Mr. Purr-fect and the Geek (Gone Geek, #2) Read online

  “Chundrusheker?”

  “Close.”

  “Found him. I think. Does he look like one of those Bollywood hotties?”

  “Yes.”

  “Dude, you should have asked him to take his shirt off! Those abs...”

  “What?”

  “He is all over this one site. I think he’s involved with this animal charity thing. There’s a picture of him, soaking wet with puppies. Dear lord. And you didn’t shove him in your car? Who are you, and what have you done with Miranda?”

  “I thought I should run it by one of you! You know me and my problems.” She turned the wheel and pulled into the driveway of her house. “We’re home, Lola!”

  “Go back to that clinic now and kidnap that man. I don’t care if he wants you to be his sugar mama or if he is your stalker, he might be worth it. Damn.”

  “No, I’m not kidnapping him. I can...just invite him over.” Miranda slid out of the car, twitching her skirt into place.

  “Yes. Tonight. And chain him to your bed.”

  “Shut up. I called you to talk some sense into me.”

  “And I’m telling you, unless he’s seriously crazy or narcissistic—have fun. You need fun in your life. Actually, even if he is crazy, I bet you could cure it with a ball gag for a night. You need to let loose a little, and that man’s body is a playground. If he starts asking for stuff or wanting a lock of your hair, then call me to tell you no. Until then—Oh my God—it literally is! There are kittens and puppies playing on him. I’m sending you the video now. Hell, I’m sharing this with everyone I know.”

  “I’m hanging up on you. Maybe Tamara or Piper will be more reasonable.”

  “Nope. Tamara has a crazy sex date with the professor, starting—half an hour ago. And Piper is working. It’s crunch time, remember?”

  “And here I was wondering why I called you.”

  “You love me, boo.”

  “I do. Bye.”

  Miranda hauled the carrier into the house and let Lola out. The cat cast her a baleful glare over her shoulder before slinking off to the sofa.

  By the time Miranda made it to her tablet, the video Rashae had tagged her in had a couple dozen likes and plenty of drooling commentary. She kicked off her shoes and curled up next to Lola, who was still ignoring her, and watched four or five videos of Raul playing with various cute, baby animals. It all seemed to be linked to some sort of animal rescue charity thing. The call to action message wasn’t very strong, but the videos were candy. The website was sorely lacking and their branding wasn’t quite as strong as it could be, but having Raul front and center was a smart choice.

  People liked baby animals.

  Hot guys with baby animals?

  It was a perfect storm.

  Miranda pulled out the business card and bit her lip.

  He just wanted to see Lola. His former cat. There was no harm in that. And she was the one with the crazy libido and issues. He probably only saw her as another pet parent.

  Whatever.

  It would be cool to have someone around who liked Lola. A person who knew nothing about her paranoia. A normal guy.

  Miranda plugged in his number and shot off a text.

  What’s your schedule like? Any free evenings?

  Frank Kellis squeezed the stress ball and watched the little red blip on his screen.

  She was home. Where she belonged.

  No, that wasn’t quite right.

  She belonged to him, but Miranda was a feisty creature. She needed taming. In time, she would come to him. He was certain of it, now that the last boy toy was out of her system. It’d been—what? A year? A year and a half, since he’d taught that pitiful excuse for a man a lesson?

  Frank sipped his tea from the mug he’d taken from Miranda’s home and smiled.

  All in good time.

  2.

  Raul got out of his Jeep, practically bouncing on his toes. Ever since yesterday, he’d been vibrating with...excitement. And it wasn’t just because Penny was alive.

  Though, with his luck, Miranda was married with a full house. A woman with those curves and that smile should have someone to appreciate her on a daily basis.

  The house was in an older part of town, where each home was unique and loaded with character. Miranda’s sported newer, dark-gray siding, white windows, a red door, and a chimney with smoke curling out of it. He grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and did his best not to bound up the stairs to the bungalow’s doorstep.

