Ingrid let out a gasp and pulled back, too.
Roxie’s gaze locked with the cat’s.It stood in her lap, looking up at her with those tricky feline eyes.Her neck had never felt so vulnerable.She couldn’t tell if the evil little creature was going to go for her jugular or wanted to play.
“Oh, my goodness.I’m so sorry.”Finally, something had jarred Ingrid’s calm.She stood from her seat and reached for the ball of fur.“She’s never done this before.Let me—”
Not breaking eye contact, the cat sat down.
Ingrid paused, even more confused.
Something made Roxie hold up her hand.“It’s all right.”
As much as she didn’t trust it, the cat felt warm and soft.Its weight was grounding and comforting—for a cat.What confused Roxie the most was that her little friend was white.White and fuzzy and cuddly.
Damn it, clichés were started for a reason.Did this shop have to break every one of them?
Ingrid frowned.“I don’t understand this.She’s usually very shy and standoffish with guests.She doesn’t even let Monique pet her.”
No worries there.Roxie had no plans of going that far.She settled her hands on the outside of her thighs, ready to latch onto the sneaky feline if it went for her.
“I don’t usually…” Ingrid lifted her gaze.“I typically ask people for an item they have with them, a hairclip or a wallet, but would you mind if I took your hand?”
Roxie looked from the cat in her lap to the woman across the table.Puss in Boots had made itself comfortable, sitting down all the way and tucking its paws underneath it.Ingrid, however, didn’t look so comfortable anymore—and that made Roxie’s trust go up.
A little.
Hesitantly, she lifted her hand.Ingrid took it, her touch light and soft.
Until the static energy hit.
Roxie flinched and her gaze snapped upwards.Her attention quickly returned to the cat to make sure it didn’t pounce.
“Ohhh,” Ingrid said sympathetically.“That explains it.”
Her grip tightened.
“You’re both rescues.”
Some might have found the word offensive.
To Roxie, they were so true her heart clenched.Her fingers curled, nearly pulling away from the woman who was studying her so intently.
“What… What did you say?”she asked.
“I rescued Moonlight from the shelter,” Ingrid said, her gaze turning soft on her cat.
Roxie, hater of all things feline, found herself cradling the cat in her lap with her free hand.Her fingers sank into its luxurious fur, and the cat bumped its head into her forearm.
“I… how…”
“You were abandoned, too,” Ingrid surmised.Her tone was gentle, but her brow furrowed.“And you were rescued.Just like her.”
Billy.
Roxie’s breath caught, even as her brain raced.What tells had she accidentally given off?She’d come in alone, but that didn’t mean anything.She was tough, yes, but people grew hardened for many reasons.
How the hell had this strait-laced blonde jumped to the assumption that she was an orphan?
Roxie’s foot bounced.She suddenly wanted Billy here with her.Now.
