Page 10 of Christmas Magic

Chapter Two

In the parking lot behind Black Cat Antiquities, Lucian opened the driver’s side door of his Mini Cooper. “I owe you one, Galahad.”

The feline jumped in and crossed the console to sit in the passenger seat. “Molly gets to decorate the store. You get out of there for a while, and I get my favorite food. A win-win situation.”

A sheet of paper had been tucked under the Mini’s windshield wipers. Lucian removed it then sat behind the wheel, put the key in the ignition, and lowered the windows a few inches to let in the breeze.

He glanced over the paper: another flyer. He’d already thrown away two that week. Being the holiday season, there were all kinds of sales and events going on around Cat’s Paw Cove.

With a low growl, Galahad rose on his hind legs, put his nose to the open window, and sniffed the air.

“Problem?” Lucian asked.

“I thought I smelled another cat.”

“Not surprising, with so many in town.”

The squire sniffed again.

Lucian’s brows rose. “And…?”

His hackles up, Galahad dropped down to the seat. “Might be a male Sherwood. Not sure, but if I still smell him when we get back, I’ll investigate.” He growled again. “No one’s moving into my territory. Not when I have four damsels to protect.”

After setting the flyer on the passenger side seat, Lucian ran his hand down the squire’s back. “Don’t get so riled up. I didn’t see any cats earlier when I threw some empty boxes into the dumpster.” He hadn’t seen or sensed anything at all out of the ordinary.

“My nose doesn’t lie.”

“Maybe you detected a stray passing through. Speaking of strays, at the pet store, I’d like to buy a big bag of dry food to donate to the Cove Cat Café. We haven’t donated in a while. Don’t let me forget, okay?”

“Sure thing, my lord.”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me ‘my lord’?”

In the car’s shadowed interior, Galahad’s eyes gleamed. “It is the proper way for me to address you. I might be a cat, but I still take my role as your squire pretty seriously.”

He sure did. Shaking his head, Lucian buckled his seatbelt.

With his front paw, Galahad pointed at the flyer. “It’s for a craft fair.”

“I saw. Wednesday night in Calico Court.”

“All those tables of artsy pottery, scented soap, knitted booties and quilted potholders.” Galahad shuddered. He swatted the paper onto the floor.

Starting the engine, Lucian chuckled. “I’ll give the flyer to Molly. She might like to go. Since the event will be outside in the evening, the craft fair could be kind of romantic.” Lucian pulled out of the parking space. “Glowing lights, hot cocoa—”

Galahad made a choking sound.

Lucian put his foot on the brake. “Hairball? Need to get out?”

“Nah. I imagined you and Molly locking lips again.”

Lucian grinned. That would definitely happen again. “Nothing wrong with romance, especially when you’ve found The One.”

“For you, that’s Molly.”

“For me, that’s Molly.” Lucian turned onto Whiskers Road. “No one will ever mean more to me than she does.” How he meant those words. Falling in love with her had bound their lives together in ways he’d never foreseen, but loving her had made him complete. A better person. He’d never regret asking her to be his wife.

He turned right onto Sherwood Boulevard and soon approached the intersection with Bent Tail Boulevard. The light was turning red. As he braked to bring the Mini to a stop behind a truck, an odd sensation, like crawling ants, trailed across his nape. The sensation was nowhere near as intense as he usually experienced, but still undeniable.