  He’d paused only to shower and change after work. A detail his stomach was reminding him of very loudly right now—but Penny!

  Lola.

  Shit.

  He was going to have to remember that.

  Raul knocked out a rhythm on the door. He grasped the shoulder strap with both hands and waited.

  The seconds ticked by.

  No answer.

  He tapped his toes and glanced at the big windows in front.

  Hm. The lights were on and there was clearly a fire going, so where was she?

  The street was mostly devoid of cars, so there had to be a rear entry.

  Had she run out for a moment? Did she not hear the door? What was she doing? Should he text her? Leave and try again another day?

  One more try.

  He knocked a second time, firmer, louder.

  Soft, distant thud-thud-thuds beat out a rhythm, steadily growing louder.

  The door jerked open.

  He stared at Miranda, a hello frozen on the tip of his tongue.

  Miranda was out of breath, eyes wide, a wrinkle of worry creasing her brow.

  “What’s wrong?” Raul stepped in past her, looking around for some emergency.

  “I can’t find Lola.” Miranda paced away from the door, her bare feet slapping on the hardwood.

  From the entry he could see into an office space on his right and to an open-concept living room, dining area and kitchen to the left and in front of him. The furniture was neat, if worn, and there was the tale-tell cat hair on everything.

  “Don’t freak out.” He looped the bag over his head and set it down. “When’s the last time you saw her? Remember, she’ll be nesting, so she’s probably found a spot and settled in.”

  Miranda shoved a hand through her short, curling hair. Unlike yesterday’s sexy black wrap number, she wore knee-length yoga pants and a zip-up track jacket. Damn, but those curves were kicking.

  “She was on the couch this morning when I left.” Miranda gestured at the L-shaped sectional with a cat-shaped dip on one cushion.

  “Okay, do you mind if I look around?”

  “Please. I’ve been looking for her since I got home.” She pushed her hand through her hair yet again. Each time her hair seemed to get...bigger. Curlier.

  Raul checked behind the sofa and under it.

  “Anyone else home who might have seen her?” He winced. It was a logical question, albeit a fishing expedition as well.

  “No...I live by myself.”

  “Anyone have a key that might have come over? Let her out?” He made a circuit of the living room, but nothing stuck out as a good nesting place for a mama cat.

  “No, I...um...” Miranda followed him into her office.

  “Wow. You a fan?” He gestured to the poster sized video game covers of one of the earlier Drudge games, a post-apocalyptic RPG multiplayer series he dug.

  “Yeah.” She answered without actually hearing him.

  Right.

  She was more concerned about finding Lola, which he appreciated.

  They checked closets, the kitchen cabinets and pantry. They went on a tour of the basement, which—holy shit—was one of the best, tricked out theater-slash-video game rooms he’d ever seen. The upstairs guest rooms appeared to have been untouched by humans and cat alike. He had to wait a moment while Miranda tidied up her bedroom for a quick once-over there.

  But still—no Lola.

  “Where could she be?” Miranda perched on the edge of her bed
, knees drawn up. If she wasn’t so distraught he’d call her cute, what with the pouting lip.

  “She’s here somewhere. What about outside?”

  “She doesn’t go outside.”

  “Then how’d she get knocked up?”

  “I have no idea, but Lola is an indoor cat.”

  “Can we look outside?”

  “Fine.” Miranda rolled her eyes and led the way back through the kitchen and out into the back yard.

  The tall privacy fence made the small space intimate. The patio was covered by a trellis draped with vines of some sort.

  “What’s that?” Raul gestured at what looked suspiciously like—

  “Oh, that’s my cat hide. I made it last fall for this feral cat that was hanging out here.”

  Raul crouched in front of the plastic tubs and grinned. He could already hear the tiny mewls for attention.

  “I found Lola.”

  “What?”

  He pried one lid off, lifted a layer of Styrofoam out, then the second lid.

