Stray for You (Rainbow Rescue Cat Café #3)

Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Cameron

THE TEXT COMES IN near the end of my café shift.

Are you free tonight? I need help with something.

I sigh at my phone. Mom’s timing could not be much worse. Things have turned horrifically awkward between Julian and I ever since that conversation last night. He says he’s fine, but I heard him tossing and turning all night. I’ve been anxious all day, sure there’s an uncomfortable conversation waiting for me at home, and Mom’s request is only going to make it worse. I’m sure the last thing Julian wants to hear is that I have another obligation tonight. It might even sound to him like I’m stalling.

There isn’t much I can do about it. I’m not going to tell my mother no. I haven’t told her that Julian is here, so as far as she knows, this is any other week for me. I have no credible excuse.

I text back to tell her I can swing by after work. Before I lose my nerve, I quickly send Julian a similar text explaining that my mom needs help with something and I’ll be home a little later than I thought. Several minutes pass, and he doesn’t respond.

My stomach twists itself into knots. This whole trip is getting worse and worse. At first, this felt like a dream. I couldn’t believe how easy it was being with him, playing house for a week. Things slid off course so quickly I didn’t have time to fix it before it crumbled.

I go to rub at the headache burgeoning in my temples when a warm, furry presence butts against my arm. I look down to find Tux strutting brazenly across the counter of the coffee bar. He rumbles as he butts into my arm again, his little black head rubbing against me.

I give into his entreaties and pet him. I pet all the way from his head down his back to the white tip on his black tail. The rumbles deepen, an occasional higher pitched chirp breaking through. He even flops onto his side and offers me his soft, white belly.

“You’ve got a spirit animal,” River comments as he emerges from the backroom. His yoga class finished a few minutes ago and he disappeared back there to change before leaving.

“He’s just friendly,” I reply. “I’m actually kind of surprised he hasn’t gotten adopted yet. He’s young and loves people.”

“He loves you ,” River says.

Indeed, when River attempts to pet the cat, Tux abruptly jumps back to his feet, hiding his belly. He struts away, annoyed.

“See?” River says. “You should adopt him.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t know anything about taking care of a cat. And I live alone in a little apartment. He might be lonely.”

“He won’t. He’s your soul animal, man. He’ll be happy just being in your space, trust me. You’re his human. He doesn’t want anyone else.”

I want to refute him, but when I think about it, I struggle to find the words to do it. The longer I search my memory, the harder it becomes to think of a time when Tux was friendly with a customer. He mostly hides behind the coffee bar. Often, he’ll sneak out after a crowd or class leaves and demand my attention.

I rub at my temple. I can’t worry about a cat right now. I have enough to worry about with humans.

“Maybe. I’ll think about it,” I say in an attempt to placate River.

He shrugs, but lets it go, likely because he’s eager to leave as well. I’m with him on that. I clean as quickly as I can after I close up the café for the evening, then rush out of there. I need to figure out what Mom needs, then go home and deal with the whole Julian … thing.

He can’t be serious about us being together. We’ve been at each other’s throats for most of our lives. Plus there’s the whole thing with our moms dating. It’s ludicrous to think it could work, even if this week has been kind of fun. Things would be different if it wasn’t a vacation, if it was real life.

I’m a bundle of nerves as I drive to Aunt Mary’s place. I pull up beside the curb and hurry inside before I can spend too long hesitating. Immediately, the smell of something mouth-watering hits my nose and stomach.

I follow the scent toward the kitchen, but hit the living room first. I stop short when I spot Mom relaxing on the couch.

“Oh, you’re out here,” I say. “I thought you were cooking. Whatever it is, it smells amazing.”

She rises from the couch and rounds it to hug me. The moment before she reaches me, I notice a slanted smile on her lips, but I don’t have time to wonder about it before she’s squeezing me tight.

“How have you been, Cameron?” she says.

“Since a few days ago? I mean, pretty much the same.”

She studies me with the only eyes in the world that perfectly mirror my own. Something in her gaze sets off an alarm in the back of my brain.

“Where’s Aunt Mary?” I say. “Is she cooking?”

“No, she’s out today.”

“Then…”

Maybe Mom left something to simmer on its own in a pot. I almost believe that, but then something clatters in the kitchen, and I go stiff with tension. There is someone here besides her, and she hasn’t told me who it is beforehand. What the hell is going on?

“What did you need help with?” I ask slowly.

“It’s in the kitchen,” she says.

My suspicion only deepens. Whatever she brought me here for has to do with a stranger in the kitchen, a stranger she kept hidden as long as possible.

“Mom…”

“Oh, just go already,” she says.

Then she shoves me toward the kitchen. I stumble forward a couple steps. She doesn’t follow, just stands in the living room with her arms crossed under her chest, scowling at me in a way that brooks no argument.

