Page 11 of Caring for Cailin

“I work too much. It wouldn’t be fair.”

He nods. “I guess you’re right.” After a thoughtful silence, he asks, “Have you heard from your mom lately?”

“She texted last month. She and Edgar were planning a trip to Cabo.”

My mom and I have never been close, and once I turned eighteen, she was more than ready to move on with her own life. Now she lives in Florida with her new husband, and by unspoken agreement, we rarely see each other.

Memphis doesn’t understand. Though he’s never said it, he thinks my mom should be more supportive. He was aghast when she refused to come out to L.A. in the aftermath of my rescue, claiming that she was too busy with her part-time job at the local yoga studio.

It didn’t bother me nearly as much. After all, I was used to her not caring. And I had Memphis, who was more than enough.

“Hmph.” Memphis huffs. “She should at least—” He stops.

“So Gus,” I press. “What about the fresh catnip? Does he still love it? And what about the toys I got for him?”

His frown lifts into a smile. “He’s obsessed with the toys. Carries those bananas wherever he goes. The other day, I found two in my sheets.”

I laugh. “In your sheets?”

Memphis grins. “I think they were supposed to be presents. Which would have been nice had they not been all wet with cat drool.”

“I’ll buy more of them,” I offer. Without thinking, I add, “I’d love to see him again.”

“Gus?”

Oops. In all the time I’ve known Memphis, he’s only ever come to see me. I’ve never been to his place, not because I don’t want to, but because he’s never asked. “Nevermind. Just… maybe take a video or something. If you don’t mind.”

I hurry to change the subject. “How’s work? Have you had any crazy clients recently?”

“Cailin.” He turns my hand over in his. “Do youwantto visit me?”

I duck my head. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

The silence that follows is almost unbearable.

“It’s not that,” he finally says. “I didn’t think you’d want to travel. And…” He sighs. “Shit.”

“I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”

His finger touches my chin, tilting my head back up to look at him. “It’s not that I don’t want you to visit. It’s just…”

But he doesn’t. I’m just some woman he feels obligated to check on whenever he’s in town. And once he’s gone, I’m out of his mind again.

Why does he text, then? Why does he send gifts? Why does he stay at the restaurant until closing every time he visits instead of finishing his meal and leaving?

“I get it,” I manage through a thickening throat. “You know, I’m kind of tired…”

“Cailin.” His expression turns fierce. “You don’t get it. I would love for you to visit.”

Hope sparks. “You would?”

He stares at me. An emotion I’ve never seen before works in his gaze. “Of course I would. To show you my house, my helos, take you hiking… And Gus would love to see you.”

It’s so close to the fantasy I’ve been clinging to for longer than I want to admit. “I would love that, too.”

A burst of joy overtakes everything.

He wants me to visit. Wants me to see how he lives. He wouldn’t want that if he didn’t care. If he didn’t want me in his life.