Page 39 of Herding Cat

“He could have shot you in the head.”

“But he didn’t.”

She humphed, crossed her arms and resumed glowering at the Kowloon cityscape.

“You should stop by the hospital,” Luke said over his shoulder. The suggestion made the little hairs on his nape rise.

“I’m fine.”

“Bet you’ve got one hell of a bruise.”

It was probably childish, but Garrett kicked the seat in front of him. “I’m fine.”

“Does it hurt?” Mae poked him—right where it hurt—and he winced.

“No.” He took her little finger in his hand as a precaution.

“I could kiss it and make it better if it hurts,” she persisted.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Then why are you so cranky?” she asked, tipping her head to the side.

“I’m not cranky!”

Mae stared at him as though she didn’t believe him for a second, then she leaned toward Catherine and whispered, loudly enough for everyone to hear, “I think he’s cranky.”

Catherine nodded and though she attempted to maintain her dour expression, her lips quirked. “He is.”

He waited a while before he muttered, “Am not,” which for some reason made Mae break into peals of laughter.

He didn’t know why that sound, and Catherine’s responding chuckle, lifted his mood.

Hell, he hadn’t even realized he’d been so...cranky.

He had good reason.

For one, he’d been shot.

For another, Catherine was being distant.

And finally, his body was still buzzing with adrenaline and yes, his chest hurt like hell.

It was soothing sitting here, with a small weight on his lap, being poked by curious fingers and being called out by a diminutive cynic.

He liked having Catherine at his side and Mae on his lap.

It surprised him how much he liked it.

Of course, as such things went, as soon as he relaxed into the feeling, as soon as he realized how pleasant it was, it ended. The car pulled up to the orphanage and they all piled out.

As Mae hopped off his lap, an empty feeling took up residence in his chest. Contrary to what he’d told Catherine, he’d never thought much about having a wife and children. He’d always known that at some far-off point in the future, he’d marry, but it had been a nebulous idea. A someday thing.

Then again, he’d never met a woman he enjoyed being with—in so many ways—until he met Catherine.

It was a crazy prospect to contemplate, despite the fact he’d joked with her last night about this very thing—but he could see her in his life. Today, tomorrow and always.

And wasn’t it funny how—once he acknowledged it—the thought took root?