Chapter 15: Ally - Purrfect Valentine

Aweek of waking up tangled in Corbin’s arms, and I still hadn’t asked him what we were. Seven days of his hands across my waist, his breath warm against my neck, Muffy wedged between our pillows like a tiny furry chaperone who’d missed the memo that chaperones were supposed to prevent this kind of thing. Seven days of stumbling into my kitchen to find coffee already made, my favorite mug waiting on the counter, and a grumpy man in gray sweatpants having already fed my zoo animals. Seven days of pretending this was normal. That we’d always been this. That the word temporary wasn’t lurking somewhere in the shadows, waiting to sink its teeth in.

I stretched in bed, registering the space beside me—still warm—and followed the smell of bacon toward the kitchen.

Corbin stood at the stove shirtless, spatula in hand, and I let myself appreciate the view. Broad shoulders. The dip of his spine. The way his sweatpants hung low on his hips, showing off that V of muscle that made my brain go fuzzy. He’d left the Sweetheart Inn five days ago, shown up at my door with his duffel bag and Muffy tucked against his chest, and said, “Muffy wants to meet Bernie.”

Like that explained everything.

Like staying with the woman you’d been sleeping with for a few days was a completely reasonable response.

I hadn’t argued. Hadn’t pointed out we were skipping steps, that normal people had conversations about these things. I’d stepped aside and let him in. Then I explicitly ignored the little voice in my head that warned me things were going too fast. That one or both of us were going to get hurt.

We still hadn’t talked about what this was. Every time the words bubbled up—usually late at night, when his fingers traced lazy patterns on my hip and the darkness made honesty feel safer—I swallowed them back down. Labels didn’t matter if the actions were there.

Right?

“You’re staring, Lois.”

I grinned. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

He turned, one eyebrow raised, and his gaze dropped to my bare legs. I was wearing his t-shirt and nothing else. Heat flickered in his eyes before he looked away. “Staring at what, exactly?”

“The bacon. Obviously.” I crossed to the counter and stole a piece. “What else would I be looking at?”

“Dunno.” He leaned over and kissed the top of my head with a grin.

Bernie chose that moment to lumber into the kitchen, making a beeline for the stove. His massive head came up to counter height, and he stared at the bacon like a dog who’d never been fed in his entire life.

“No,” Corbin said without looking. “Absolutely not.”

Bernie let out a sigh.

“Fine.” Corbin broke off a small piece of bacon, and Bernie nearly bit his hand off getting to it. “Don’t tell the others.”

“You’re getting soft, Superman.” I scratched behind Bernie’s ears. “He’s going to walk all over you.”

“He already does. Literally. He stepped on my chest this morning and might’ve broken a rib. He weighs as much as a small horse.”

“So maybe don’t feed him human food.”

“Like you’ve never bribed them.” Corbin slid a plate in front of me, then settled onto the stool beside mine. Muffy appeared from somewhere—probably her new favorite spot on the couch—and climbed into his lap, circling twice before curling into a ball. “What’s the plan for today?”

I paused, bacon halfway to my mouth. “Work. I need to swing by the café first, though, because Bev texted me and said one of the cats isn’t eating.”

“I think this town would fall apart without you.” He grinned at me.

“They’d find someone else.”

Corbin shook his head. “There’s only one you, Ally.”

“It’s actually Alyssa. I guess I never actually told you that, did I?”

“Nope. I like it though. I like Ally too. And Al. And Dr. V. Have you tried Vandy? I feel like that’s a fun one.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Shut up, Clark.”

“Never,” he leaned in to kiss me, and I grinned against his lips. “I’m job hunting online today, but I’ll swing by the cat café around 9. You’ll still be there, right?” he glanced at my big cat clock hanging on the kitchen wall.

“Yep. I’ll see you there.”

Cupid’s Cat Café smelled like cinnamon and fresh coffee when I walked in. Cupid was sprawled across the counter as always; a big orange fuzzy paperweight, and Eros prowled between tables looking for victims to steal pastries from.

“Finally!” Bev said when she spotted me. “The cat whisperer has arrived!”

“Sorry, had to finish breakfast.”

“I’m sure you did.” Wim emerged from the back, pastel hair slightly askew. “And what was on the menu? Superman?”

I ignored her, rolling my eyes as I followed Bev towards the cat who wouldn’t eat. It wasn’t anything serious, and I made a note on my phone to check back in tomorrow.

Back at the front, Bev slid a coffee toward me without asking. Her smirk matched the one on Wim’s face, and I shook my head.

