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Shaking his head, he disappeared into the kitchen.
My cat was going to die, never mind vegetables.
I was going to kill the little shit.
“Aren’t you mad Winston escaped?” I asked when Max reappeared.
“I’m not going to lie, Ellie.” He gently put the peas on my foot, making sure my toes were covered, and peered over at me. “I was surprised he was still inside.”
“I put his flea drops on this morning. He’s not talking to me.”
“Ah, no arguments today?”
“I think he was all argued out when I was doing his drops. I usually recruit my brother to help me, but alas… Kev isn’t here.” I shifted. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll go and find him.”
Max waved his hand and perched on the arm of the sofa. “What’s the point? He’ll come back, won’t he? Or I’ll find him in the goat barn when I put them in tonight.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ELLIE
Change of Heart
Imade a face as I looked at him.
Who was this? And what had the aliens done with the grumpy old man Max I was used to?
“You’ve changed your tune,” I said, shocked.
“That cat is faster than a fucking Ferrari. No wonder you can’t keep him in.” He glanced towards the door. “It’s surprising, given his size.”
“He’s actually not overweight,” I muttered. “Believe it or not. He’s normal sized for a Maine Coon.”
“Christ, then what do the overweight ones look like? Bloody lions?”
I bobbed my head. “Pretty much. There are dogs on my street smaller than my cat. There’s a woman a few houses down with a chihuahua that’s scared of him.”
Max raised his eyebrows. “A chihuahua is scared of Winston? That’s pretty impressive. Aren’t they the most fearless little bastards in the dog world?”
“Yeah, but Winston is a little shit, so it’s about even.” I leant forwards and moved the peas. There was no bruising… yet. I was going to take that as a good sign. The last time I’d broken my toe was two years ago and it’d bruised almost immediately.
I didn’t have the patience for a broken toe.
“You might have gotten away with that,” Max said, peering over my shoulder. “Doesn’t look to be bruising. You’re lucky.”
“Makes a change,” I muttered, setting the peas on the sofa next to me. “I’ll give it a few more minutes before I decide for certain.”
His head bobbed with a gentle nod, then he paused, leaning towards my laptop. “Is that The Sims?”
Uh-oh.
I licked my lips. “It’s therapeutic.”
He adjusted the screen and frowned. “Is that… me?”
“Sir, you have a terrible habit of looking at things that are none of your business on my laptop.” I scooped it up from the table and set it on my lap once again. “But as it happens, yes. That is you.”
“Why do you have a sim of me?”
