Page 25 of Dining for Love

He nods, then gingerly hands the fuzzball to me with a sigh.

I nestle her in one arm, refusing to think about how she was just in Reid’s arms and now she’s in mine and so it’s sort of like we just hugged but not really, and retreat into my house. “Good night, Reid.”

He quirks a smile. “It’s four in the afternoon.”

I shut the door in his face.

“I’ll be sure to be inside for your daily porch-sitting session!” he calls brightly.

The kitten issues a loud yowl.

I hang my head. I am, officially, an idiot.

Chapter 9

Reid

IFINISH THE morning’s exercises for my shoulder—which is all but one hundred percent healed—then go through my pre-run stretches. I open the door ready to roll, and nearly trample Willa Dean Dash.

“Good lord, Willa!” I reel back from the doorway even as I do my customary scan of the street, and she takes a few paces backward. Together, we put about five feet between us, and immediately I hate it. I want to be closer to her.

“Kitten,” she says, holding the little thing up and toward me.

“Running,” I respond in kind, gesturing at my shoes.

“I’ve got to go to work, Reid. It’s your turn. She’s eaten and gone to the bathroom. You should be good.” She stands with the kitten outstretched, three paws and one bandaged leg hanging in the air, little belly pooching out, blue eyes blinking as though I’m supposed to know what to do with her.

Guess I’m in charge of a kitten.

I step closer and clock how Willa stiffens a little.There she is, my little skittish beauty.I lower my voice. “Willa.”

She flushes. “Here.”

I barely get another step in before she’s shoving the kitten at me and backing away again. I laugh and take the fluff ball, cuddling it against my chest with one hand. “Do I stink? Is that why you’re staying so far away?”

Her cheeks grow even brighter as she shoves her hands into her khaki pants. “No,” she mutters, then looks away. “I’ve gotta go.”

I watch her flee and wish, for what seems like the millionth time, that she’d stop running away from me. Because I’d love to recreate that kiss.

But apparently, I have a kitten to deal with.

I sort out a little space for her in my living room, then ask her nicely to please behave while I head out on a run.

An hour later, I roll into the station with Midnight. Because that’s what I’m calling her, and if Willa doesn’t like it, she can come up with something. But I can’t have a pet and her not have a name.

Not that she’smypet.

But still.

“Oh my word, is that a kitten?” Betty squeals, standing up from the desk and rounding it toward me. “With a bandaged leg? Oh my goodness, you poor thing,” she coos, taking Midnight from me without even bothering to meet my eyes.

Well, that’s one way to do it.

Betty holds the fuzzy hellion up and stares at her. “Oh, you’re such a sweet little baby, aren’t you?” She glances at me. “How did you come to be in possession of this preciousness?”

“Long story.”

Ted Thompson struts up, thumbs hooked onto his utility belt and looking far more self-important than the situation calls for. The man raises my hackles, and I can’t tell you why. But I don’t like him. I can’t quite tell yet if other people get the same vibe as me, but I don’t know. Call it my sixth sense as a police officer. Either way, I am not fond of him.

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