The monster in question padded down the hallway and sat down at Tamsyn’s feet, eyeing him with a baleful glare.
“This one?” she asked, bending down to tickle it behind the ears. “Do you know its name?”
“Lucy, short for Lucifer. In name and in nature. They thought she was a boy when they first got her and had to shorten her name when they discovered she was carrying a litter.”
Finn watched in surprise as the wretched animal began to purr and nudge its head against Tamsyn’s hand.
“Lucifer? For this cutie?” Tamsyn laughed. “That’s a touch harsh, don’t you think?”
Maybe he’d misjudged the animal. It had only ever barely tolerated him. He bent down to give it a pat only to have Lucy’s ears flare back and her teeth bare as she hissed her displeasure at his presumption.
“Nope, not harsh at all. Funny that she’s so tolerant of you. She usually only lets her owner and her daughter touch her.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth Finn wished them back. Of course Lucy would connect with Tamsyn. She was Ellen’s daughter, too.
“Maybe she just prefers female company,” Tamsyn commented, oblivious to Finn’s discomfort.
“That’s probably it.”
“Did you want to stop in for a cup of coffee or something? I’m not quite sure where everything is yet, but I’m sure I can find it all.”
Should he? Sure, why not. It was neighborly, after all.
“That’d be great. While I’m here I can check the hot water is turned on for you. I know the property manager was going to take care of it, but they may not have gotten around to it yet.”
“Oh, would you? That would be wonderful. I’d love nothing better than a long soak in that fabulous old bath tonight.”
Finn’s body hardened at the visual image that flooded his mind. It took no stretch of the imagination to envisage the drape of her lean arms along the sides of the old claw-footed tub he knew resided in the bathroom. Or the delicate curve of her shoulders and the sweep of her collarbone glistening with scented bath oil.
“Right,” he said, pulling himself together abruptly. “I’ll get onto it then.”
“I’ll go and put the jug on,” she replied, stepping back from the doorway and ushering him inside.
Lucy gave another short hiss at him before springing away and settling herself on the windowsill of the large front bay window.
“The cylinder is in the old laundry off the back porch,” Finn said by way of explanation as he followed her through to the kitchen.
He unlocked the back door and stepped through the small porch to the door on the other side, reaching above the door frame for the key. He was as familiar with this house as he was with his own face in the mirror each morning. Lorenzo and Ellen had provided him a home here and despite his offers to build them something newer and more comfortable, they’d insisted they were happy in their small cottage, especially now that Alexis’s business was taking off, leading her to spend much of her time working from overseas.
By the time he’d checked the cylinder he could hear the jug beginning to boil, the sound accompanied by Tamsyn’s light humming as she moved around the kitchen finding coffee and mugs.
“You just have your coffee black, right?”
He was impressed she’d both noticed and remembered. Her attention to detail was good—he needed to remind himself of that, and not to slip up the way he had earlier when he’d nearly mentioned Ellen and Alexis by name.
“That’s right,” he answered, locking the laundry door behind him and returning the key to its spot.
“You seem to know your way around here pretty well.”
“We’ve been neighbors a long time. Plus, I’ve been watching the animals the past few weeks.”
She gave a short laugh. “It’s a good thing that Lucy could tolerate you feeding her then.”
“Cupboard love,” he commented in response. “Cats are well known for it.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Tamsyn replied as she added sugar and milk to her coffee. “We never had pets growing up.”
“Not at all?”
“No, our father didn’t think they had a place in our household. Occasionally a feral cat would have kittens on the property, but Dad always made sure they were rehomed before we could adopt any of them.”
Finn thought of the farm dogs his father had always had, even after he’d downsized the stock running on the farm and begun to change his primary business over to growing grapevines. The animals had been as much of an extension of his life as Lorenzo and Ellen had been after his father died. Add to that his mother’s and Ellen’s procession of cats over the years and he couldn’t imagine growing up without a pet. He’d always imagined he’d have a couple of dogs when he finished building the house, but Briana had insisted she was allergic and since her departure, a year ago, he’d been too busy to do anything about it.