Bad Neighbor (THE BADDEN BROTHERS) by Maya Nicole EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Maya Nicole
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 4.7 MB
- Price: Free
Captain Purrcard von Clitty Cat
Noah
The day Captain Purrcard von Clitty Cat decided to invade my life was
the same day I learned that my new neighbor was the most beautiful woman
I’d ever seen… and an incredibly delusional cat lady.
I’d just opened my door to leave for my brother’s birthday party—
present in hand and mind on the mountain of food I planned to demolish—
when a flash of orange fur torpedoed around my legs and right into my
house.
“Fuck.” I hadn’t even seen the damn cat, which was surprising,
considering how massive it was. Had it been gray, I’d have thought it was a
bobcat.
The cat darted across the room, leaving muddy paw prints in its wake. It
stopped when it got to my couch and sat down beside it, staring back at me.
Like every cat I’d ever encountered, its fluff screamed “pet me” while its
eyes said, “I dare you, lowly human.”
“Here, kitty, kitty.” I put down the present on the console table next to
the door and walked slowly toward the intruder. “Good kitty. Stay right
there.”
Its baseball-bat-sized tail swished on the hardwood floor, and I swear its
eyes narrowed ever so slightly, warning me to not come any closer.
I knew it wasn’t going to stay where it was with a stranger coming right
for it, but it was in my house, and its feet looked like it’d had a party in a
flowerbed.
“No!” I lunged forward as it started to jump.
When it landed on my leather couch, I let out a very uncharacteristic
screech, which made it scurry across the fabric, no cushion untouched.
“All right, Garfield.” I held up my hands. “I want to help you out the
door so you can be on your merry way. Let’s not scratch the Italian leather,
okay?”
Did I really think it was going to listen?
I was just about to it when it darted off the couch and, in a surprising
show of agility, given its size, jumped onto the kitchen island. Maybe it was
the combination of the smooth marble and its muddy paws, but it slipped,
scrambling around as it bumped into a bowl of zucchini, then knocked over
a cup of water.
I managed to grab it around the middle before it got away, but the cat
was not having it. It twisted in my hands like it had trained for this very
situation and swiped its paw across my chin.
“Son of a bitch.” I dropped it, and it landed on all fours, not even
stumbling.
I’d only been scratched by a cat once, on the arm, but this was so much
worse. Pain radiated from what felt like ten thousand paper cuts. I grabbed a
paper towel and blotted at the spot; thankfully, there was only a little blood.
The cat sat down next to my dining table, licking the same paw it had
scratched me with. Why did it always seem like cats knew exactly what
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