Her attention swung back to him.
“Did you know I have a cat?”
Her brows flickered. “You don’t.”
“I do. She’s black with a white strip down the middle of her face, and she’s very demanding when it comes to food. A bit like me.”
“You don’t strike me as a cat owner.”
“Idon’t strike me as a cat owner. Yet here I am.”
Suspicion danced in her eyes, competing with the fear. “What’s her name?”
“I haven’t named her yet. Any ideas?”
“Saint. Because if she’s real, she must be one to put up with you.”
He chuckled. “Is it all men you hate, or just me?”
“I don’t hate men. I’m just very firm in my belief that they take. And once they’re done taking, they leave.”
He slipped a piece of hair off her cheek. “Sounds like you haven’t met the right guy yet.”
“Doesn’t matter which guy it is—he’ll leave once he’s done.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you’ll push him away before he has a chance to prove he’s there to stay.”
She blinked, then shook her head, her gaze moving around the room again, that panic once again settling into her expression.
“Polly—”
“I just need to do this for a second.” She leaned her head into his chest. Then her temple was touching him, her breath whispering against his shirt.
He slipped his hand to her back and started to rub slow circles. Her breathing was loud, but it was also steady. Measured.
Good.
Her forehead was warm against his chest, the heat penetrating his shirt, moving into his skin. There was nothing awkward about the way they waited. It was comfortable. Easy. And as long as her breathing remained steady, he was happy.
They only had to wait another minute or two before the click of a lock sounded above. Light streamed into the room.
He squinted up to see Connor crouching at the top of the stairs. His friend opened his mouth, only to pause at the sight of Polly leaning against his chest.
Joel mouthed a thanks, and his friend dipped his chin before slipping away.
“Sunshine…the door’s open.”
Her head lifted, and she scrunched her eyes at the light. It wasn’t actually that bright, but compared to the basement, it was like looking at the sun.
He kept a hand on the middle of her back as he helped her up the steps. When they reached the top, Joel made sure she was steady before studying the outside of the door. It was one of those old barrel bolts. The kind that had to be pulled over and notched into place. The kind that was physically impossible to move on its own from the wind or momentum.
Someone had locked them in.
He scanned the area, but no one was there. Had it been a joke?
Polly was already moving into the café.
He closed the door and followed her. “Has that ever happened before?”
