When he looks up and sees me, I pause dramatically and place a hand over my heart. “I have nothing left to teach you.”
He grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Not too shabby, huh?”
“That might be better than I could do.”
I know right away that offering up a compliment so easily was a step too far, because he narrows his eyes. Eyes that look wary and tired, smudged with dark circles underneath. “What are you doing?”
I shrug. “Just bored.”
He’s not convinced. “You’re a terrible liar, Amelia.”
“Hey,” I object. “That’s not nice.”
One dark brow arches. “It’s not? Is it considered a good thing to be a good liar?”
“Well,” I flounder. “No. But it’s not nice to call me out when I came all the way here just to check on you.”
The second brow joins the first. “Check on me? Why?”
“Your texts. They seemed sad.”
He rolls his eyes like that’s ridiculous, but we both know it’s true. “I’m fine,” he says.
“Now who’s the bad liar?”
Gregory ignores that. And then, apparently, decides to ignoreme. He lets out a sigh so deep, I feel it in my own chest. He resumes stacking. I stand there for a long moment, considering. Should I leave him alone? Give him some space? I’m not sure if that’s what he wants, but it goes against my instincts. I’m not going to make him tell me what’s going on, but I want him to know I’m here and available if he decides he wants to talk.
So I sidle up next to him and start on the other side. We finish the orange display, and I wait while he goes to the back for apples. At one point he tries to tell me, “You don’t have to do this,” but the glare I send him must do the trick, because he doesn’t say another word. When we’re done with restocking, I slip to the bulletin board posted in the back hallway and look at the schedule. Gregory gets off at seven, which is only fifteen minutes away, so I camp out in the break room to wait next to the time clock.
Three minutes after seven, he comes in. He says nothing as he slips off his vest and shoves it into a locker, then swipes his badge through the machine. His back is to me, and he standsthere for a beat, as if preparing himself. Finally he turns to face me, arms crossed.
“Well?” he asks. “What are we doing?”
I stand and walk straight past him to the door. “I’m taking you to my favorite place in Kingfisher Cove.”
“The music store?” he asks from behind me, following just like I hoped he would.
“I do love it there,” I say, “but that’s not the vibe right now.”
“Vibe for what?” he asks.
I don’t answer directly. “It’s where I like to go when I want peace and quiet, or when I just want to think.”
Soon we spill out onto the sidewalk and start walking. The sun’s on its way down, and it won’t be long before it blankets Kingfisher Cove in an orange glow.
“How’d Waffles do at your place?” I ask. “Did your mom freak out?”
“Surprisingly, no,” he says. “The only thing she was mad about was that he wouldn’t let her anywhere near him. For weeks I’ve been trying to get him to let me hold him, and lo and behold all I needed to do was kidnap him and take him home. He didn’t leave my lap the entire drive home, and after I went inside, he started howling and scratching when I tried to put him down.”
“Aw,” I say. “You’re his safe place.”
“Made going to the bathroom a challenge,” he jokes, but it sounds halfhearted.
“I didn’t need to know that.”
“I kind of want to keep him,” Gregory says.
I won’t lie, I hoped that might happen. I worried about what would happen to the sweet but nervous cat when I realized it was unlikely he’d be reunited with Fiona. She’ll need to stay with the kittens until they’re weaned, and Dr. Valentine hopes to adopt them all out, Fiona included, when that happens.
