Free Heart Signs by Cari Quinn Page B

weepfest movie of the week ever been more raw? She could feel his pain in every word. And his love. Though the picture of Dani and Sam that she’d held in her mind for so long had definitely been inaccurate, she had no doubt that theirs had been a love story at the core. They’d suffered tragedies and bad luck but they’d also shared some good times and deep emotion.
    She made herself go back to the letters. Somehow she would get through the rest.
    Fifteen minutes later, after she’d read all four through a blur of tears, she got up off the couch. She longed for a hot shower and something to scour her heart of his anguish. Not alcohol. Nope, only one thing—one person—would do.
    She needed to hear him laugh, to be the one who made him. Tonight it would feel so good to just fucking laugh .
    Once she’d showered and donned the faded boxers and old baseball jersey she slept in, she crawled into her tidily made bed, whistled for her cat Snowdrop and smiled as the brown and gray tabby leaped up beside her. As usual, she gave her mistress a giant headbutt hello.
    Sam should get a cat. One as affectionate as Snowy, she mused as her kitty rolled over and stuck her paws in the air. Rory patted her furry belly and grinned. “Too bad you’re spayed huh, sweetheart?”
    All she got was a rumbling purr in return.
    Settling back into the pillows, she grabbed the bedside phone and the card she’d tucked beneath it. She’d written that number in at least three places and programmed it into her cell.
    “Obsessive much?” she muttered, hitting the digits she’d already almost memorized.
    He answered on the second ring. “Ah, so you decided to call.”
    His voice alone made her smile. Step one to laughter achieved. “I did. And you decided to answer.”
    “Well, it was a tough choice. Watching the end of the fight—which sucked anyway—cleaning out the litter box for Junior or—”
    “Wait, Junior? Who’s that?”
    “He’s a cat.”
    She couldn’t help laughing at his patient tone. “I figured out that part from the litter box. But why do you have him?”
    “I nabbed him from the pound.”
    “Oh really? Yay!” She hated that she squealed but she couldn’t believe he’d somehow read her thoughts. “Just this afternoon?”
    “Yep. I stopped by and they were having some big adoption thing. Due to overcrowding, they let me take him. If my paperwork checks out, I’ll get to keep him. Otherwise they’ll return him to his sunny life in a wire cage.”
    With effort, she ignored his sudden bitterness. It wasn’t easy seeing so many pets caged up at the shelter, and she had a feeling Sam empathized with them more than most. He had his own cage of sorts, though he came and went. “So you named him Junior? He’s not oversized and hairless, is he?”
    He let out a short laugh. “He’s tiny and orange. And lemme tell ya, when I say tiny, I mean miniscule. He fits in the palm of my hand.”
    “Aww.” She stroked Snowy and imagined ginormous Sam cradling a baby kitty. Her heart squeezed. Big, strong men cuddling babies and kittens should be outlawed. The mere thought made women by turns horny and foolish.
    “I bet you want to come see him.”
    “I do.” And you , she added silently.
    “The guy at the shelter told me Junior would be a chick magnet. Wasn’t sure if he was right. He couldn’t have been more than twenty.”
    “He is. Chicks love orange kittens.”
    “And big bald guys?”
    “That’s a given.” She cleared her throat as the silence dragged. Flirting with him might be fun, if they could ever figure out how to coordinate it to avoid the awkward pauses. “So, ah, I read more of the letters.”
    “Did you call to refer me to a shrink? Because if you did, too late. I had one and I think I fired him.”
    She laughed again and gripped the phone more tightly. The receiver was damp. Nope, she wasn’t nervous. Not at all. “I was okay, more or less, until I got to the letters you wrote to your