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So nice, that she almost forgot that he’d asked her a question.

“Name,” she murmured softly to herself.

“Yes, name.”

His voice didn’t sound like he was upset or making fun of her.

He sounded… tired.

“Yes, sorry,” she straightened her posture. “Ebi. Her name is Ebi.”

He frowned and the lines that creased his forehead looked like they held more than exhaustion, he looked… confused.

“Effie?”

She shook her head. “Eh-bee.”

Missus Tamura laughed softly. “It’s the Japanese word for shrimp.”

Mari nodded. “My mother was part Japanese and when Ebi was curled up, she thought she looked like a cooked piece of shrimp.”

“Ebi,” he repeated the name as he smoothed his hand over her back. “I guess I can see it.”

As soon as his hand got to Ebi’s backside, the cat flipped over like a pancake on a griddle and bared her white belly for rubs.

“Silly girl,” the man sighed and rubbed his fingers over the cat’s belly. “Shrimp, huh?”

Ebi reached her front paws up and grasped at his hand.

Mari, nervous, since she’d been Ebi’s victim before, took a couple steps forward and reached out a hand.

“No claws.”

Ebi turned her head toward Mari with a droll expression on her face seemed to say that she’d never, ever, do something so silly.

But the often-mischievous cat had proven that she couldn’t be trusted to behave.

Well, at least with Mari.

Her parents thought that Ebi was adorable and sweet.

Qualities that Mari hadn’t seen when she was alone with Ebi, but so far, so good with this man.

A man that Mari was sure could take care of himself.

Mari watched as the man trailed his fingers over Ebi’s belly.

His movements were repetitive, slow, and measured.

And Ebi?

Well that cat ate it up.

She seemed to bask in the man’s touch.

Lucky little…

“How are you doing, Mari?”