Confessions of a Reformed Tom Cat

by Daisy Prescott

  “I have?”

  She nodded, and in the moonlight, I could see the truth in her eyes. “I love you. Maybe I always have.”

  “I know.” I kissed her softly, but deeply.

  Despite saying I was too tired for sex, my body craved hers. She responded to my kiss and guided me to her. Facing each other on our sides, we found a slow rhythm, allowing us to keep kissing while I rocked inside of her. Each movement brought us closer, our breaths slowed and synched. My heart raced, and holding my hand against her chest, I felt hers keeping the same rhythm. I reached between us to stroke her, bringing her closer to a place of pleasure where her mouth would open and a low moan would gather in her throat before being exhaled. I loved that sound, and the feeling of her tightening around me as I moved. When she got there, I followed, not crashing or raging, but with a quiet explosion.

  As I drifted into sleep, I listened to the wind tapping branches against the windows. Moonlight spilled over the bed, casting the rest of the room in shadow. Her breathing deepened and slowed as she fell asleep. Peace enveloped me. This was now my life.

  THE LAST TIME I wore a suit had been Pops’ funeral. I tugged at my shirt cuffs under my jacket and stared at Hailey’s reflection through the mirror. She wore a pale blue, short strapless dress and her curled hair skimmed her shoulders.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “I know.” She grinned and twirled for my benefit, revealing a peek of lace under her full skirt.

  The small glimpse of lace turned me on more than it probably should have. “I feel like we’re going to prom.” I attempted to adjust my tie, a Douglas tartan in honor of John’s mom.

  “I know what you mean by that, and no, I’m not having sex with you at the reception.” She stood in front of me and loosened my tie so she could retie it properly.

  “How about after? I know what weddings do to you women. Turns you into hellcats.” I smirked and tried to kiss her.

  She dodged my pursed lips and patted my now straight tie. “Hellcat?”

  I held her in front of me by her hips. “Completely wild and out of control. I can’t wait.”

  “You’re ridiculous.” She gave me a quick peck to the lips and then ducked under my arms to escape.

  “I know.” Those two words had become our code for saying I love you as often as possible. We still said those three words, but in public or at work, “I know” worked better. Every time she said it, I smiled, knowing without a doubt, she meant it.

  I’d marry this girl someday, but not today.

  Today, I played the role of best man to my wingman, my best friend and brother. Two years ago we catted around, acting like boys who would always be boys, and having what we thought were the best years of our lives. This last year proved how very wrong we’d been about the last part. I’d envied him and chided him in equal measure until Hailey crashed into my world . . . again. I finally understood what Pops had been telling me.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  Her eyes met mine, searching and seeing straight to my soul. Answering my yet to be asked question, she replied, “Yes.”

  I couldn’t prove we were set-up, but the odds of Hailey catching the bouquet in a crowd of thirty, with only two other single women, were ridiculously high. I had offered to take Diane’s garter and save John the trouble of throwing it to me. He’d scowled. Diane laughed when she told me she didn’t have one.

  I loved Diane like a fourth sister and said as much in my toast.

  “So despite my best efforts to charm Diane with offers to hunt geoducks, she fell for John. I suspect it was love at first sight, despite taking them months to figure out the obvious.” I let my eyes wander to Hailey. “To my best friend, the second luckiest man in the world, and the woman who loves him.” I raised my glass to complete the toast.

  When I sat down, Hailey leaned over to whisper in my ear, “Second luckiest?”

  “A very distant second.” I circled my arm around her, resting my fingers on the hidden words curving around her ribs. “A chuisle mo chroí.”

  There you go. A year in the life of Tom Cat Donnely. A birth, a death, a bar fight, and a wedding. I can’t wait to see what life brings me next. Marriage? Definitely. Kids? Thinking about it. Spending the rest of my life loving a girl named Idaho? I’m the luckiest guy in the world.

  Thank you for reading the latest Modern Love Stories novel. I hope you enjoyed Tom’s story. I had the best time writing his downfall, I mean him falling in love.

  Thanks for all of your support for these characters and this series. Find all my books and short stories on Amazon or my website www.daisyprescott.com

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  A big thank you to everyone who takes the time to read this book and leave a review. I know your time is precious and there are so many good books being published these days that it’s impossible to keep up with TBRs and new releases. The fact that you made time to read my book means the world to me.

