Page 87 of Fake It Till You Make It

“Hmm, that’s nice,” she said, pulling away. “Dumpling, be sure to empty the trash. It smells like rotten fish in here.” She looked directly at Cara.

Cara gasped. “Is she talking about me?”

“Girl, you are as smart as you look,” Amarie chirped.

“I’ll meet you at home, sweetheart,” Eli called after her.

Leah walked in, lips thinned, eyes determined. “Eli, don’t keep Amarie waiting. Get the animals packed for home. I’ll take care of Cara.”

He bent and placed a kiss on his momma’s cheek. “Don’t leave any bruises,” he whispered.

She patted his hand. “Go on now.” She chuckled. “See to Amarie. Your brothers are helping the other doctor back to his Range Rover.”

Eli noticed the slight raise in Cara’s brows at the mention of Range Rover. Gosh, he’d really married a gold digger. His family had his back, clearing the way for him to make sure Amarie knew her place in his life was secure. How had Dr. Russell Feldman tricked a woman as vibrant as his Amarie into hiding her light so he could shine?

To his ex, Leah Calvary, the authoritarian matriarch of his childhood, pointed. “Cara, there’s a pull-out couch right behind you. You can rest up for your drive first thing in the morning.”

“You want me… to sleep on a couch in a vet clinic?”

Now the real showdown between his mother and Cara was about to begin. He needed to clear out before the first bomb blast. Eli kept moving, thinking about what else the kittens needed before he headed home. Then he remembered the Kitty Kibbles forms on the printer in his office. The contract could wait. He needed to get home to Amarie.

“Where did you think you were going to sleep? Certainly not in my lowly house and I know Amarie wouldn’t appreciate you trying to worm your way back into his. So, which is it? Couch? Your car? Or your place of residence, wherever that may be? Because we both know you have a backup plan.”

Cara stiffened, her chin raised. “Funny, when Eli and I were married, you all drowned me with how important family is. Yet you, Leah, condone my soulmate leaving me here, so he can be with another woman. I was family once.”

“No, you weren’t. And stop calling me your husband, your soulmate. I’m not either,” Eli rasped, cat carrier on his shoulder. Hiccup growled, his ears lowered and pinned back. Cara stumbled on her heels, adding more distance. “Shh, boy. We’re going home.”

“You should know, Dr. Sexy Kitty Vet, that I’m bidding in the bachelor auction. The number one contributor to date, so don’t think you can write me off.”

Eli stopped and faced the woman who no longer held any power over him. “So Sven-Steven didn’t take your money?” He shook his head. “Unbelievable, Cara. Tomorrow, you leave here. Don’t come back.” With that, he walked away. “Thanks again, Momma.”

“You’re welcome, son. Got everything you need?”

“I do.” He had the woman he wanted. Eli thanked the stars above that Cara had left him. If she hadn’t, he wouldn’t have Amarie in his life.

Chapter Twenty-Five

CARA WAS Ashrewd creature who’d crawled out of a hole to infest Amarie’s happiness. Of the three people who’d arrived in Service uninvited, Amarie wanted to squash the former Mrs. Calvary like a bug. It grated that the woman had scurried into Service to bury her painted claws into Eli again.

“What a day we had, huh? Russell, my mom, and your ex-wife.” Amarie just let the words hang in the air, like ratty underwear. Both their pasts had driven into town, ripping open old scars. Amarie had exterminated Russell, sending him packing, closing and locking the door on what they once had. Cara was next.

Bethany was safely tucked in at Leah’s. Well, tucked in really wasn’t the right word. She’d left the two ladies at the Calvary kitchen table with a half-empty bottle of red wine, watching old movies on the computer. Seems they both had a thing for grainy, shoot-’em-up movies with Clint Eastwood and Charles Bronson. But her mom looked happy and relaxed. And so did Leah. Amarie may have lost her insta-bestie to Bethany. However, she couldn’t recall a time when her mother had cracked jokes or sung aloud. Her laughterheld a foreign note, carefree and open to new possibilities. Whereas Eli had been quiet after their celebratory dinner of peanut-butter-and-jelly biscuits. Which was not at all bad considering the crap show in the clinic. Amarie had questions, but she hadn’t quite firmed up her checklist on where to begin the conversation.

“You passing your exam could be sharable content from Calvary Vet today, huh.” From Eli’s position on the couch, he took another draw from the chilled IPA bottle he held in one hand. Circles, dark and defined, cast a hollowed shadow beneath his eyes. The easy smile he flashed when it was just the two of them, the one that sent her ever-present stomach butterflies in motion, stayed locked behind thinned lips. If he clenched his teeth any harder, he would need a Smile Direct Club makeover to cover the enamel stumps where his teeth used to be.

“Even a TikTok sensation is entitled to behind-the-scenes privacy.”

“Agreed. Thanks for that,” he said, pulling her down to his lap. “I’m so proud you, Amarie.”

Hiccup yawned from his homestead, the rug in front of the flameless fireplace. Raspberry, Dove, Formerly, Graffiti, and Artist nestled along his belly, five pairs of paws, making biscuits, kneading themselves to sleep.

“Thank you, boyfriend. So,” she mused, “the kitten cast is still here. Does keeping the kittens mean you’ve decided to accept the Kitty Kibbles offer? They did make you TikTok famous.” Amarie held her breath, hoping against hope that her stubborn man would recognize how good he was at his new job. Yes, it was unconventional, but he excelled at it.

“Afraid not. In two days the bachelor auction is over. Dr. Sexy Kitty will meet with a timely disappearance shortly thereafter.”

Amarie shook her head. All their work, it needed to be continued. “Your five hundred thousand fans, their clients, too, will miss you. Think of the void in your absence.”

“There are a billion other TikTokers, let them have it. It’s not me.”