Page 13 of A Daddy for Christmas 3: Nova

“Sounds like our candle preferences align.”

“I hope we uncover more alignments in our future,” I remarked as a loud meow preceded the slap of the cat door.

“Ohh, who’s this?” he asked as he passed me the pineapple on his way to wash his hands.

Merr?

“Seems like he’s asking the same question,” I said as we knelt on either side of the furry bastard who dug claws into my ass in the middle of the night if I accidentally stretched out into the part of the bed that he’d designated as his sleeping space.

“Meet Piper, named for the sandpipers that visit our beaches every fall,” I explained, giving his ears a good scratch. “I thought he was filthy when he first wandered in and tried to scrub some of the brown out of his orange. It took a few well-tamed claw swipes before I got the point. He’s just that color. Not quite orange, not quite brown, but you should see the rings and spots on his belly; it’s the only place he has them.”

“My best friend, Megan, calls those spare-parts kitties,” he explained. “She’s got a pair of the most unique looking cats I’ve ever seen. One has stripes running through orange fur that is so dark it’s almost got a reddish hue to it; only its paws, tail, and ears are solid black, and one of its eyes is ringed in black fur too. His name is Trick, of course; what else would one name a Halloween kitty? The other looks like he was made of marble, with black bits of fur just flecked and swirled through the white like he got splattered. There is absolutely no pattern involved and no consistency when it comes to the size and shapes of the black.”

“Next you’ll tell me his name is Treat,” I said, giving Piper one last scratch before going to retrieve his bowl.

“Nope, her name is Pepper, because she looks like she rolled in it,” he explained.

“Nice. I should have asked before how you liked your steaks.”

“Bloody.”

“Then I’d better go flip them,” I said, washing my hands after giving Piper his bowl of cat food and the handful of treats I always sprinkled on top like a bit of garnish for his majesty.

The scent of rain and beef hit the moment I stepped onto the deck, making my mouth water as I lifted the lid on the grill and quickly flipped the steaks and added the fruit I’d snagged off the counter on the way out. It took no time at all to brush the oil on the peaches or squeeze the lime juice on the pineapple before brushing them with coconut syrup. The scallops I’d add while the meat was resting. In just a few short moments, we’d be seated on the deck with our plates.

And not a moment too soon, either.

Not only could I smell the rain, but I could also hear the rumble in the distance and soon spotted the first flash of lightning on the horizon, amid a dark clump of clouds that was rapidly drifting our way. I turned to shake the sand off the blanket that covered the small table I kept out here and spotted him watching me with Piper in his arms, the cat’s head on his shoulder as he snuggled like he’d known Nova for years.

Well, damn. He’d always been super affectionate, but I’d never known Piper to climb into someone’s arms or lap on the first meeting; he’d always tried to pretend that he was too aloof for that, even though we both knew he wasn’t. Now there he was looking completely content as he lifted a paw to his mouth and began grooming it, whiskers bobbing and occasionally tickling Nova’s cheek, bringing out that brilliant smile of his. It was seriously refreshing to spend time with someone who didn’t want to waste it bitching about all the things that had gone wrong over the course of their day. Granted, he was on vacation, and I’d yet to see him with the phone that had brought out ahint of his growly side on the day we’d met, but the fact that I hadn’t seen it spoke volumes. He’d said that he hated being glued to it, hated having to hand-hold someone through tasks they should already know how to do, and hated being asked questions people would already know the answers to if they’d read the information he’d left for them. I’d heard those words before, from others I knew, including some of those private-lesson clients who showed up already embroiled in a business meeting that wound up running through a chunk of their lesson time.

As long as they paid me, I’d given up on commenting about them wasting time that could be better spent honing their techniques. It was their money. While I was waiting on them, I updated my grocery list, waxed my board if it needed it, paid bills, and did a bit of online shopping if things dragged on too long.

Seeing Nova stick to his guns about unplugging was promising. With only eighteen days left in his vacation, I wanted to see us pack as many enjoyable moments into our time together as we possibly could, which wouldn’t have been easily accomplished with a phone in front of his face.

Merrrrr.

Nova giggled but hugged the loudly purring fuzzball as Piper nuzzled beneath his chin. “Awe, you’re just a big baby, aren’t you? You’re helping me not miss my babies too badly,” he said as he rubbed the spot on the back of Piper’s neck that he loved to have stroked.

“You have cats?”

“Three of them,” he explained as he swayed to the beat of the music drifting into the mudroom from the open kitchen door.

I hoped I wouldn’t have to close the storm shutters later, because I loved it when the scent of rain filled the house, but ifwe got a torrential downpour, I’d have to at least close the side getting hit the hardest or wind up with puddles in there. When the rain came down at the wrong angle, it went right through the screens and onto whatever lay on the other side of the wall, including my bed, which was not a fun experience. Nothing like getting drenched at three am to kickstart the morning.

“Put him down, if he’ll let you, and grab a seat; the food is almost ready,” I said, rubbing Piper’s fur on my way back to the kitchen to wash my hands and retrieve the platter I’d laid out for the steak, as well as the scallops that would take their place on the grill.

I heard Piper’s protest as Nova placed him back on his paws, right before he joined me at the sink.

“You’ve got a beautiful spot here,” he said as he held his hands beneath the pump of the soap dispenser. “It must be amazing to wake up to every morning.”

“It has its moments,” I admitted. “Especially at sunrise. And sunset, and pretty much every point in between, even when the power goes out.”

“What do you do then?”

“Light a few hurricane lamps and watch the shadows dance along the walls until I’m tired enough to go to sleep. I keep a few paperbacks handy, though I prefer audiobooks, and I try to keep my phone charged enough that I can listen to one of the playlists I have downloaded, though mostly I just listen to the rain and make a list of shit I needed to get done around the house if the rain carries on into the day.”

“Must be nice to be able to plan your day around the weather.”