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“I am. Do you know how many times the guy in the romance novel with dastardly good looks turns out to be, well, dastardly?”
“No, I don’t read romance novels, Dewey.”
“Well, then take it from someone who does. It’s like one hundred percent of the time.”
“Two orders of breadsticks or one?” Paige asked.
“Two, obviously. Look, just listen to me on this. The dude is dangerous. Especially since you lose all sense of sanity around him.”
Paige screwed up her face and shot him a glance as she clicked the Place Order button. “What?”
“Oh, Devon, hi!” Dewey mimicked, batting his eyelashes. “You may as well wear a sign that says, ‘I think you’re hot. Kiss me.’”
Dewey rolled his eyes at her.
“You’re goofy. I do not act like that around Devon. And even if I did, just because he has dashing good looks doesn’t mean he’s dangerous. This isn’t some cheap novel, Dewey. It’s real life.”
Dewey raised an eyebrow at her when a furry feline darted into the room, leaping onto the stool and then the breakfast bar in rapid succession.
Dewey flitted into the air, darting away from it.
“Hi, Dicky,” Paige said with a grin as she shoved her laptop to the side and stroked his fur. “Dewey, meet Dickens. Dickens, my new partner, Dewey.”
The cat stalked back and forth as Paige petted him before he leapt onto the counter and studied Dewey, who hovered in the kitchen. Dickens plastered his ears back and hissed at the flying dragon.
“Be nice, Dickens. He’s a friend.”
The feline issued a low growl as Paige skirted the bar and grabbed his dish from the dish drainer. She popped the top on a can of fishy food and emptied it into the bowl. The cat concentrated on his dish rather than the dragon.
Dewey wrinkled his nose, his horns wiggling. “I don’t think he likes me.”
“I told you, Dickens doesn’t like anyone,” Paige said as she stroked the cat’s fur while he ate the pate she’d dumped into his bowl.
“Can I touch him?” Dewey questioned.
“Sure,” Paige said.
Dewey flitted closer, tentatively reaching a hand out to the furry feline. He rubbed one scaly finger down the cat’s back. Dickens twisted to face him, his eyes narrowed.
Dewey’s eyes went wide, and he zoomed away and hovered in the living room.
“What’s wrong with you?” Paige asked as she shuttled a bag of candy to the coffee table and picked up the remote.
“Sorry,” Dewey said. “Never saw a cat before.”
Paige snapped her gaze at the dragon who darted around the space.
“So, this is the old homestead, huh?” He glanced out the window before he flicked his gaze around the room.
“Yep.”
“Nice view of the sunset,” Dewey noted as the dark red ball painted the neighboring buildings a deep shade of crimson.
He settled onto the couch, propping his head up on his hands as his elbows sank onto the back cushions.
Paige smiled over at him as his tail wagged lazily back and forth while he followed the descending sun. She clicked around on her streaming app, finding her trilogy collection of Blade and queuing the first movie.
She wandered back to the kitchen, cleaned the cat’s bowl, and rustled through the bags to find the Cheetos. She tossed them on the coffee table before she readied the popcorn bucket for popping.