  Readers bring my stories to life. Without you, these books would just be words on a page or computer. Thank you.

  Unending gratitude to my husband and family for continuing to support this crazy writing life.

  Special thanks to the Lost Girls, who are the best friends a person could have. We may not see each other often enough, but our daily chats remind me that true friendships withstand distance and timezones.

  A big thank you to Heather Maven for giving CoaRTC a thorough (and often tear-inducing funny) read-through. Thank you to Ashley, Dianne, Traci, and Kelly for reading early and very messy drafts—your feedback is always invaluable. Penny Reid, thank you for being brutal. The book is better for it. Thank you to all the authors who support each other in the Indie world. The list of names is too long to include here, and for that I’m truly blessed.

  Thank you to Melissa Ringsted for correcting my sins against grammar and Marla Esposito for her eagle-eye proofing. (Any remaining errors are my own.) Thank you to Sarah Hansen for a gorgeous cover, and to Christine Borgford at Perfectly Publishable for making the inside of the book beautiful.

  Many thanks to early readers and bloggers, who shared their enthusiasm and love for Tom Cat, including: Amanda, Mandy, MJ, Tara, Laurie, Lisa, Tiffany, Beth, Lynsey, Kiersten, Debbie, Charleen, Lori, Daiana, Margie, Margaret, Charlene, Erika, Teresa, Jiff and Stacy.

  Special thank you to my agents, Flavia Viotti Siqueria and Meire Dias at Bookcase Literary Agency, for believing in my work and wanting to bring it to the rest of the world.

  Thanks in advance for writing a review, telling a friend about Tom Cat, or reaching out to let me know you enjoyed this or any of my other books. Hearing from readers is the best part of publishing.

  USA Today bestselling author Daisy Prescott has published four standalone novels and three short stories in her Modern Love Stories series. Her novels include: Geoducks Are for Lovers, Ready to Fall, and Missionary Position. She lives in a real life Stars Hollow in the Boston suburbs with her husband, their rescue dog Hubbell, and an imaginary house goat. When not writing, she can be found traveling, gardening, baking, and socializing online.

  Her fourth novel, Confessions of a Reformed Tom Cat, is an interconnected-standalone in the Modern Love Stories series.

  www.daisyprescott.com

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  Curious about Tom’s best friend and former wingman John? Read his story in Ready to Fall, available in ebook and paperback. Here’s the first chapter:

  Chapter One

  A high pitched wailing entered my dream. Slowly, I shook off the warm breeze and sunshine from the catamaran and opened my eyes to my bedroom. It took a minute or two for me to determine the sound wasn’t from my
dream, but coming from next door. From Maggie’s house. Her smoke detector was going off.

  From where he stood on the comforter facing the window overlooking the beach, Babe’s barks drowned out the noise. Tossing the comforter and blankets off of me, I leapt from the bed, followed by Babe, and headed downstairs. Kelly rolled over and put the pillow over her head, grumbling about it still being dark out and what the hell was wrong with me for waking her up. Ignoring her, I grabbed my jeans and thermal from the floor, and raced from the room, not bothering to zip my jeans.

  I reached the door to the deck where Babe pawed to get outside. The second I opened the door, he bounded out and barked at Maggie’s cabin.

  I peered through the pre-dawn gloom, but couldn’t see any flames or smoke. As far as I knew, Maggie was in Portland with whatshisface. There shouldn’t be any reason for her smoke detector to be going off. The battery could be dying, and if that was the cause for the ruckus, I’d give her an earful about changing her batteries with the time change next time I saw her.

  The breeze shifted and I could smell the distinct scent of smoke coming from her cabin. Where there was smoke, there was fire.

  I ran across the narrow yard separating our properties. Luckily, I knew she hid a key under a frog at the foot of her steps. Searching for the damn frog, I bent over, peering into the dark when the door to the deck flew open and slammed into the wall.

  What the hell?

  A petite brunette I’d never laid eyes on swung a throw blanket over her head while she attempted to chase the smoke pouring from the door.

  Who the fuck is that? I stared at her. Now she ran around the living room, opening windows as the smoke detector continued to squawk its annoying beeping into the sleepy morning.

  The smoke appeared to be coming from the wood stove. Miss Blanket Waver probably hadn’t opened the flue. She must not be from around here.

  Walking through the open door, I coughed and waved the smoke away from my face as I headed toward the stove.

