Page 40

My eye twitches to hear that last part.

Vincent leans in, his mouth close to my ear. “That’s her, isn’t it? Cindy.”

I glance over at him. “How do you know about Cindy?”

“She’s the one who beat you yesterday. You told me all about it.”

No. I told Mr. Whiskers—and, yeah. I understand.

“Yes, that’s here. Ugh. She’s so annoying. I don’t want to be a sore loser”—and I’m failing miserably at that—“but do you have any idea how long I worked on my pumpkin pie? Then Cindy just happens to show up with orange zest, molasses, and black pepper in hers, too?”

“I’m sure yours was better.”

Not according to Mayor Pete, it wasn’t. “It’s fine. Come on. Let’s go get that funnel cake.”

Of course, right when I’m about to grab his hand and drag him away because he suddenly as a very mischievous look in his eyes, that’s when Cindy turns her head our way.

She sees me first. I know she does because her expression is nothing less than smarmy—until her eyes move to my left and she sets her eyes on Vincent.

Oh, no. Not again.

Cindy excuses herself from the group and crosses toward us within an instant. “Kate. Happy Halloween.”

“Cindy. How are you?”

Not like I care. I also don’t get an answer because her attention has already moved on from me.

“And who is this?” she purrs, tossing her sheet of black hair over her shoulder.

None of your business, I think right as Vincent nods at her in greeting. “Vincent Morrow.”

Cindy gives him a slow once-over. “And where have you been hiding?”

“Mostly under Kate’s bed.”

I nearly choke at how casually he says that.

Cindy, on the other hand, blinks before letting out a laugh that she clearly doesn’t mean. “Well, well, well… lucky Kate.”

“Oh, no,” Vincent says. “I’m the lucky one.”

The way Cindy is looking at him now… it’s obvious she stands by her statement.

It shouldn’t bother me. Vincent is gorgeous. I know that. He definitely knows that. Everyone with functioning eyes probably knows it, too. Cindy is single as far as I know, and I have absolutely no claim on him just because he thinks some supernatural force decided we belong together.

Except he keeps telling me that I’m his mate, and then I kissed him. And that’s not even counting that all the paperwork I have says that Mr. Whiskers belongs to Kate Bellamy—no. That’s not relevant. Mr. Whiskers might be my cat, but Vincent… if he suddenly decides that maybe Cindy is his mate in time to actually get laid on Halloween, I can’t stop him.

But then Cindy reaches out and touches his arm, and I go still. Well. Not completely.

I’m pretty sure my eye is twitching again.

Vincent looks down at her hand, frowning, but she doesn’t hold his attention long. Just like he has all day, his eyes immediately find me again—and when he sees me stewing in place, his brown eyes flash green.

Uh-oh.

His grin widens, and I have to admit that he knows.

Somehow, the smug asshole knows that I don’t like another woman touching him, and he looks so delighted by this discovery that I have this sudden urge to push him into the nearest decorative hay bale before I run all the way back home to my apartment.