“You mind getting the bin out of the back?” Mo asks.
I grab the handles of a large tote and drag it out. It’s huge. I’m surprised it even fit back there.
“What the hell do you have in here?” I ask, trailing behind them into the house.
Mo deposits Atticus’s carrier on the floor in the entry and counts on her fingers. “Cat tower, cat food, cat treats, leash, harness?—”
“How much shit does one cat need?”
“You’d be surprised. This cat is spoiled rotten.” She leans her face close to the mesh. “Aren’t you, Fatticus?”
Callie crouches down to pull open the zipper. “I told you to stop calling him that. You’re gonna give him a complex.”
A massive grey and white long-haired cat peeks its head out of the top. White tufts pop out of his ears, his eyes are moss green, and he has what some might call a resting bitch face.
“Andyougave him mommy issues,” Mo says in a teasing tone. “Can’t say I’d blame him if he decides to hold a grudge. After all, youdidabandon him for some cushy apartment in Willow Valley.”
Callie averts her gaze. She doesn’t let on how much the accusation stings, playful though it was, but I know her well enough to recognize the hurt in her eyes.
Atticus hops out with a dramatic swish of his tail. He butts up against Callie’s hand once and lets him pet her for a few seconds before he yowls and circles my legs.
I bend to pet the disgruntled cat, and a loud purr rumbles from his chest.
“Looks like Fatticus likes his new daddy,” Mo quips. “Why are you staying with this dipshit anyway?”
Callie trails into the living room and slumps onto the sofa. “The apartment is under new ownership. Rent is going up, and they offered to let me out of my lease early.”
My beautiful little liar. I almost can’t believe Mo’s buyingit. Then again, maybe I can. Mo never visited this so-called apartment Callie was living in, or they would’ve found out the truth, and Callie wouldn’t have had to live in her car for five months. Mo’s been a negligent friend. I won’t call them out, but they’re inching their way to the very top of my shit list.
I pick up the storage bin and follow them.
“That doesn't explain how you ended up at the ranch.”
Callie rolls her lips together. “Um…”
I cut in. “I was at the library when I overheard her telling Janet she needed to find a new place. Almost had to kidnap her, but she agreed when I told her Atticus could move in, too.”
The devil’s in the details, and Callie’s not the only skilled liar in the room.
“Kidnapping would’ve been a much better story,” Mo says.
“Anyway. Thanks again for taking care of him. I don't know what I would’ve done.”
Mo types out a text to someone and places their phone face down on their lap. “You can thank me next weekend when you join me for a double date.”
Callie winces.
“Don’t give me that look. I’m not taking no for an answer. You owe me.”
My jaw ticks as I deposit the tote on the coffee table and pry open the lid. Mo’s not a bad person, but they’re testing my patience.
“Fine,” Callie releases a resigned sigh. “Who’s my date?”
There’s that fucking word again.Fine.It's a blatant lie every time it slips past those pretty pink lips, but she’s too goddamn agreeable to say how she really feels.
Mo’s phone chimes, and they hold it out for Callie to read. “His name is Clint.”
I pull up short, my grip tightening around the bottom half of a cat tower. “Clint Campbell?”
