It had come in fifteen minutes ago.
“Bubba’s coming,” I said, glancing up. “So add a tray for him.”
“Of course,” Jeremy replied smoothly. Then, after a beat, “And Mr. Cooper?”
I grimaced. “I don’t know yet.”
Which was the truth. Coop could either show up calm and quiet or explode like a damn firecracker depending on how he heard about things.
“I’ll check on him,” I added. “But let’s assume he’ll be here as soon as he finds out and—” I hesitated, the words sticking unexpectedly.
Jeremy waited.
“…Actually,” I said, exhaling, “I need to call Manning and let her know too.”
I didn’t like it. Not even a little. But liking it didn’t matter.
Rachel had been Frankie’s constant. Her shield. Her anchor when everything else was shifting under her feet. And right now, Frankie deserved every security blanket she could get her hands on.
Jeremy inclined his head, approval flickering briefly across his face. “I’ll plan accordingly.”
God. I really, really loved him.
“Thanks,” I said quietly.
He gave me the smallest smile. “That’s what I’m here for, Mr. Archie.”
With that, he turned smoothly toward the stairs to start orchestrating what amounted to a small army of care—food, space, and timing. In the meanwhile, I headed toward the sunroom to find Frankie and take care of who actually mattered.
Unsurprisingly, Manning answered on the first ring. “What’s happened? Is Frankie alright?”
Yeah, we weren’t close and why else would I be calling her? “To be determined…” I began before I filled her in on what had just happened.
Chapter
Twenty
FRANKIE
The second Jeremy opened the sunroom door, the sound hit me first.
Tabby’s offended yowl—loud and accusatory like I’d personally abandoned her in a crate on purpose—followed by Tory’s softer, breathier meow and then the unmistakable rattle of something plastic being attacked with tiny teeth.
My chest unclenched so hard it actually hurt.
“There they are,” Jake said quietly beside me, like he was worried saying it louder might spook me.
I didn’t answer because I couldn’t. My throat went tight, and the world narrowed to warm light and green plants and three carriers lined up near the windows like someone had set them out as an offering.
Tabby’s carrier was shaking. Tiddles’ was silent in a way that made panic flicker up my spine. And Tory had a paw shoved through the bars, batting at the air like she was trying to slap the whole universe for inconveniencing her. Or reaching out to me for help.
I crossed the room too fast.
Jeremy moved like he’d anticipated it, stepping out of my path but staying close enough that if I crumpled he could catchme without making it a whole thing. He had already arranged everything—fresh litter in a temporary box, food bowls, water, a folded blanket, a little tower of toys, all positioned as neatly as if my cats were aristocracy.
Tabby saw me and screamed again.
“Oh my god,” I breathed, dropping to my knees in front of her carrier. My fingers shook so much I fumbled the latch once. Twice. “I’m here. I’m here, baby, I’m here.”