  Sure enough, Lola glared up at them from her prone position, nursing her litter.

  “Lola!”

  “Is the heating pad still on?” Raul peered behind the tub.

  “Yes. It’s on a timer... How did she get out here? Why did you come outside to have your babies, Lola? What on earth has gotten into you?”

  “Well, it’s the perfect nest. How about we take the whole thing inside?” Raul replaced the lid, foam and lid. “This is a pretty nice hide.”

  “Thanks, there was a YouTube video.”

  “Do you want to...wipe it down first or...?”

  “What?” The way Miranda stared at him, like what are you saying, hit him right in the gut.

  A woman after his own heart.

  The dust, leaves and stuff clinging to the outside of the tubs didn’t matter as much as getting the mama and her babies back inside. He unplugged the heating pad and gently lifted the whole hide, careful to not jostle Lola or the litter. Miranda led the way back inside, holding the doors and fussing until they had the new furry family set up in a sheltered corner of the living room.

  “Should they come out of there? Do I need to get something else for them to go into?” She peered over his shoulder at the kittens while Raul eyeballed them.

  “No, actually this is perfect. It makes sense why she’d pick this for her nest. It’s warm, sheltered and the kittens can’t crawl out of it. Plus, at this age they can’t regulate their body heat so she’d want to put them somewhere warm. I’d like to see how the heating pad is placed under the tub later, but for now I say leave them be. She probably had them this morning, so they’re all pretty tired.”

  “Oh my God, they’re adorable little jelly beans.” Miranda placed one hand on his shoulder and leaned over the kittens, cooing at them while Lola seemed to roll her feline eyes.

  If Raul had to guess, he didn’t think this was Lola’s first litter either. She was perfectly at ease. Which was why the one kitten pushed off to the side worried him.

  “Not to concern you...”

  “What?” Miranda lowered to her knees, then to one hip, legs curled up under her.

  “See that one black kitten?”

  “Yeah...”

  “I want you to watch that one. If she doesn’t appear to be nursing it—”

  “Why wouldn’t she?”

  “Well, that’s what I’m saying. Mamas sometimes won’t nurse runts or kittens that have birth defects.”

  “Can you check it out? You’re a vet.”

  “Right. But it might not be hungry, it could be sleeping, I’d like to just wait and watch a bit.”

  “Will it die?”

  “Hopefully not, but a litter of seven is pretty big. Statistically—”

  “No, no, no, do not talk numbers to me when my cat is involved.”

  Raul bit his lip to keep from smiling. Damn, she was cute.

  “Chances are it’s a runt, and sometimes you have to help runts out in the beginning. Penny—sorry—Lola, was a runt.” He reached in and gave the proud mama a head scratch.

  “Just call her Penny. She can be Penny Lola Marie.” Miranda leaned against the side of the tub, smiling down at the kittens. “I just don’t get how your ex could take her away. What kind of a bitch was she? Sorry—that’s my mouth speaking before I think.”

  “I...yeah. I can’t think of her as anything but the Ex-Bitch, so I’m biased.”

  “Really—you have to tell me how a person does that sort of thing.”

  Shit.

  Raul rubbed his face.

  Where did he start?

  “Navya and I...” He blew out a breath. “Our parents were friends. We grew up together. It just made sense when we were in high school that we would date. I liked her, but we were different. Her parents were immigrants, mine were second and first generation Americans. There was a cultural divide we never really got over, and then we were in college and...”

  “Yikes. I’m going to need food if this story is much longer.”

  “I’m starving.”

  “Is it rude if I say I want Indian food now?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  He pushed up to his feet and offered Miranda a hand up. She led the way back to the kitchen and pulled a takeout menu from a drawer crammed full of them. They phoned in the order after some discussion on appetizers, and took up seats on the sofa within easy distance of the kittens.

