Dream Spinner (Dream Team Book 3), Kristen Ashley [reading eggs books txt] 📗

You can do anything you

want, baby.

Upon me reading this, Dainty Cat joined me again in the kitchen in order to confirm her worst fears: I was still there.

She then left.

In that time, I hadn’t gotten over Axl’s last text.

But thirty minutes wasn’t three hours and I was still in his tee with bedhead.

I dealt with that, made his bed, found he had European pillows piled on the floor next to one of the nightstands. (A man who had European pillows? How did I get this lucky?)

And I was out on the deck with my coffee and plenty of time to text Brett.

Thank you again for not letting

me blow it.

And I know your sisters aren’t in Alaska

to put space between them and you.

I hope you feel you can tell me the

story one day.

What I know right now is that I’ve

never had a big brother, but still,

you’re the best one ever.

I soaked up some vitamin D, drank my coffee out of Axl’s hip coffee glass, and got back from Brett:

Pleased it worked out, sweetheart.

Speak soon. ♥♥

Now seriously.

What motherfucker put heart emojis on his texts?

I was still contemplating this, and a fair few other things (most of those other things having to do with the Jacuzzi, none of them having to do with contacting Dad to tell him it was pizza delivery for him that night—I’d tackle that later, after some of my joy died down and he had less time to make a fuss about it) when I heard a car approach then a garage door go up.

Not knowing the neighborhood sounds, and since the houses were close in Baker, I couldn’t be sure, but just in case it was Axl, I got up and went into the kitchen.

I was done with my coffee anyway and needed to clean the glass.

I was right.

It was Axl.

And as I set the rinsed glass in the dishwasher, he came in the back door, wearing navy cargos and a navy tee.

We both froze in place and stared at each other.

We did this for a long time, like if one of us moved, the other would go up in a puff of smoke and under no circumstances could that happen.

Then we did this for even longer, like we were prepared to do it forever.

And I had to admit I could do this forever, because Axl was just that easy to look at.

But more, I liked what this said. How much it meant to him I was standing in his kitchen, which made it safe for me to share how much it meant to be there.

Dainty Cat broke it up by slithering to Axl and rubbing up against his leg.

I chanced speaking.

“Your cat doesn’t like me.”

“My cat doesn’t like me,” he replied. “She’s only being nice because you’re here and now she has someone to like less than she likes me, and she wants to make sure you know it.”

I burst out laughing.

Axl moved to me while I did it, and he was grinning.

He stopped close, though he could have gotten closer.

Like, hello kiss closer.

Sadly, he didn’t give me hello kiss close or a hello kiss.

When I got a handle on my laughter, I said, “If asked, I would have said you were a dog person.”

He shook his head. “Dogs are easy. You get a dog. You train him what to do, he does it. There’s no fun in that. You can’t train a cat. A cat does what a cat wants to do. It likes who it wants to like. A dog lives to please you. A cat lives to be pleased. Randomly, every week or two, she curls into me while I watch television. I feel like I’ve won a medal.”

Through all of this, I was smiling up at him, and when he stopped speaking, I didn’t quit.

Then he kept talking.

“Though, if I wake up in the middle of the night, almost always, she’s with me at my feet or in the bend of my knees. Last night, she slept on the back of the couch. She senses me awake and then she’s gone. So I know somewhere along the line, I won her. She just wants to make sure I keep putting in the work.”

Keep putting in the work.

I was still smiling, but my heart had started beating a lot faster.

I ignored that and asked, “What’s her name?”

“Cleo, after Cleopatra, because she’s a queen.”

Oh wow.

Okay.

I was getting that he really liked his cat.

“Did you rescue her?”

“Nope. I stole her.”

I felt my head twitch in surprise. “You stole her?”

“Yep.” He nodded. “My neighbors are assholes. Their kids are arguably bigger assholes. I saw the kids out there with her, I knew shit was about to get real. I was right. I didn’t like what I saw, and I won’t share what it was. I was deciding how to intervene when I was coming home from a run, and Cleo, still a little kitten, was in their backyard alone, freaked, mewing repeatedly, wandering the grass like it was a war zone and every step she took might mean she’d hit a mine. I jumped their fence and took her. The dad saw me, came over and got in my shit. I told him either he let me keep the cat or I take the cat to the vet and he can talk to a cop about why he’s letting his kids abuse an animal. And I advised him to keep that in mind if he thinks about getting his kids another animal. Haven’t talked to the man since. They still live there, and Cleo’s three years old. And they never got another animal.”

He hadn’t shared the exact truth.

He did, indeed, rescue his cat.

Just not the normal way.

So, Axl was a man who would rush into danger to rescue Ryn and jump a fence to rescue a cat.

Yeah.

How did I get this lucky?

I didn’t want to ask my next.

But I asked.

“Did you …take her to see a vet?”

He nodded, this time shortly.

“She was malnourished, dehydrated and favoring