Switched At The Altar

Which was one more reason Kevin and his trust fund would be attractive to her. He had friends who claimed to spend a fortune on only one pet; he could imagine the tab for thirteen. With the cat gone, his breathing was becoming somewhat easier, Alex realized. Now he just had to get rid of the fur Maggie had left behind. Tossing the soiled tissues into the trash, he began brushing at the black hair on his jacket and pants.

“So, you planning to stick around?” Charlie asked.

Alex looked up at the other man. “I might be. You have a problem with that?”

“Depends on your reason for sticking around. That Desiree, she’s a real sweet kid. Sometimes too sweet for her own good. She’s got this tendency to take in strays—both the two-legged and four-legged variety, if you know what I mean.”

He understood all right. “You mean she’s a soft touch.” Which surprised him, given her profession as an actress and her latching onto his brother.

Charlie rubbed at his jaw, looking less and less like a minister and more and more like a papa bear guarding his cub. “I guess that’s how some people would see her. Me? I see a beautiful woman with a generous heart. Sometimes that big heart of hers gets her into trouble.”

“I bet.” If Charlie was to be believed, the woman was a cross between a saint and Mother Teresa. But he didn’t recall any of the nuns from his grade-school days looking like Desiree Mason. He thought of that heart-shaped mole on her shoulder, the way she’d trembled when he had touched her. He had a hard time tagging Desiree as the naive woman Charlie described when just looking at her had his brain shutting down and his body aching for her in his bed.

Irritated with himself, Alex gave up on getting rid of the cat hair and started for the door. He stopped when Charlie put his short, round body in his path. “Was there something else?” Alex asked.