Hairless Harassment

Chapter Fifteen

I slept better with Nan staying the night. I still locked the door to my tower, but at least we were making progress in turning the giant manor house into a home. Soon my boxes would all be unpacked, Nan would officially move in with all the colorful old knick knacks that reminded me of growing up, and we’d hopefully catch Harlow’s killer, too.

Lately, that was the stuff of dreams—or at least my deranged ones.

Feeling wonderfully rested, I awoke the next morning to the most glorious smell in all of human history.

Coffee!

Taking the stairs two at a time, I bolted toward the kitchen. There, I found my dear, sweet, beautiful Nan standing with a polka-dotted apron tied around her teeny waist and a giant, steaming pot of coffee in her hand.

“Good morning,” she trilled.

I’d have given her the hug to end all hugs if I wasn’t worried that doing so might spill the coffee. In my huge rush to get everything moved in time, I hadn’t even thought of what having Nan as my roommate would mean. So what if I was terrified of coffee makers after my near death experience? I still longed for that delicious, life-giving brew, and now, thanks to Nan, I would actually have it.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I cried as she grabbed my freshly washed crazy cat lady mug and poured me a cup. “Where’d we get the coffee maker, anyway?” I asked, after that first glorious sip of heaven on my tongue.

“I brought it with me,” she explained, bending down to check on whatever she had in the oven. I hadn’t initially smelled anything over the intoxicating aroma of the coffee, but now that I’d adjusted a bit, the scent of banana bread became unmistakable.

“You’re still afraid of coffee makers, right?” Nan turned back to me with a bright smile. She’d always been a morning person. Me, not so much.

I nodded anyway, too deliriously happy to be embarrassed as I took another gratifying sip.

“Well, then I guess I’ll just have to be in charge of breakfast from here on out,” she declared as she continued to move about the kitchen like she owned the place. I guess, in a way, she now did.

“Hey,” I said after I’d consumed enough caffeine to perk up my brain. “Where did you sleep last night?” I’d had Ethel’s old bedroom set hauled away, and Nan hadn’t officially moved in yet, which meant her bedroom set wasn’t here yet, either.

“I roomed with our two hairless visitors,” she said her eyes aglow as she squeezed my bicep. “That window seat was so comfy.”

“Nan,” I scolded. “You’re not supposed to sleep there.”

She brushed off my concern by waving a dish towel in my direction. “I slept perfectly well, thank you.”

“Regardless, I should probably call someone to at least get your bed moved here.” I drained the rest of my coffee as I thought.

Seeing I’d finished, Nan immediately plucked the mug from my hands and topped it off.

“Oh, I could ask Brock,” I realized as my brain continued to wake up. “He’s already planning tp come by today to offer me some quotes on a few rennos around here. I’m sure he’d be happy to haul whatever you need over in that truck of his.”

Suddenly, I remembered another thing we hadn’t yet discussed. “When I ran into him yesterday, he said you had an offer on your house?”

Nan gloated at this news. “That’s right. And I bet you’ll never guess who.”

Normally I didn’t like guessing games, but I was still so happy from the coffee that I became a willing participant. “Mom and Dad?”

“Ha! Like they’d ever leave their place by the bay. Guess again.” She wiped at the counter distractedly as she watched me try to puzzle out an answer.

“Is it somebody I went to school with?” I guessed. I couldn’t think of anyone I knew in town who was looking for a new place, so I was completely stumped here.

Nan smiled and shook her head. “Nope, but it is someone we both know. Someone who’s quite handsome.”

I leaned back against the counter, mug still in hand. “Hmm.” Nan was a shameless flirt and found half our town handsome by my most recent tally. I knew her latest crush was on the much younger Officer Bouchard, but he didn’t strike me as the type to appreciate a retro, cozy Cape Cod in a landlocked neighborhood.

Unable to control her excitement anymore, Nan burst out with her big reveal. “Why, it’s our very own Charles!”

I laughed at her joke, but Nan just kept staring at me with that earnest look in her eyes. “Wait. You’re serious?” I squeaked.

She bobbed her head enthusiastically and did a happy, little twirl. “Dead serious. He said it was time he put down some roots now that he’d made partner.”

“Nan, that’s wonderful!” I cried, dancing with her now. “Since we’re all friends, you may even be able to visit your old house from time to time.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” she said, her eyes glinting with untold mischief as she transitioned into a fast foxtrot that I had no hopes of replicating. “A happy ending for everyone.”

A gentle rap sounded on the front door, drawing both of our attention.

“I’ll get it,” I told Nan, placing a hand on her shoulder as she stilled her movements. “You stay with the banana bread. I want a piece as soon as it’s out of the oven.”