“Don’t start,” I said, taking a sip. It was too hot, so I set it back down.

“We didn’t say anything!” Wim protested.

“You were about to.”

“How’s Mr. Wright?” Bev leaned forward, elbows on the counter. “Tabby mentioned a couple days ago that he checked out of the inn.”

“He’s fine.”

“And?” Bev’s eyes sparkled. “Spill. We’ve been dying over here.”

I wrapped my hands around my mug. The thing was, I wanted to talk about it. Wanted to say the words out loud, make them real. But saying it felt like tempting fate. Like the moment I admitted how happy I was, the universe would snatch it away.

“Things are good,” I said carefully.

“Good?” Wim’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s all we get? Take her coffee back, Bev. She doesn’t deserve it.”

I moved the mug out of reach and chuckled. “Things are really good.” The smile spread across my face before I could stop it. “He’s different from what I expected.”

“Honey, we knew that the moment he walked in holding that kitten like it was going to bite him.” Bev patted my hand. “That man had soft-hearted energy from day one.”

“You saw that under the asshole persona? I’m impressed,” I replied.

“Of course we did.” Wim wiped down one of the counters.

I let myself enjoy it—the warmth, the coffee, the feeling of being happy and having people who wanted to hear about it. His car had been fixed for days. He could leave anytime. But he was still here, taking Muffy for her shots, making me breakfast and stealing my blankets, and giving me more orgasms than I could count.

There was no doubt in my mind. I was falling for him.

The café door chimed, and I looked up automatically, a smile still on my face, expecting to see Corbin.

It wasn’t him.

The woman who walked in was beautiful. Tall, with sleek dark hair cut in a sharp bob. A cream-colored coat that went down to her knees. Heels that clicked against the floor. Everything about her was polished and expensive and completely, utterly wrong for this place.

She paused inside the door, scanning the café. Her nose wrinkled, and her gaze swept past the mismatched furniture and Valentine decorations with distaste.

Eros wound around her ankles in greeting.

She went rigid and stepped sideways as if the cat might contaminate her shoes. Her mouth thinned into a line.

“Can we help you?” Bev’s voice had cooled by several degrees.

The woman approached the counter, and up close, she was even more intimidating. Sharp cheekbones. Eyes that assessed and dismissed in the same glance. She smelled expensive, too. Her perfume was overwhelmingly floral, and I sipped my coffee to clear my nose.

“I’m looking for someone.” Her voice was pleasant enough, but there was an edge underneath. “Corbin Wright. I was told he might be here.”

My hands grew cold around my mug.

“Who are you?” I was proud of myself for keeping my voice calm.

She barely glanced at me—a quick sweep that took in my scrubs, my messy bun, and looked away like I wasn’t worth a second look.

Shit. I had a feeling I knew who she was.

“Listen,” she said, drawing out the word as she turned her attention back to Bev and Wim. “I stopped by the inn where he was staying. The Sweetheart Inn?” she said it like the name amused her. “They said he checked out. I’m trying to track him down.”

“And how do you know Corbin?” I pressed.

This time she did look at me. Her eyes narrowed, recalculating, and I watched her decide I wasn’t competition. Bitch.

“My name is Andrea. Corbin is my boyfriend. Well,” she paused, tilting her head as she removed the glove from her left hand. “Actually, he’s my fiancé.” The smug grin on her face cracked the floor beneath me, and I felt like I was falling.

“I’m not sure—” Bev started.

The café door chimed again.

Corbin walked in with a paper bag from Love at First Bite, already smiling with his dimples on display. His gaze swept the room the way they always did now, looking for me first.

He found me.

His smile began to widen.

Then his gaze shifted left, and everything about him changed. The smile vanished. The color drained from his face. His whole body went rigid, like someone had reached into his chest and squeezed.

“Corbin, babe, there you are.” Andi’s voice softened. She straightened, shoulders back, and something shifted in her posture—her whole body orienting toward him like a plant toward sunlight. She took a step forward, then another, closing the distance between them. “Finally. Do you know how hard you’ve been to find?”

Corbin’s mouth opened. Closed. “Andi. What are you—how did you⁠—”

“I drove.” She was still moving toward him, and there was something almost hungry in the way she looked at him. Like she’d been starving, and he was a meal. In fact, she looked at him like Bernie had looked at the bacon this morning. “The GPS kept trying to send me through some mountain road. I thought I was going to drive off a cliff. But I’m here to rescue you.”

She reached him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He didn’t push her away.

