Brendan Redbird is a man of science and a medical professional. When this very uptight, predictable guy is adopted by a naughty talking cat (Tom) and his two brothers (Dick and Harry), Brendan's life makes an unpredictable turn.Tom smacks a girl on the butt and lets Brendan take the blame. The only problem is the girl Tom smacked is a water nymph, Myrotessa, or Tessa for short. She isn't about to let Brendan off with that ridiculous excuse. Tessa has healing waters and the gift of prophecy—but she did not see that coming.When the magical felines of Cat's Paw Cove begin succumbing to a mysterious malady, Tessa and Brendan are forced to work together to find a cure. Along the way to helping others, they fix the cracks in their hearts—and are healed with a kiss.
At FFRH’s Valentine’s-Day-bedecked reception desk, Tessa glanced up from her conversation with Agnes. A tall, handsome man chatted with Grandma Redbird and Rory O’Brogan, and standing next to him were Big D and Charly. That must be Charly’s brother. The resemblance between the two redheads was unmistakable. His grandmother had been talking non-stop about Brendan when she’d heard he was coming to visit.
Grandma Redbird hadn’t been kidding about how good-looking he was—and tall. His grandmother looked like a child by comparison. Tessa wondered how much he’d been kidded about that bright red hair. Grandma Redbird had called him “Gingerbread Man.” Well, he looked tasty enough to eat. And he was a runner. His proud grandparent had told anyone in hearing distance how many marathons he’d been in, even the one in Boston.
Brendan snatched his wire-rimmed glasses off his face and used them to poke at the air in front of Rory. That couldn’t be good.
“I said I don’t want to see you,” Brendan shouted. “Grandma, how could you do this to me?”
“Brendan, please,” she begged. “Let the man speak.”
“Ye wouldn’t let me come to see ye—and yet, here ye are.”
“To see my sister and grandmother,” Brendan growled. “Not you.”
Agnes placed her tiny hand over Tessa’s. “Please do something. The Flower Girls are cowering by the ferns.”
Tessa nodded and strode out from behind the polished mahogany desk.
“Grandma Redbird,” she called as she approached the tense cluster. “This must be your grandson, Brendan.” She reached for his outstretched hand, the one holding his spectacles. “I’m Tessa Crinos. I’ve heard so many good things about you.”
He wrenched his glare away from Rory to her, and his expression changed from anger to confusion.
She held his clenched fist until it relaxed a bit. “Welcome to Feline Fine Retirement Home. We hope you enjoy dinner with us. I’m in charge of beverages, so if there’s anything in particular you’d like, let me know.”
As she spoke, a prophecy came to her. Brendan, dressed in a tuxedo, stood under a canopy. His warm brown eyes crinkled with a smile. A bride approached him, her identity hidden behind a heavy white veil.
He spoke, dissipating the vision. “Your tattoos changed to a darker blue. How did you do that?”
She shook her head and gave a little laugh. “Temperature sensitive.”
Before his arrival, Grandma had warned everyone he didn’t believe in Magicals or the supernatural. “A man of science,” the elderly woman had said, shaking her head. “Imagine that. He has no interest whatsoever in claiming his abilities—and scoffs at his sister’s and mine. Where did I go wrong?”
Brendan quirked an eyebrow. “I’ve never heard of color-changing tattoos before. Interesting. I’ll have to look that up.”
“Nanotechnology. It’s cutting edge.” Tess turned to Grandma Redbird. “Let me escort your party to the dining room. Our executive chef has prepared several options for our guests this evening.”
Clearly thinking Tessa was out of earshot, Brendan whispered to his sister, “Is she dating anyone?”
Thrilled at his interest, Tessa suppressed a giggle. She brought the group to the podium. “Meddy will take you to your table. Enjoy your meal.”
Grandma Redbird clutched her hand. “Thank you, dear.”
She winked at the gray-haired woman. “My pleasure.”
Brendan nodded and smiled at her. Her chest tightened and her stomach fluttered. Settle down, girl. A man of science won’t fall for a naiad, a freshwater nymph, even if she is a minor deity.
“Have a good evening.” She left, hoping he was still looking at her as she walked away. She glanced back—and his gaze snagged hers. Heat filled her cheeks. He was looking at me. He likes me, he really likes me. She wanted to skip, but kept a sedate pace, albeit with extra sass in her walk.