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I heard Twyla’s voice, much more high-pitched than usual, carry on the breeze, together with the scent of honey laundry detergent.
“What do you do all day? I heard you tend to sleep up to twenty hours a day. Is that true? If it is, I’m jealous.”
I waited for a reply but none seemed forthcoming.
“How did you get so big? You’re a little scary looking, you know that, with your big pawsies and big fangs. But I bet you’re just a little softy inside, aren’t you?”
Frowning, I turned the corner to see a feral barn cat curled against Twyla’s chest, held there by a makeshift sling she’d fashioned out of an old sheet. I paused, noting the thick paws of the cat resting against Twyla’s chest as it looked adoringly into her eyes. Its long tapered ears stuck up straight, as though poised to hang on to Twyla’s every word.
I knew that cat—or as I’d nicknamed him, Asshole Cat. He was a mean bastard. Hell, when I first noticed him on my land, he’d almost taken my fingers off when I deigned to pet him. But there he was, soft as a baby, snuggled close to Twyla’s chest.
Hell if it didn’t make me jealous.
“You know that’s a feral cat, right?” I asked, flipping aside a long sheet so it wouldn’t slap me in the face.
Twyla’s eyes snapped to mine as though she hadn’t noticed I was there. I wondered briefly what it would be like not to have mods—to not know when someone was nearby, or smell them before you saw them. It was too odd to wrap my mind around.
When Twyla’s eyes lit up, every thought about mods flew out the window. She met my eyes for a second before she dropped her gaze, a blush tinting her dark cheeks a sweet red. My chest tightened reflexively.
“Hi,” she said shyly, wrapping her arms around the large cat tethered to her chest.
“Hi.” Damn if my voice wasn’t rough.
I strode forward, deciding she’d been away from my arms long enough.
Only my quick reflexes saved me from certain death. At my approach, Asshole Cat turned and swiped at me, claws extended. A keening hiss left its lips.
“Thurston!” Twyla chided, her tone a little like an indulgent mother. “Don’t be mean. Cedra’s a friend.”
She leaned forward and let him down. The cat seemed reluctant to jump out of the cocoon so she unwrapped the sheet and laid it on the ground for him instead. Spoiled cat.
“Just a friend, huh?” I asked, stepping around the gray bundle in case he decided to swipe off some of my toes while I wasn’t looking.
The blush was back on her cheeks again and she had trouble meeting my gaze. I placed a hand on her chin and tilted her head up. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”
She leaned into my chest, burying her forehead against my neck, breathing deep.
My heart felt like it would burst. Gods, she was perfect.
“I wasn’t expecting you back until later,” she murmured, a hand rising to play with the frayed edges of my collar.
“I worked a little faster today ’cause it looked like it might rain.”
She didn’t even move to check the sky. “Then I probably shouldn’t be hanging the laundry outside, huh?”
I laughed. “Yes, ’mara. You probably shouldn’t have. Who’s your new friend?”
“Thurston” still sat on the sheet a few feet away, watching us with his beady little eyes.
Twyla shrugged against me. “I’ve seen him around here before, but he seemed a little shy and never came close. I think he finally decided to trust me today. He was real sweet until you came along.”
I pushed a strand of curly hair behind the soft shell of her ear. “He was marking his territory. I think I interrupted him.”
“He’s cute though, right?” She leaned back a little so she could look at me.
Can we keep him?
Those pleading eyes and pouty lips. I’d give her just about anything and she knew it.
