Cat Rescuer

By Hollis Shiloh

Taylor is glad to help the cute guy with his cat rescue. But is he imagining these sparks between himself and Marcus?

8,300 words

heat level: sweet

This short story was previously a Patreon reward.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Spare Words Press
• Release date: Mar 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386320517

Book preview

About the story:

Taylor is glad to help the cute guy with his cat rescue.  But is he imagining these sparks between himself and Marcus?

8,300 words

heat level: sweet

Cat Rescuer

by Hollis Shiloh

H elp.

Taylor looked up, pausing from wiping the table. 

Help, the man said again, pushing his way into the diner, making the bell jingle.  It was that guy, the cute one, who stopped by every day.  Marcus.

But today, at almost closing time, with snow falling and Taylor's feet aching and Taylor more than ready to go home, here he was.

Holding a big orange cat with matted fur.

And not wearing a smile for the first time since Taylor had first seen him five weeks ago. 

Not that he'd been keeping track.

The guy, Marcus, was about Taylor's age and had that half-stubbly thing going on.  Nothing about him was Taylor's type—or so Taylor had thought before Marcus walked into the diner and ordered his regular coffee in a quiet voice.  All while staring at Taylor like he was something from a famous painting and he just couldn't look away.

Taylor had been waiting for Marcus to ask him out for weeks now.  But had he?  No. 

Apparently, he just liked to watch waiters at crappy diners. 

At least he'd shared his name.  But even that Taylor had almost had to pry out of him.

The thought made him madder than it should, especially because it never felt like ogling, the way Marcus looked at him.  More like he thought Taylor was amazing. 

It was a nice feeling.  Not all diner patrons were half so pleasant to deal with.

Is that your cat? Taylor asked.

It was a stupid thing to say.  Clearly it wasn't, unless Marcus carried around half-dead looking cats with matted fur on a regular basis.  And he already knew the man didn't.

Taylor put down the dishcloth and walked over, taking off his apron on the way.  The hell with it.  He was due to clock out in ten minutes, anyway.  Glancing back at the kitchen, he moved forward, holding out the apron to help bundle up the cat.

It lay very still.

Th-thank you.  Marcus was trembling, and he'd brought the cold in with him.  His breath was puffs of warmth, but the rest of him exuded cold, from the snow that had powdered his jacket to the whoosh of air that had flung itself