She smiles as she ropes her hands around my neck. “That sounds perfect to me. And by the way, the ring was gorgeous. You picked perfectly.”
A burst of pride spreads through me. “Glad I did that right. And that ring is safe and sound inside my signed Los Angeles Dodgers baseball plexiglass holder for that sometime when you’re ready for me to ask again.”
“That ring is keeping good company, then.”
“You know it.” I take her hand, guide her to the couch, and adopt a more serious tone. “Tell me what you learned about your dad,” I say, since her message said she’d heard from the detective and wanted to talk to me.
She draws a deep breath. “I did want to talk to you about him.”
I furrow my brow. “You don’t now?”
She nods, then shakes her head, then laughs. “I do, but I don’t.”
“Dude, I’m confused now.”
More laughter comes from Delaney. “As I was walking over here, thinking about calling him and emailing him, something hit me. I don’t need to know what he’s doing in order to put that bit of the past behind me. Some pieces of the past just need to stay there. And some pieces can become your future.” She runs her fingers along my stubbled jaw. “Like you.”
I swallow roughly, absorbing the enormity of her words. “You and me, angel,” I scratch out, then I press a kiss to her forehead because words fucking fail me sometimes.
She swipes her finger across her phone screen triumphantly. “It’s archived. I don’t need to save his info, but it’ll be there if I need it.”
“It will be there. And I’ll be here for you.”
“I know that. I believe that.”
I raise a hand and run my fingers across her silky hair. “Hey. I’m proud of you for this. What you did—tracking him down, then deciding you didn’t need it. You did all that on your own. That takes serious cojones.”
She wriggles her eyebrows. “Sort of like showing up naked at your ex-girlfriend’s place of work to show how much you want her back.”
I laugh deeply. “She’s not my ex-girlfriend anymore.”
Delaney moves in even closer. “No, she’s not your ex at all.”
I hold up a finger. “And since she’s not my ex, and since I want to prove to her I listened, I got her a gift.”
My lovely, sexy once-and-present girlfriend arches an eyebrow. “Oh, you did now?”
I straighten my shoulders. “I sure did. To show you I want us to move together at a normal pace.”
I take a beat, making her wait for it. She bounces a bit on the cushion. “What is it?” she asks.
I buff my nails on my shirt then blow on them. “You said you wanted a cat, and that I should start with a cat.”
Her jaw crashes to the ground. “You got a cat?”
I shift my palm like a seesaw. “That would be impulsive, and I’m trying to take my time and not cut corners. So rather than getting you a cat, I found you one. And I put money down to adopt him from a cat rescue.” I hold up both hands, a gesture of surrender should I need to. “If you’re not ready for him, the money can go to the rescue in your name. But I do think you’ll like him.”
A grin spreads across her face as I grab my phone, swipe it open, and find a picture. “I believe this pussycat fits your specs.” I clear my throat and read his description. “They call me Mr. Cuddles. I will curl up next to you, snuggle on the pillow, and sleep in your arms. I’ll also rub against you, purr, and even open the door.”
She shoves my chest. “Get out of here.”
I pretend she slammed me into the armrest. “Polydactyl, baby. Mr. Cuddles has six toes.”
She jumps up from the couch and presses her palms together plaintively. “I want him. I want him now.”
The woman is literally buzzing with glee. It’s amazing to watch her excitement. “You don’t want to see him first before you decide?”
She shakes her head. “I’m committing to him. Just like I’m committing to you.” She stands up and heads to the door then glances back at me. “Funny. Even though you don’t have six toes, I like you just fine.”
I raise my right hand, wiggle my fingers, and then stick out my tongue.
Her Epilogue
The cat we renamed Mr. Crazypants was no liar in his ad.
The fluff ball wedges himself between my boyfriend and me that night.
I stare at the orange feline, then at Tyler, and I shrug. “He likes us.”
The cat stretches out his right leg then presses his paw to my chest as he purrs.
“I’d say he likes you,” Tyler says as the pussycat stretches all six toes then inches even closer to me. “Damn, Mr. Cuddles was an appropriate name if I ever heard one.”
I laugh as my new rescued polydactyl kitty snuggles next to me under the covers. “But I like Mr. Crazypants better.”
“He was meant to be yours.”
“Same for you,” I whisper, and Tyler grins, his brown eyes sparkling.
“Now, I know Mr. Crazypants is a grade-A snuggler, but there’s something I’ve got that he doesn’t have,” Tyler says, as he slinks his hand under my camisole, feathering his fingers across my belly.
“A magic cock?” I ask.
He rolls his eyes. “I don’t want to think about a cat’s hardware, please.”
“Then, whatever did you mean?” I ask, batting my eyelashes innocently.