  “Okay, you were kids, you dated, you went to college—go.” Miranda twisted to face him, legs curled under her.

  “Looking back, I can see the warning signs.”

  “You always can.”

  “My plan was to go to community college until I had to take core classes, then switch to university and start vet school.”

  “Which is so smart. I did the same thing.”

  “She didn’t like that. She wanted to go to university together.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I knew the day her parents offered to pay the difference that it was a bad deal.”

  “They—what?”

  “Yeah.” Raul grimaced. Eighteen-year-old him had seen a golden opportunity to have it all. But it came with a price.

  “So—what happened?”

  “I took it. They paid for everything.”

  “And the catch?”

  “They assumed it was time to start planning the wedding.”

  “Okay. It kind of makes sense.”

  “We made it through vet and law school, only because we didn’t have the same schedules. By the time we graduated...we hated each other. We were fundamentally different people, and growing up only increased the divide.”

  “But your families were super into the idea of you being married?”

  “We tried. And we hated it. Navya never liked the idea that I just wanted to be a vet. It was always money with her. How was I going to make more money? What kind of money was there in a vet clinic? Why not be a doctor?”

  “So she resented what you wanted to do because it didn’t fit her ideal?”

  “Pretty much. We could never agree about our priorities. She wanted money. I wanted to follow my dreams.” He grimaced.

  “What’s so bad about that?”

  “Have you ever had a dream no one else understood?”

  “Yes.” Miranda replied so fast, without a shred of doubt.

  “Yeah? What was it?”

  Miranda stared at Raul, her stomach knotting up. He resented his ex-bitch for being a woman with tenacity who followed her dreams, albeit dreams Raul didn’t share. Miranda swallowed. A small voice that sounded an awfully lot like Rashae yelled at her from the recesses of her mind. She toyed with her necklace, twisting the charm around. Why was it at work she could bust balls and not give a fuck? But take her out of the office and she cringed at making anyone the slightest bit unhappy?

  If Raul resented her for her dreams—and succeeding—that was on him. Not her.

  The Rashae-voice was right.

>   Damn her.

  “I started a video game company,” she said.

  “No shit?” He grinned. “How’d that go?”

  “Not so great the first time around.”

  “Which one? I was wondering why a girl had such an epic video game set-up.”

  “Because video games are for boys?” Okay, now she wanted to strangle him.

  “No, just—”

  A knock at the door saved him from whatever hole he was about to drown in.

  Miranda crossed to the door, rolling her eyes. It was too much to ask for Dr. Dreamy to be perfect, but that was her luck. The guys she liked were perfect in one regard, and utterly lacking in another. The way things went for her, he’d be calling her a paranoid crazy lady next, the same way her last boyfriend had just before he walked out on her. Which was why the only men in her life were ones on pages.

  It was possible the total package didn’t exist for her, and she’d live her life as a crazy cat lady.

  There were worse fates in life.

  She pulled the door open and signed for the food. Raul was there, taking the food and being generally overly helpful. The way a man is when he realizes the error of his ways.

  “I did not mean to sound that way—that girls can’t like video games—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll still kick your ass.”

  “Is that a promise?” Raul did this thing with his face. It was a smile, but it was more than that. It was...sexy...inviting... If she weren’t irritated with him, her panties might be a little bit wet. The smile slowly dimmed. “I said something wrong, didn’t I?”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  “When a woman says, it’s fine, it’s not fine.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Miranda.” He wrapped his hand around her wrist, not too tight, more like a steadying touch. Damn him, but he even looked earnest. Like he really meant it. And maybe he did. “Seriously, I didn’t mean to sound like girls can’t be into video games.”

  “It’s...it’s not you so much as I’m really sick of that mind set. I’ve worked in and around the video game industry since I was in high school. I put myself through college as an admin at a game company and then got in on the development and operations side of things. It’s like...I can’t do anything good enough to escape that, you’re a girl, label. I’m always the crazy girl.”