special individuals,” she allowed. “I didn’t really pick Mrs. Snufflepuff. She sort of chose me. Just showed up on my doorstep one day and I couldn’t let her go without something to eat. She kept coming back and then one day, she decided to come in and make herself at home. She’s been living with me ever since. I tried to figure out where she came from, but the only thing I can figure is that she was someone’s pet who ran away and decided to adopt me instead. She’s an independent thinker like that.” Patty smiled and Mario found himself charmed by her outlook on the cat situation.
“You’re probably right. If she keeps coming back to you, then she wants to be with you.”
Patty was going to ask him more about cats—specifically his inner cat—but he pulled into the driveway of his rental house, and the opportunity was lost. She wanted to see his eyes when they talked about his beast. It was too important a conversation to have in the hustle and bustle of parking the car and opening the front door. She would bide her time.
His house was like any other rental. The furniture was impersonal and well used. The colors were neutral and there were no knickknacks. No mementos of his life to show that this place was his—at least for now. That struck her as a little sad, somehow. A guy like Mario should have a home of his own, full of the memories of his life, but somehow, she got the impression that he didn’t have a place like that. He seemed like a rolling stone that had decided to stop its forward momentum here for a little while, before moving on.
That thought made her feel even sadder. She didn’t want him to go anywhere. Her bear and her human side were in full agreement. She wanted a chance to get to know more about this mysterious cat…and maybe keep him…forever.
Whoa. That was a little too serious a thought for a first date. Play it cool, Patty. If she hadn’t managed to scare the guy off with her dominance, she sure didn’t want to come on too strong with the new possessiveness coming from her bear half all of a sudden. Down, girl.
“Make yourself at home,” he told her, sweeping past her on his way to the kitchen. He gestured toward the couch, which looked plush and comfy, and she followed his direction, taking a seat. “I have a California merlot, French burgundy, or a very nice vintage port from Portugal. What’s your pleasure?” he said, standing in front of the open refrigerator. She could just see him through the open arch that led into the kitchen.
“The port sounds good,” she told him, pleased he’d let her decide. A lot of the bossy male bears she’d dated in Grayslake had tried to tell her what she wanted rather than ask. Which was a good part of the reason they didn’t get very far with her.
He came back in holding two snifters with a dash of dark wine in each, and a bottle tucked under his arm. He handed her a glass and placed the bottle on the coffee table between them as he took a seat on the couch close, but not crowding her.
“Interesting choice, the port,” he said, meeting her gaze and holding it while he sniffed at the wine, holding the glass like a lover. His massive hands could be gentle when he wanted, she’d bet. And why was her mouth suddenly drier than the Sahara?
“I like the rich sweetness of port,” she answered, inhaling the scent of the excellent vintage he’d served her.
She didn’t know all that much about other wines, but she had bought port before and recognized the bottle as one of the higher-end vintages. “This smells divine.” The fumes went right to her head. Or maybe it was him. Maybe the way his eyes flared with the emerald green of his cat as he stared at her was what was making her dizzy.
“ Salut .” He lifted his glass to her and she matched his gesture for a toast, allowing the glasses to clink together with a tiny chiming sound.
She took another look at the glass. It was crystal. No way did this come with the