

Taking advantage of our position, I used my body to lean into him, knowing he had nowhere to go. Our entire bodies were completely aligned. I slid my hands along his hips and hooked my thumbs in the back of his waistband and splayed my fingers over the top of his ass. I slid along him as I stood on my toes and ran the tip of my nose along his jaw until I reached his ear, which I nipped gently with my teeth. He wasn’t quite as successful at smothering his groan, nor was the material of his shorts enough to hide his reaction. “There’s something else you should remember about cats,” I whispered in his ear as I ran my tongue along the outer edge.

His hands clenched my waist. “And what would that be?” he asked in a ragged breath.

“They don’t like to be teased, and some like to play around with a set of balls.” As I pulled away, I let my hands slide around the front of his pants, ever so slightly grazing the bulge behind his zipper. I retreated a couple of steps and walked around his car to the passenger side, looking slyly over my shoulder as I did. Nope. I wasn’t going to be a temporary stray. I was going to be a ‘for keeps’ or ‘not at all.’

Tyler remained frozen for about two seconds before he twisted to follow me with his eyes, jaw dropped. Then he threw back his head and laughed. He almost doubled over before he straightened up and was able to open his car door. He twisted in his seat to look at me. “You’re something else, Miss Mitchell,” he said, still chuckling. “What do you say we go grab some dinner and go back to my house and watch a movie or something?”

“I have an idea. Why don’t we pick up some groceries, and I’ll make you dinner.”

We argued for a few minutes about my not needing to do those things for him, but eventually his desire for a home cooked meal won out. We stopped at the store so I could get the necessary items for the meal I had planned. I pulled out my wallet to pay, but he nudged my hand aside and handed the clerk some money.

“It was supposed to be my treat,” I pouted.

“You’re doing the work, I’ll pay for the food,” he insisted with a stern look.

“You’re a lucky girl to find a man who thinks like that,” the clerk said. Tyler raised his eyebrows at me as if to say, ‘see?’ I rolled my eyes, but didn’t want to create a public argument. I started to pick up one of the bags full of groceries, and Tyler grabbed it out of my hand along with the remaining bag.

“Are you trying to make me look like less than a gentleman?” he demanded as we crossed the parking lot. “No,” I responded, confused. He actually sounded irritated. “I was just trying to do my share.”

He placed the bags in the trunk and shut the hatch, bracing himself against it. “Letting someone help isn’t the same as yielding control,” he sighed, looking at me. “I’m not trying to take over your life, Jen. I just want to be a part of it.”

Is that what I was doing? I supposed I hadn’t really thought about it, and I certainly hadn’t recognized that was what I was doing. I was so afraid of losing control of my life that I held back on accepting help on even little things. Not sure what to say, I simply nodded. I started to open my door, but once again I was on the receiving end of Tyler’s glare. Without saying a word he opened my door, waited until I was settled, and shut the door.

The ride home was quiet. I sensed he was frustrated with me. I was busy trying to sort out my conflicting feelings, starting with wanting to make amends with Tyler. “I guess I’m a challenge to have around, huh?” I offered.

He cracked a small grin. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “But I’ve never backed down from a challenge.”

His cell phone rang again. He glanced at it, grimaced, and rejected the call. He tossed it onto a tray between our seats. Within seconds, it rang again. This time, I was able to see the name “Natalie” light up. He just ignored it. Not wanting to make an issue where there wasn’t one, at least not yet, I didn’t say anything. Natalie could be anybody, so she shouldn’t be any concern of mine. Ugh! I hated I was spending so much time thinking about all the calls he’d rejected today. I hated being the jealous girl; it didn’t mesh well with the girl who liked to stay in control.

Tyler pulled up to his house, and this time I waited for him to come around and open the door. “You’re learning,” he smirked.

Thirty minutes later, dinner was well underway. I had decided to make a breaded Marsala chicken. It was in the oven baking, the potatoes were peeled and cut, and the salad was prepped. Tyler was setting the table. It felt so normal, like it was a routine we did every night. I smiled to myself, thinking what a long way he and I had come in a short amount of time.

A vibrating noise drew my attention to the island. Tyler’s phone was blinking with another call from Natalie. Honestly, whoever this chick was, she didn’t take a hint! Tyler came back into the room and started rummaging in a drawer. I handed him his phone.

“Look, I’m really not trying to start something, but we’d have a quieter evening if you would just answer your phone. I’ve already seen her name come up more than once, so you don’t need to hide it. If you made a date with her, you need to talk to her. She obviously isn’t going to quit, so why don’t you just go ahead and talk to her?”

Tyler shut the drawer and just stood still with a wine bottle opener in his hands. “It’s not what it looks like, Jen.”

I stared at him. “Seriously? That’s your best line?” My voice fairly dripped with sarcasm. I couldn’t even determine how he made me feel right now—angry or hurt. “You confuse me with conflicting messages, but I know I’m even worse. Please just deal with her so we can at least enjoy our dinner together without her interrupting, okay?”

He continued to stand there, his shoulders hunched and a grim look on all of his features, while I walked over to the oven to check on the chicken.

As if on cue, the phone rang again. “Shit,” he hissed, but he still didn’t answer the phone. He whipped around, slammed the oven door shut, grabbed my hand and pulled me into the living room.