Page 5

The cat makes a loud, disgusted sound.

Gage looks away first.

Coward.

I recover enough dignity to point at the door. "You should go."

"You didn't answer."

"And now you'll never know."

Another almost-smile. "You're terrible at this."

"At what?"

"Pretending you're not interested."

My cheeks flame. "Out."

He backs toward the door, but his gaze returns to the mirror. "Don't touch it again."

"You're very bossy for someone who doesn't pay rent here."

"I mean it."

"So do I."

He pauses at the door. October air slides past him into the shop, sharp with dead leaves and coming rain.

"Lock the back door today."

"It's ten in the morning."

"Lock it."

Before I can argue, he's gone. I watch him cross the sidewalk. Black jeans. Heavy boots. Shoulders built for carrying grudges.

Ridiculously tight ass.

I immediately hate myself for noticing.

The cat meows.

"Judging me?"

He licks one paw.

"Rude."

I pick him up. He allows it with the resigned air of royalty enduring airport security. I carry him out, set him on the sidewalk, close the door, and turn around.

And, he's sitting back on the counter.

I freeze. "No fucking way."

He blinks.

I check the door. Still closed. I pick him up again. Outside. Door shut. I count to five and turn.