Page 28 of Dining for Love

For the record, it was going to be a suggestion that we try kissing again and see what happens.

“I’ll return the cat in the morning,” she says.

“Wait!”

She turns, an eyebrow raised.

“Seriously. You need her things.” I hustle to my house to grab the large amount of supplies I bought at the pet store, then bring it back, ignoring the palpable sense of relief flooding my system at the fact that she actually waited on me.

Willa eyes the bag warily. “What is all that?”

“Pet supplies…from the pet supply place.” I bite back a laugh. “You know, things that pets need. Food, toys, a litter box, that sort of thing.”

She sniffs. “Matty gave all that to us yesterday.”

“He did, but litter boxes and litter have gotten way fancier than the basic stuff he unloaded yesterday,” I counter. I may have done some reading. Okay, a lot of reading. Midnight deserves the best, and if I’m being honest, I don’t want my house to smell like cat pee and poo. So there’s that. And if I’m getting the stuff for my house, it’s only fair that I get it for Willa’s too.

She sighs and holds her hand out, and I step forward. “I could bring it inside, you know.”

An entire range of emotions fly over her face: surprise, desire, confusion, resignation. Finally, she shakes her head. “No. Thank you.”

I fight the disappointment and nod, waiting until she’s insidethe house before retreating to my backyard and picking my guitar up.

And wouldn’t you know it? I miss that furry terror all night.

Chapter 10

Willa

THREE DAYS. THREE days of being a kitten co-parent and I am entirely over it.

Because Midnight prefers Reid over me.

And I might be jealous about it.

Is it stupid? Yes. Am I being petty? Also, yes. But the way she purrs when she gets into his hands, loudly and far too contentedly for her own good, is a bit much.

But I’d be purring if Reid’s hands were all over me, too. I get it.

I work a shorter shift than usual so that Goldie and I can go to the fair that’s swung into town. She pulled off a classic kid move with our parents, wheedling and whining and dropping hints for at least a week leading up to today. She acted all surprised when Mom and Dad shoved us out the door after the lunch crowd, but I’d been fully prepared.

After a quick shower and stern instructions from Goldie to once again wear the shorts from the art walk and “a cute top, so help me God,” my sister picked me up, and we headed to the fair. It’s stifling hot outside, but even the temperature doesn’t do a thing to ruin it for me.

I inhale deeply as we pay for our tickets and enter. Scents of fried deliciousness and sounds of happy kids come at me from all directions. “I love the fair.”

Goldie threads her arm through mine. “Me, too. You remember the first time Mom and Dad let us come by ourselves?”

I snort a laugh, the memory appearing immediately. “When Bobby Sharma tried to kiss you on the roller coaster and you puked? How could I not?”

She cackles. “Served Bobby right. First of all, he didn’t ask permission, and second, we were on a freaking roller coaster!”

That was the last time I rode a roller coaster at the fair. I’d been lucky enough to be three rows ahead of her, so I didn’t get splattered or anything gross like that, but it still ruined me for those particular kinds of rides. Besides, after realizing how often they get taken down and put back up again, and understanding that it’s done over and over by mere humans who might be having a bad day or might be distracted when they do it…no thank you. If it’s my life on the line, I’ll stick to the rides with the least risk of death involved.

“I need funnel cake, stat,” Goldie declares after we stop laughing our butts off.

So funnel cake it is. We wait in a small line, and when we get the cake, it’s hot from the fryer, the powdered sugar sticking to our fingers as we eat it. Honestly, is there anything better?

I sigh happily, licking my fingers before diving for another bite, tearing off a piece, and dipping in the extra sugar piled everywhere on the paper plate. “This is the best, Goldie.”

---