“Roger that,” she said, offering me a salute for reasons I didn’t understand. Then again, if I understood even half of Nan’s schemes, I counted it a good day. So far we were off to a great start.

I padded toward the foyer with bare feet, messy bed-head, and a half-full mug of coffee. When I spied who was on the other side of the stained-glass windows, my heart screeched to a stop. Okay, not really, but it may as well have, given the absolute shock and horror I felt in that moment.

Brock saw me before I was able to duck out of view and gave a friendly wave. There would be no retreating now. Oh, poop.

I turned my back and wiped the sleep from my eyes, then put on my best closed-mouth smile and opened the door. “Good morning.”

“I hope it’s not too early,” he said, looking me up and down as he assessed my hot pink pajama pants and spaghetti string tank top.

“Nope, you’re right on time. Come on in. Nan!” I called back toward the kitchen. “Brock’s here and we’re going upstairs.”

“Okay, boss!” she shouted back.

Brock frowned and pressed his hand to the stair bannister, stopping in place. “Yeah, about that… Could you please not call me Brock anymore?”

This surprised me so much I forgot about my desire to keep my mouth closed until I’d had the chance to brush. “What? Why not? Isn’t it your name?”

He sucked air through his teeth before saying, “It is, but that name is so associated with the trial now, I kind of cringe every time I hear it.”

That definitely made sense. The man had been accused of a double homicide, and for months everyone in Glendale was convinced of his guilt. I didn’t blame him for wanting some way to mark a fresh start.

“Oh, of course. What should I call you instead?” I asked with another closed-mouth smile.

He let out a giant sigh of relief. “How about Cal? Short for Calhoun, so it’s still my name, but it’s not tainted like the longer version.”

“You’ve got it, Cal,” I said, then made a dorky, little clicking noise and pointed my finger at him like a fake gun. Really not cool.

He seemed to find it endearing, though, because he laughed. “Thank you, Ang.”

We headed upstairs to the room that served as both my future home library and the makeshift kitty prison. Octo-Cat stood stationed outside the door, appearing as if he hadn’t slept a wink all night. That would be like eschewing sleep for several days, had he been human. I shuddered to think at just how cranky he would be until our Sphynx visitors were released—or at least transferred to another prison.

“Go get some sleep, you,” I told him in a cutesy voice, the kind a normal cat owner might use when talking to a normal cat.

He yawned and stumbled off.

After entering carefully to make sure no Sphynxes escaped in the process, I turned to Brock and explained, “This is my favorite room in the whole house. I want to build shelves right onto the walls, spruce up the floors, add some more lighting, and turn it into a library. What do you think?”

“This is the perfect place for that,” he said, turning in a slow circle in the center of the room. “Hey, aren’t those the senator’s cats?” he asked upon spotting Jacques and Jillianne shivering in their favorite icy corner.

“It’s a long story,” I said, moving back toward the door. “Could you maybe grab some measurements for me real quick? I’ll be back in five.”

Once he agreed, I latched the door behind me and then raced to the bathroom to run a brush through my hair and a toothbrush through my mouth. I also splashed some cold water on my face, but decided doing anything more would probably be overkill.

“It shouldn’t be too much for me to do the work you’re looking for,” Brock—oops, Cal—said when I returned. He’d been standing by the window seat that looked out onto the beautifully landscaped backyard. You could just barely see the ocean beyond the tips of the trees, and it was a lovely sight to behold.

“That’s great,” I said, joining him at the window and feeling a little shiver of excitement overtake me. Even with caffeine rushing through my system, I still found myself a bit tongue-tied with this gorgeous man so near. “How much, and when can you get started?”

Cal told me a figure that made me a little sick to my stomach until he explained that this would include the custom-built shelving I needed to line my walls. After that, it seemed like a steal. I couldn’t believe that this prince would be building me my fantasy library.

Dreams really did come true.

We shook on it, and then he said, “It’s early enough that I can actually get started today. Like I said, not a lot of folks are lining up to hire me, given my recent history.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Cal Calhoun,” I said with a huge smile, thrilled that we’d be spending more time together. Partially because he’d be nearby in case of danger, and partially because I most definitely had the hots for him now. “Nan and I will both be around unpacking some boxes today. Just holler if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

“Oh, and Cal?” I had to keep saying his new name to get used to it. The more I said it, the more I liked it. It was uncomplicated and appealing, just like the man himself.

“Yeah?” He removed the measuring tape he’d brought with him and let its long yellow tongue snap back into place.

“Do mind the Sphynxes. They’re slippery little buggers,” I said, parroting the words Officer Bouchard had said to me just a couple days ago.

And with that, I slipped out of the room and ran up to my tower to find the perfect outfit for casually running into my new crush later that day.