I hesitate as I near the kitchen, unsure what I might find inside. For half a heartbeat, I think it could even be my father, but that’s ridiculous. The bastard hasn’t contacted us in years. He’s not going to start now.

What I find instead drops my jaw to the floor.

Julian bustles about the kitchen. He lifts a lid off a big pot on the stove and peers through a cloud of steam into the boiling water below. Replacing the lid, he flicks on the oven light and crouches down to check in there as well. The smell of chicken and something savory and rich overwhelms my nose from this close, but that isn’t the only reason I swoon when Julian pops back up to his feet and notices me at last.

He freezes. I freeze. The whole world seems to rush past us while we stand trapped in our own private moment of startled confusion. We’re like stones in the middle of a raging river, letting the water gush past while we hold still.

“What are you doing here?” I finally say. “How did you even get here? How do you know where my mother lives? How… How did any of this happen?”

A smile warms his face. It isn’t his usual teasing smile, however. This is soft and cautious, almost nervous, if I believed Julian was capable of nerves. He’s always been aggressively confident in everything he does, especially when it comes to people.

“Okay, slow down,” he says. “First of all, your mom gave me the address. She picked me up so I could start dinner while you were at work.”

His answer only leaves me more confused.

“My mother drove you here? Why were you talking to my mother? There are several pieces missing here, Julian. You need to start explaining.”

He shifts from foot to foot, starting and stopping several times before he finally manages words. Seriously, what is this? Julian isn’t nervous and anxious. That’s my job.

“Okay, Cam, listen,” he says at last. “Things got kind of weird last night. Then you had work today, and I couldn’t do anything but sit around and wonder where it all went wrong. So I asked my mom for your mom’s number and…”

“You what ?”

He flinches at the heat in my voice.

“I was desperate!” he blurts.

“Desperate? Desperate for what?”

“For you, idiot,” he says. “I was desperate not to mess this up with you. Because I love you. …Oh, shit.”

He clamps his teeth together instantly, but no amount of grinding will cage the words that slipped out of him. They hang between us, as thick as that silence that enveloped us last night.

He loves me? He loves me? Julian Brooks cannot love me. Julian Brooks is a nuisance who nearly became my step-brother until he went and ruined it for our moms. He’s a mistake I should be fixing, a temptation I should be resisting. I haven’t, and now he’s in my mother’s house saying he loves me.

As I stand there stunned, Julian steps closer and scoops my hands up in his.

“Cam, I love you,” he repeats. “I have for a long damn time.”

“You were such an asshole.”

“I was a kid,” he says. “A kid desperate for your attention. If the only way I could get it was by annoying you, that seemed better than nothing. Then you moved out here and I thought I’d lost you forever. I never dreamed of getting a second chance, but I got so much more than that. It’s only been a few days, but I’m addicted to this, Cam. I’m not ready to let it go. I’m not ready for it to be a fling we forget about. And I kind of think you aren’t either.”

He peers into my eyes, his a glassy, almost iridescent blue as he searches for something in my gaze. He looks like he could blow away on the breeze, as fragile as dandelion fluff.

“Julian, you shouldn’t even be here,” I say. “This is crazy.”

“Yeah, it is. It’s completely crazy. It’s crazy. I don’t care, though. I’m insane about you, and I’m not going to keep pretending otherwise.”

I watch the rise and fall of his chest, the uncertain flicker of his lips, the curl of his eyebrows. My throat is dry, my hands sweaty in his. This whole thing is completely unhinged. He’s suggesting we be together, and not for a weekend or a week. Like, really be together. Just last night I explained to him why that can’t be, but it doesn’t seem to matter to him.

I startle when hands land on my shoulders.

“Mom,” I gasp.

“Cameron, don’t be cruel,” she says. “Tell him you like him.”

“Mom, I…” My heart drops as I crane to look at her beside me. “But he hurt you. You caught him trying to kiss me, and it ruined your whole relationship. You were happy, and we took it away from you.”

She’s shaking her head before I even finish. “Cameron, even if that was true, it was ages ago. Stacy and I are friends.” Her voice softens. She squeezes my shoulders. “And I don’t think our relationship is what this is really about, sweetie.”

Instantly, emotion corks my throat.

“You can’t stop living your life because of me,” she says quietly. “There’s nothing that hurts a mother more than watching her baby let his life pass him by.”

“But doesn’t it bother you? After all that happened?”

“No, Cameron. That part of my life is over. I let it go a long time ago. I wish you would too.”

For a moment, we all stand there frozen. Then water hisses and Julian curses and lunges for the pot overflowing on the stove. My mother laughs behind her hand and puts her arm around my shoulders.

“Let’s sit down and have dinner,” she says. “Things tend to make more sense on a full stomach.”