He stood frozen, one arm still holding the back from the bakery. His face remained blank, but he didn’t step back. Didn’t extract himself. He stayed completely still while she pressed against him, and I watched the hug go on for one second too long. Two seconds. Three.

I set my coffee down. My hands weren’t steady anymore.

When Andi finally pulled back, she kept one hand on his arm. Her body angled toward his as if they were the only two people in the room.

“I’ve missed you,” she said. “You were right. We need to talk. Look,” she squealed, dangling her left hand in front of his face, the diamond twinkling in the fairy lights of the café. “I’m wearing it. I want us to be together, and⁠—”

“Andi.” His voice came out strangled. “This isn’t—I’m⁠—”

“Introduce us to your friend,” Bev interrupted. Her hand had found my elbow, gripping tight. Protective. Wim had gone still behind the counter, the coffee pot frozen mid-pour.

Corbin blinked. Seemed to remember where he was. That there were other people in the room. That I was standing five feet away, watching this happen.

“Right. This is—Andi, this is Bev and Wim. They own the café.”

“Charming,” Andi said, without looking at them.

His gaze found mine, eyes wide and searching.

“And this is⁠—”

The pause stretched.

One second.

Two.

I watched him search for the word. Girlfriend. Partner. Friend. Something. Anything. His mouth opened, closed, opened again. He was reaching, grasping, coming up empty. He didn’t find it.

After a week of waking up together. After every breakfast and every kiss and every time he’d looked at me like he might be falling too—he didn’t know what to call me.

Because we’d never talked about it. Because I’d never asked. Because I’d been so afraid of the answer that I’d let the question rot in my throat until it was too late.

I stepped forward before the silence could stretch any further. Before he could fumble through an explanation that would make this worse. Before I had to stand here and watch him fail to claim me in front of the woman who’d broken his heart.

“Dr. Vanderspelt.” I extended my hand with a smile that felt like shattered glass tearing into my cheeks. “I’m the town veterinarian. I’ve been treating Corbin’s kitten.”

Andi shook my hand. “Nice to meet you, Dr.” Her attention swung back to Corbin. “A kitten, Corbin? Really? You hate cats. You’re allergic.”

“I don’t—I’m not⁠—”

“Yes, you are. Remember, your mother told you you were.” She touched his chest, her hand spreading over his heart like she was checking to make sure it still beat. “God, I’ve missed you.”

Wim made a small, sharp sound. Bev’s returned her grip on my elbow.

“Andi, what are you doing here?” Corbin’s voice was hoarse.

“I told you. We need to talk.” She stepped closer. Too close. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket. “I came to get you back. Rescue you from this town and bring you home.” She looked up at him, and for a moment, she almost looked vulnerable. Almost human. “I want to try again. For real this time.”

He stood frozen. Didn’t pull away. Didn’t step back.

Didn’t look at me.

“I should go.” My voice belonged to someone else. Someone who wasn’t falling apart. God, I wanted to be that person so badly, but I knew as soon as I made it to my car, I’d fall apart. “I, um, I have work to do.”

Corbin’s attention snapped toward me. “Ally⁠—”

“It was nice to meet you.” I nodded at Andi as I passed my barely touched mug into Bev’s hand. I was already moving toward the door. “Bev, Wim—I’ll check in again tomorrow.”

I didn’t run. I walked out of Cupid’s Cat Café at a normal pace, shoulders straight, head high, and I made it all the way to my car before my hands started shaking.

The cold February air burned my lungs. I sat behind the wheel, gripping it until my knuckles went white, and stared at the café door I’d walked through a thousand times. My breath came too fast. My chest felt hollow, like someone had scooped out everything that mattered and left the shell behind.

He didn’t know what to call me.

After everything—the mornings and the meals and the way he’d held me—he couldn’t find a single word for what we were. Couldn’t even tell her my name.

Maybe we weren’t anything. Maybe I’d been building a castle on sand, watching the tide come in, and pretending I couldn’t hear the waves.

I never agreed to be temporary.

I never agreed to be a placeholder. A distraction. Something to keep him warm until the real thing showed up. I never agreed to fall for a man who was still looking over his shoulder at what he’d lost.

But I had. God help me, I had.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn’t look at it.

I started the car, pulled out of the parking space, and drove toward the clinic. The road blurred at the edges, and I blinked hard, refusing to let the tears fall.

Not here. Not yet. Not until I was somewhere safe.

Behind me, the café disappeared around the corner, and I didn’t let myself look back. I couldn’t.