“A lot.” She locked the door and shut it. “Mostly, though, I think she wanted
“Do you believe her?”
“Of course not.” She shoved the kitten inside her jean jacket and hung a big purse over one shoulder. The same big purse that carried her Taser. “Especially when she let it slip that your mother set a pile of your father’s clothes on fire.”
“Yeah. I remember that.” It was certainly no secret. “I remember the grass in the front yard didn’t grow back for a long time.” He’d probably been five at the time. A year before his mother had completely lost it.
“And in case you’ve heard the rumor, no, there is not going to be a movie starring Colin Farrell and Angelina Jolie.”
He’d heard the rumor and was relieved to hear it wasn’t true. “Are you wearing your pajamas?”
The kitten poked its head out of her jacket as Maddie looked down. “I don’t think anyone will notice.”
“I noticed.”
“Yeah, but I was wearing pajama pants like this last night.” She looked up and a sexy little smile teased the corners of her lips. “For a little while anyway.”
And she didn’t think they were going to have sex again. Right. “Is that you?” he asked.
“Is what me?”
“I smell Rice Krispies treats.” He took a step toward her and dipped his head. “Of course it’s you.”
“That’s my Marshmallow Fluff body butter.”
“Body butter?” Oh, God. Did she really think they wouldn’t end up in bed together again? “I’ve thought about you all day.” He put his hand on the side of her throat and pressed his fore head to hers. “Naked.” Beneath his thumb, her pulse pounded through her veins almost as hard as his beat through his body.
“I’m back on the wagon.”
“You’re back to being sort of, kind of, celibate?”
“Yes.”
“I can change your mind.” He was trying to convince a woman to be with him, something he didn’t normally do. Either they wanted to or they didn’t.
“Not this time,” she said, although she didn’t sound particularly convinced.
But when it came to Maddie, nothing was normal. “You love the way I kiss and touch your body. Remember?”
“I, ahh…” she stammered.
Normally he didn’t think and obsess about a woman all day. He didn’t wonder what she was doing. If she was working or finding dead mice or how he was going to get her naked again. “You’re already dressed for bed.” He brushed his mouth across hers and her lips parted on a little gasp. Normally he didn’t waste his time because there were others he didn’t have to try and convince. “You know you want to.”
“Meow.”
She took a step back and his hand dropped to his side. “I have to buy cat food.”
Mick lowered his gaze to the white furry head poking out of Maddie’s jean jacket. That cat was pure evil.
“Good girl, Snowball,” she said and patted her kitten’s head. She looked up at him, then turned toward the front of the store. “Watch out for him. He’s a very bad man.”
Chapter 13
The little collar had pink sparkles and a tiny pink bell and when Maddie had walked to the road to check her mail at around three, she’d found it in her mailbox. No note. No card. Just the collar.
Mick was the only other person who knew about Snowball. She hadn’t told any of her friends for fear they’d all die of shock. Maddie Jones—cat owner? Impossible. She’d spent most of her life hating cats, but here she stood, pink collar in hand and staring down at a white ball of fur curled up in her office chair.
She scooped the kitten up in both hands and brought it face level. “This is my chair,” she said. “I made you a bed.” She carried the kitten to the laundry room and set her on a folded towel inside an Amazon box. “Rule number one: I’m the boss. Number two: you can’t get on my furniture and get it all hairy.” She knelt down and placed the collar around Snowball’s neck.
“Meow.”
Maddie scowled.
“Meow.”
“Fine. You look cute.” She stood and pointed a finger in the kitten’s direction. “Rule number three: I let you in and gave you some food. That’s where it ends. I don’t like cats.” She turned on her heels and walked out of the laundry room. The tinkling of a bell followed her into the kitchen and she looked down at her feet. She sighed and pulled a local telephone book out of a drawer. She turned to the yellow pages, reached for her cell phone, and punched in the seven numbers.
“Mort’s,” a man answered, but it wasn’t Mick.
“Is Mick available?”
“He usually doesn’t show up until eight.”
“Could you give him a message for me?”
“Let me grab a pen.” There was a pause and then, “Okay.”
“Mick, thanks for the pink collar. Snowball.”
“Did you say ‘Snowball?”
“Yeah. Sign it ‘Snowball.’”
“Got it.”
“Thanks.” Maddie disconnected and closed the phone book. At ten minutes after eight while Maddie glanced through a crime magazine, her phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Your cat called me.”
Just the sound of Mick’s voice made her smile, which was a very bad sign. “What did she want?”
“To thank me for her collar.”
Maddie glanced at Snowball lying in the red chair, licking her leg and in flagrant disregard of rule number two. “She has good manners.”
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Teaching Snowball which fork to use.”
He chuckled. “When is she going to bed?”
She flipped a page in the magazine and her gaze scanned an article about a man who’d killed three of his trophy wives. “Why?”
“I want to see you.”
She wanted to see him too. Bad. And that was the problem. She didn’t