  Without introducing myself, I said, “You forgot to open the flue.”

  The woman stood at the kitchen sink, trying to open the window, and jumped at the sound of my voice.

  “Cheesy Rice and Joseph!” she shouted and turned to face me, clutching her hand to her chest. “Who the fuck are you?”

  Leaning over, I swung the lever to open the flue on the chimney stack. “I’m the neighbor. Who the fuck are you? Cause I know this isn’t your house.”

  With the doors and windows open the room began to clear of smoke, but the smoke alarm continued its piercing cadence. Where the hell was the damn thing? I stared at the ceiling and followed the beeping until I spied the red-lighted beast in the hallway. I reached up and knocked it from its perch, removed the batteries, and set it on the kitchen counter.

  “Ah, silence,” I said. Observing the woman, I noticed she had wrapped her blanket weapon around her shoulders. Sticking out below the blanket I could see a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and mismatched socks. “You going to tell me who you are and what you are doing in my friend’s house? Or am I going to call the sheriff?”

  She tightened the throw around her shoulders and glared at me, but not before I noticed her eyes linger at my waist and my jeans hanging off my hips.

  I smiled at her to let her know I’d caught her staring before closing my jeans.

  She didn’t blush or glance away, but continued to glare at me. “Do you always barge into people’s homes at the crack of dawn?”

  “I do when the alarm wakes me up and smoke fills the air.” I crossed my arms and waited.

  “I’m renting the place for a few months. Arrived on the ferry last night.”

  She didn’t tell me her name. Nope, definitely not from around here.

  “Well, that explains what you are doing here, but not who you are. I’ll go first. I’m John Day. I live next door. The yellow lab out on the deck is Babe. Your turn.”

  “Diane. Diane Watson. Well, Woodley, but Watson soon.”

  “Nice to meet you, Diane Woodley-but-Watson-soon. Is that hyphenated?” I stuck out my hand to shake hers, figuring it was the polite thing to do.

  She laughed, but it sounded hollow, not a real laugh. Somehow the smile didn’t reach her brown eyes. She shook my hand and said, “Just Woodley. Watson is my maiden name. I’m thinking of changing it back.”

  “No more Mr. Woodley?” I asked.

  She scowled. “No more Mr. Woodley. Or there won’t be soon enough.”

  “If you are planning on murdering your husband, don’t tell me. I don’t want to be an accessory. I’m here to open the flue and prevent you from burning down my friend’s house.” I smiled at her. “Plus, it’s way too early to hear all the gory details of your personal life.”

  She laughed this time and it was real. “No, no murder. Not that it hasn’t crossed my mind. Sorry about the smoke detector. I thought I knew how to build a fire. The fire part I figured out, but not the flue. Obviously.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Thanks for coming over and saving the day.”

  “No problem. I keep an eye on the house for Maggie, it’s what neighbors do around here.” I surveyed the quiet beach. “In January, not many of us live down here on the beach, we have to band together.”

  “I appreciate it. I’d hate to have the fire department show up on my first morning here. Sorry to wake you so early. I guess I’m still on east coast time.”

  “Honestly, no problem. Nice to meet you,” I said, backing toward the door. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. You probably want to change out the batteries on all the detectors. Who knows the last time Maggie changed them.”

  She looked forlorn standing alone in the living room with the blanket falling off her shoulders. The Soon-to-be-not-Woodley blinked at me before remembering her manners.

  “It was nice to meet you. I don’t know anyone on the island, so it’s nice to meet my neighbor. I hope to see you around again.”

  “You probably will. Island’s a small place, and the beach especially. Give a holler if you need anything.” I turned when I opened the door. “And don’t forget to open the flue when you start a fire.”

  She seemed embarrassed, but smiled. “Thanks, John.”

  I gave her a wave and headed back over to the house with Babe on my heels. It was weird to have someone besides Maggie living in the cabin. Diane appeared nice enough, but she was no fiery redhead like Maggie.

  I crawled back into bed after shedding my jeans. Kelly rolled over and curled into my side, mumbling about barking dogs and smoke. I stayed awake for a while, thinking about the woman next door and the expression on her face as if she didn’t have a friend in the world. I’d have to text Maggie later to let her know about the wood stove. And find out more about her new tenant with the sad eyes.

  Purchase Ready to Fall from Amazon