But then he put his phone away and pulled her against him. She suspected he’d have kissed her, but he was wearing his dumb helmet again. “Just ditching my brother. I’m all yours for the evening.”
“Then let’s blow this joint,” she teased, feeling lighthearted and, okay, a little giddy. She didn’t even care that her knee ached. Fuck the knee. She’d just had incredible sex on top of a sundial (or at least its rocky stand) and with a gorgeous, sexy man.
And they were going home to have sex again. This had definitely turned out to be her night. Edie put her hand in his and they cut through a few back rooms at the party, avoiding conversations, and made their way out the front to where the valets were waiting.
“Leaving already, Mr. Sullivan?” one asked as he approached with Edie.
“Already,” Magnus agreed, not expanding on the subject. “Got my car nearby?”
“We were very careful with it,” the valet agreed enthusiastically, and Edie wondered about it until she saw the damn car.
A Maserati. Jeez. She eyed it with a bit of trepidation. At least there wouldn’t be a driver to sit in the front seat and judge them as they went back to her tiny townhouse full of cats. “I sure hope the interior’s roomy,” she commented to Magnus.
For a moment, the look on his face was stricken. “Shit.”
“It’s fine,” Edie said quickly. “Just drive fast.”
He laughed. “Now that, I can do.”
They made it back to Edie’s place in record time, zooming down the highways at high speed. The interior of the Maserati was actually pretty comfortable, but she was in a hurry to get home with Magnus, just in case he changed his mind about wanting to be with her at the last minute. All of this felt surreal. Like if she blinked her eyes or snapped her fingers, she’d wake up and this gorgeous guy who had an incredible dick and wanted to be with her would disappear and she’d be Cat Lady Edie again.
Which was not such a bad person to be, of course, but it was lonely.
They’d stopped at a corner store and Edie had waited in the car while Magnus bought condoms, and then went to Edie’s little townhouse she shared with Bianca. As they pulled up at the front, Magnus frowned at the sight of it. “Stairs? With your knee?”
“I lived here before I hurt my knee. After I did, I had Bianca move in with me,” she explained. “It helps cut back on rent expenses. She has the upstairs and I take the downstairs.”
“You should have gotten someplace more suited for your leg,” he told her as they got out of the car.
“Well, I kept checking my wallet, and a ton of money never appeared, so I made due with what I had,” Edie snapped at him. “Can we just go inside already or did you want to judge my parking space and how far it is from the door, too?”
Magnus chuckled and moved to her side, pulling her stiff body against him. “Sorry if I’m being all alpha male on you. I just don’t like the thought of you being shut off from part of your own house.” He leaned in and kissed her nose. “It makes me feel protective of you.”
It was hard to stay mad at a man when he kissed your nose and told you he wanted to take care of you. Edie gave him another grumpy look and wriggled out of his arms. “Come on. I’ll let you meet my cats.”
Edie was a little embarrassed to let Magnus into her house. The place was neat enough, but it showed signs of age, with worn carpets and popcorn ceilings. Edie’s portion of the townhouse was tiny, too, with a small entryway that led right to the small corridor off the stairs that served as a living room and kitchen. Tucked under the stairs was Edie’s small bathroom, and her bedroom—originally meant to be an office—was in the back of the townhouse. Her furniture was clearly cat-loved, from the sofa that was clawed up on both arms and the scratching posts dotting the tiny living room. There was cat hair on the throw blankets, and her poor, sweet cats were curled up on every available comfortable surface. There were also covered litterboxes in several strategic corners of the room, and even though she scooped them out twice a day, she still cringed to see Magnus’s gaze scan her small townhouse. His gaze landed on the stairs, though, and the gate at the base that kept the cats from going to Bianca’s part of the house. “I take it that’s Bianca’s section?”
She nodded and moved forward, her hands fluffing a pillow on the couch and shooing away Tripod, one of her three-legged adoptees. “That’s hers, yeah. I know this is a little cramped and crazy-cat-lady-ish but I didn’t have much of a choice. Each of these cats came to me when there were no other options for them. I took them in and loved them when no one else would.” She picked up Chunk and rubbed one of her missing ears. “They’re all here because they have medical issues, or they’re old, or they’re ugly and they wouldn’t get adopted because there’s always a cute kitten instead. So they come to me.”
He said nothing, only studied her face. “How many do you have?”
“Seven.” So she was a bit defensive about the number. So what.
“In this tiny townhouse?” He glanced around, frowning.
“Well, I keep asking the cats to work but they’re terrible at holding down a job,” she said sarcastically.
His mouth tugged into a smile. “I’m not judging you, just the size of your living quarters. You need more room.”
“It’s on the list,” she said, keeping her voice light. “Right after ‘making a lot more money,’ I’ll get right on that second part.”