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He made another high-pitched noise before he flopped down onto his side in the sunshine and rolled around the tiled floor, making weird little noises as he flipped from side to side and ultimately finished belly up so he could clean his stomach fur.
I looked at him for a moment. Good grief, that cat wasweird. I’d never known a cat to show off their tummy quite as much as he did.
I scraped the leftover food from my dinner into the bin before His Royal Highness got any ideas about snaffling up the half of a chicken breast I’d left behind. He could be grumpy all he liked, but it wasn’t like he was completely out of sorts here. I’d even brought his scratching posts with me along with his bed, litter tray, and bowls, and there was an entire pile of little cat toys in the living room to keep him amused.
There was even a children’s hamster toy that took batteries. I knew he wouldn’t be happy about having to be stuck inside, so I’d bought something he could chase to his heart’s content.
Well, until the batteries ran out.
Same thing.
Although I suspected the batteries would run out before his desire to chase it would.
Something knocked in the direction of the front door, making me pause. What was that? Winston was still cleaning himself without a care in the world, so it wasn’t him. Surprisingly. He was usually the cause of any strange and random noises.
Even not so strange or random ones.
It sounded again, and it was definitely someoneknocking, not something.
Was it the handsome guy from earlier? I hoped not. I was in my pyjamas. Then again, that was how things usually went in my books with my hot mess heroines, so… Maybe he’d find my fruit-print PJs endearing.
The stubborn red wine stain on my left thigh might not buy into that, though. It wasn’t evenmystain. I didn’t even like red wine. That was all Megan.
I slowly opened the door a few inches and peered through the gap. A woman who looked to be in her seventies was standing on the steps outside in hot pink dungarees. Her yellow wellington boots clashed glaringly with the dungarees, but she didn’t look as though she cared.
There was also a goat.
On a leash.
I looked past her to the black and white goat who was happily munching on some flowers in the flowerbed.
“Vincent! Get off my marigolds!” The old woman tapped him with the handle of the leash, an action he thoroughly ignored as he continued chomping down. “Oh, to hell with you, you stupid thing. I don’t know why I take you for walkies.”
“Might I ask why you take a goat for walkies?” I asked quietly, watching Vincent.
The woman turned to look at me, and a huge smile broke out across her adorable face. She looked a little bit like The Queen—she had the same bright smile that reached her eyes, the kind that generally warmed your heart whenever you saw it.
“Whywouldn’tyou take a goat for walkies?” she replied with a twinkle in her eye. “You’re Ellie, yes? You write those naughty books.”
“I write romance,” I said slowly. “Calling them naughty books degrades them. It’s just as valid a genre as any other, if not more valid given the revenue it generates.”
“Oh, my dear, I didn’t mean it in a derogatory way. I rather like them. In fact, I eat romance novels for breakfast.” She giggled in such a girlish way that I knew she had a young heart.
I mean, she was walking a goat on a leash.
Come on.
“I just like calling them naughty books because it drives my grandson crazy. He thinks I’m too old to read about two people bonking, but it’s not like I’m getting any myself, so here we go. Oh, Vincent! No! Not the clematis!” She yanked the rope leash, and the goat finally stopped munching on the plants. “Anything but my clematis!”
There was a scattering of claws behind me, and I moved like a ninja, snatching Winston up before he could make a break for it past my ankles.
“You’re going to have to do better than that, arsehole,” I muttered, cradling him against my chest.
He trilled unhappily.
The older woman’s face lit up when she saw him. “Oh, that’s right, you have a cat! And I haven’t even introduced myself. Oh, dear. I knew I shouldn’t have brought Vincent. He’s just a distraction.”
My lips twitched into a smile. I liked her.
