Page 41 of Wish You Were Mine

“Mm.” He didn’t believe that version of events either.

I bit my lip. “Ash…I’ve got a weird feeling about this.”

He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “How so?”

Put on the spot, I shrugged. “I don’t know. It just makes me nervous.”

For a few seconds, he looked thoughtful, but then his expression shut down.

“I’m sure it’s random,” he said. “Kennedy doesn’t have a cat. She probably didn’t think to keep an eye out to make sure Cookie didn’t slip outside.”

“Maybe you’re right.” I hoped he was, but something about the situation just didn’t sit well with me.

20

ASHER

I strode through the house, rattling the cat food tin.

“Cookie,” I called. “Here kitty kitty kitty.”

There was no response. I paused and listened carefully for the sound of running feet, or a plaintive meow, but everything was silent. She hadn’t been on my chest when I’d woken, and I hadn’t seen or heard her since.

I took the tin to the bedroom, shaking it while I circled the bed, double checking that she wasn’t pushed up against the side. Sometimes she liked to curl up in the strangest places. Dropping to my knees, I looked under the bed, but she wasn’t there either.

“Cookie.” I clucked my tongue, which usually brought her out of hiding because she knew it meant I had either treats or cuddles for her. “Come here you silly cat. I need to go to work.”

I couldn’t leave without seeing her first or I’d spend all day worrying. I backtracked to the kitchen and took her catnip treats from the pantry. With them in hand, I retraced my steps through the house, stopping in the bedroom, the spare room, and the gym.

I stuck my head into the bathroom and froze. Cookie’s shivering form was huddled in the dirty laundry basket. Her eyes were closed, and she didn’t seem to notice me.

“Cookie,” I said, racing to the basket.

I set the food on the ground and stroked her. She didn’t react, and her entire body continued to tremble. I lifted her up, and she was limp in my arms.

Fuck. Something was wrong with her.

“It’s okay,” I crooned, turning her over in my arms to check her underside in case she’d been hurt. Her black belly was furry and unharmed, but she still hadn’t opened her eyes, and usually she’d at least be making a fuss about me manhandling her.

I maneuvered her around so I could check the time on my watch. Damn, the veterinary clinic wouldn’t be open yet.

I carried Cookie out to the living room and gently set her down on the sofa, then I took my phone from my pocket and called Summer. The phone nearly rang out before she answered.

“Hello?” Her tone was laced with sleep, and desire lanced through me.

Inappropriate.

“Hey, Summer. It’s Ash. There’s something wrong with Cookie.” I stroked my fluffy baby, looking for signs of change, but she was still shivering and unaware of me.

“What are her symptoms?” She sounded more alert now, and rustling noises came through the line, as if she were getting out of bed. I mentally ordered myself not to dwell on that image.

“She’s shivering and unconscious. Even when I picked her up, she didn’t respond.”

My gut tightened. Nothing could happen to Cookie. She was literally my substitute child. I’d adopted her when Mum started harassing me about giving her grandchildren a couple of years ago. In the absence of a wife or girlfriend, it had seemed the best I could do.

“Bring her to the clinic.” Summer spoke briskly, her brain fully awake now. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Relief flooded through me. Whatever tension there had been between Summer and I lately, she was a damn good vet, and I knew she’d help Cookie.

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