"No, I took the long way home, since I didn't know the details about Jeremiah." The ghost of a grin crossed his face. "Did I ever tell you that story? About how I had to find out who shot Santa in the middle of my trip?"
"No, you never did. But we were pretty busy, saving Shelley from the witches. I'd like to hear it, though."
He reached out and pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear, which made me shiver a little. "And I'd like to tell you about it, but first we'd better go inside, so Lou can show me exactly how pissed off she is at me for leaving her."
Oh, boy. He was right. I hadn't even thought about it, but Lieutenant Uhura was definitely going to show her disapproval. My cat, who'd shown up on my porch as a stray when she was a tiny kitten, felt that she was the queen of the house. She had been pretty skeptical of a new cat the size of Jack's Bengal tiger showing up and spending time at what she considered to beherhouse, but then she'd fallen in love with him pretty quickly.
Falling in love. My breath got stuck in my throat, and I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe. Just at theideaof falling in love with Jack.
Nope. Not going there. It was way too early to think about falling in love, especially when we'd never even made it to our first date yet.
When I opened the door, Lou ran up to meet me and jumped in my arms. She started purring, but then her entire furry little body stiffened and she raised her head to look over my shoulder. When she caught sight of Jack, she screeched and leapt straight up into the air, leaving claw marks in my shirt.
Jack was unperturbed though. With lightning-fast shifter reflexes, he reached out and snatched her out of the air before she could fall and hurt herself on the wooden floor.
"I'm glad to see you, beautiful girl," he crooned, but Lou was having none of it.
She yowled again and shot out of his arms, leaping all the way to the couch in one bound.
"I bet you have claw marks on your shirt too," I said, smiling in spite of myself.
Good for you, Lou.
"I know. I deserve it, Lou." He glanced at me, laughter sparkling in his eyes. "I probably deserved it from you too, but I guess that's the cat equivalent of punching me in the stomach."
I dropped my stuff on the couch and then froze, as a horrible thought crossed my mind. "You can never, ever tell Aunt Ruby about that. I'd get a two-hour lecture on Southern manners."
"Scout's honor."
"You were a Boy Scout?"
"Cub Scout."
"Really?"
"Tiger cub." He burst out laughing, and I groaned and headed for the kitchen to find food. I hadn't had much lunch, and I was suddenly starving. Amazing how having your hot tiger return to town and try to kiss you jolted the appetite.
"Do you have any pie?"
"Nope. I also am down one pie pan, after the death skull cooties. We can order pizza, or I have sandwich fixings and soup."
"The what cooties? And sandwiches are fine. Great, even. Too much pizza and junk food on the road."
I pulled sandwich stuff and leftover homemade chicken noodle soup out of the fridge, telling him about Lucky and the skeleton, while Jack got out the plates, bowls, and silverware. We moved around the kitchen like we had so many times, during so many meals, but it felt a little awkward.
A little off-rhythm.
There's a synchronized choreography you fall into with someone you care about when you're doing ordinary tasks—a ballet of the mundane, given grace by the harmony between the people involved.
Jack and I'd had that before he left, but we were off the beat now—missing steps in the dance. I wondered if we'd get it back.
Hoped we would.
Was scared we wouldn't.
"Tea?" He held up the glass pitcher I'd found at a flea market.
"No, I'll just have water. Sorry, I don't think I have any beer."
