“They usually do. It’s one of their many charming qualities.”
He steps closer, close enough that I can smell his cologne and count the laugh lines around his eyes. “Any chance they approve of what I’m about to do?”
“Depends on what you’re about to do.”
Instead of answering, he pulls me in hard and kisses me senseless once again right here beside the purple fountain, with autumn leaves swirling around us and the sound of haunted house music providing the perfect soundtrack to what might be the best ending to the worst week of my life.
His lips are warm and confident, and he tastes like possibility and the kind of trouble that’s worth getting into. When we finally break apart, I’m melting like chocolate left in the sun and my brain has apparently decided to take an unscheduled vacation.
“How was that?” he asks, his voice rough around the edges.
“Getting there,” I manage, my pulse hammering like it’s tryingto escape through my eardrums. “Though I think I might need more practice to be sure.”
His grin is criminally attractive. “I think that can be arranged.”
Because if solving murders means getting kissed by Detective Dreamboat under pumpkin lanterns while my cats provide commentary and killers get dragged away in handcuffs, I’m pretty sure I’ve just discovered the perfect recipe for a life worth living.
CHAPTER 25
Chip
Following Josie and Detective Dreamboat through all the spooky chaos at the park feels like being part of the best parade ever—especially when there’s a certain rhinestone-wearing poodle somewhere nearby.
Laughter and screams light up the night, while the scent of kettle corn makes me wish I could dive into one of those limited-edition glow-in-the-dark popcorn buckets.
Pumpkin lanterns glow through the bare branches overhead, and somewhere a mechanical ghost named Dilly keeps saying, “BOO!” every thirty seconds as if she’s on a mission to ruin every romantic moment in a fifty-yard radius. The cobblestones beneath my paws are scattered with maple leaves that crunch satisfyingly as Fish and I trot along behind the hoomans.
Things are really looking up around here,I announce to Fish as we follow Josie and Detective Dreamboat through the winding pathways of our kingdom.No more killers lurking around the dessert tables, no more mysterious rolling pins showing up ininappropriate places, and best of all—unlimited access to all the dropped funnel cake we can stomach.
I’ll admit, I’m pretty grateful for the funnel cake,she says, licking up a morsel for herself.And I’m grateful that things are looking up around here, too. That’s because we helped Josie catch the killer,Fish mewls with pride.Our hooman has excellent detective instincts.
So do we,I point out, because credit should be given where credit is due.We provided crucial moral support and tactical ankle assistance.
True. And if she’s anything like Bizzy when it comes to finding corpses, we’ll have to make sure she stays safe because there’s bound to be another body just waiting for her to trip over it,Fish continues.And to do that, we need to show up for work every single day. No more sleeping in, no more all day snacking, no more extended nap breaks. This is serious business.
I can handle the responsibility,I tell her with the confidence of an orange ball of fluff who’s recently been featured on national television.Though, I reserve the right to take emergency treat breaks if the situation becomes too stressful, and naps, and I might need to sleep in once in a while—like seven mornings a week.
Fish and I are debating the finer points of workplace safety when I spot something that makes my heart do things that probably violate several laws of feline physiology.
Cupcake approaches through the crowd, still wearing her princess costume that makes her look like she stepped out of a fairy tale written specifically for dogs with excellent taste in accessories. Her white fur practically glows, and her rhinestone tiara catches the purple and orange illumination with the kind of sparkle that makes my whiskers twitch with appreciation.
Oh my cheese,I breathe, temporarily forgetting how to function like a normal cat.She’s magnificent. Like a cotton candy sculpture that learned to walk and developed opinions about proper groomingtechniques.
Here we go,Fish mutters as if she were about to witness yet another romantic catastrophe.Try not to embarrass yourself too badly, Romeo.
Well, hello there, handsome,Cupcake gives a soft woof as she reaches us, her Southern accent making everything sound like poetry written by angels.Don’t you look dashing after your heroic crime-fighting adventure?
Thank you,I manage, puffing out my fluffy chest with pride.It was nothing really. Just standard detective work involving strategic positioning and excellent timing.
It was very impressive,she continues with the kind of smile that makes my brain temporarily shut down all non-essential functions.I do appreciate a male who can handle himself in dangerous situations.
And after that whole ankle thing, he handled himself by getting tangled up in someone’s hair,Fish interjects with brutal honesty.Very heroic hair-tangling.
It was tactical hair-tangling,I correct with dignity.Part of the overall capture strategy.
Of course, it was, sugar,Cupcake says with silky smoothness that could charm the spots off a leopard.I’m sure it was absolutely crucial to the mission’s success.
Meanwhile, our hoomans are having their own conversation that I should probably be paying attention to, since it involves future living arrangements and career prospects.
