He could join her damn club.
And at that thought, she mentally smacked herself in the forehead. No! There would be no club joining. She’d set boundaries for herself. She was Switzerland. Neutral. No importing or exporting of anything including sexy smoldering glances, hot body parts, nothing.
Period.
Especially not with Keane Winters, thank you very much. And anyway, she didn’t board animals for the general public. Yes, sometimes she boarded as special favors for clients, a service she called “fur-babysitting” because her capacity here was too small for official boarding. If and when she agreed to “babysit” overnight as a favor, it meant taking her boarders home with her, so she was extremely selective.
And handsome men who’d once been terribly mean boys who ditched painfully shy girls after she’d summoned up every ounce of her courage to ask him out to a dance did not fit her criteria. “I don’t board—” she started, only to be interrupted by an unholy howl from inside the pink cat carrier.
It was automatic for her to reach for it, and Keane readily released it with what looked to be comical relief.
Turning her back on him, Willa carried the carrier to the counter, incredibly aware that Keane followed her through her shop, moving with an unusually easy grace for such a big guy.
The cat was continuously howling now so she quickly unzipped the carrier, expecting the animal inside to be dying giving the level of unhappiness it’d displayed.
The earsplitting caterwauling immediately stopped and a huge Siamese cat blinked vivid blue eyes owlishly up at her. It had a pale, creamy coat with a darker facial mask that matched its black ears, legs, and paws.
“Well aren’t you beautiful,” Willa said softly and slipped her hands into the box.
The cat immediately allowed herself to be lifted, pressing her face into Willa’s throat for a cuddle.
“Aw,” Willa said gently. “It’s alright now, I’ve got you. You just hated that carrier, didn’t you?”
“What the ever-loving hell,” Keane said, hands on hips now as he glared at the cat. “Are you kidding me?”
“What?”
He scowled. “My great-aunt’s sick and needs help. She dropped the cat off with me last night.”
Well, damn. That was a pretty nice thing he’d done, taking the cat in for his sick aunt.
“The minute Sally left,” Keane went on, “this thing went gonzo.”
Willa looked down at the cat, who gazed back at her, quiet, serene, positively angelic. “What did she do?”
Keane snorted. “What didn’t she do would be the better question. She hid under my bed and tore up my mattress. Then she helped herself to everything on my counters, knocking stuff to the floor, destroying my laptop and tablet and phone all in one fell swoop. And then she . . .” He trailed off and appeared to chomp on his back teeth.
“What?”
“Took a dump in my favorite running shoes.”
Willa did her best not to laugh out loud and say “good girl.” It took her a minute. “Maybe she’s just upset to be away from home, and missing your aunt. Cats are creatures of habit. They don’t like change.” She spoke to Keane without taking her gaze off the cat, not wanting to look into the dark, mesmerizing eyes that didn’t recognize her because if she did, she might be tempted to pick one of the tiaras displayed on her counter and hit him over the head with it.
“What’s her name?” she asked.
“Petunia, but I’m going with Pita. Short for pain in the ass.”
Willa stroked along the cat’s back and Petunia pressed into her hand for more. A low and rumbly purr filled the room and Petunia’s eyes slitted with pleasure.
Keane let out a breath as Willa continued to pet her. “Unbelievable,” he said. “You’re wearing catnip as perfume, right?”
Willa raised an eyebrow. “Is that the only reason you think she’d like me?”
“Yes.”
Okay then. Willa opened her mouth to end this little game and tell him that she wasn’t doing this, but then she looked into Petunia’s deep-as-the-ocean blue eyes and felt her heart stir. Crap. “Fine,” she heard herself say. “If you can provide proof of rabies and FVRCP vaccinations, I’ll take her for today only.”
“Thank you,” he said with such genuine feeling, she glanced up at him.
A mistake.
His dark eyes had warmed to the color of melted dark chocolate. “One question.”
“What?” she asked warily.
“Do you always wear X-rated headbands?”
Her hands flew to her head. She’d completely forgotten she was wearing the penis headband. “Are you referring to my reindeer antlers?”
“Reindeer antlers,” he repeated.
“That’s right.”
“Whatever you say.” He was smiling now, and of course the rat-fink bastard had a sexy-as-hell smile. And unbelievably her good parts stood up and took notice. Clearly her body hadn’t gotten the memo on the no-man thing. Especially not this man.
“My name’s Keane by the way,” he said. “Keane Winters.”
He paused, clearly expecting her to tell him her name in return, but she had a dilemma now. If she told him who she was and he suddenly recognized her, he’d also remember exactly how pathetic she’d once been. And if he didn’t recognize her then that meant she was even more forgettable than she’d thought and she’d have to throw the penis headband at him after all.
“And you are . . .?” he asked, rich voice filled with amusement at her pause.
Well, hell. Now or never, she supposed. “Willa Davis,” she said and held her breath.
There was no change in his expression whatsoever. Forgettable then, and she ground her back teeth for a minute.
“I appreciate you doing this for me, Willa,” he said.
She had to consciously unclench her teeth to speak. “I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Petunia,” she said, wanting to be crystal clear. “And you’ll need to be back here to pick her up before closing.”
“Deal.”
“I’ve got a few questions for you,” she said. “Like an emergency contact, your driver’s license info, and”—God help her, she was going to hell if she asked this but she couldn’t help herself, she wanted to jog his memory— “where you went to high school.”