Page 38 of Just Add Mistletoe

Lori laughed. She wanted to hug him, but would that be crossing a line? Besides, she was holding a cat. What was the protocol here?

Malcom took care of her debate though. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Good night, Lori.”

MALCOM RARELY REMEMBERED HIS DREAMS, but he woke up in the middle of sprinting after his brother. Bronson had been running through the trees that bordered the condo complex. He awoke, feeling bothered that his brother had outrun him, even if it was only a dream. Bronson golfed, yes, and hiked, but Malcom knew that if there were ever a race between them, he’d win, hands down.

He gazed up at the ceiling. The sun wasn’t even up yet, but he could tell by the pale gray of the room that dawn was on its way. His mind traced back over everything from the past couple of days—the revelation from Brandy, his short conversation with Bronson, his time spent with Lori, the kitten . . .

He reached for his phone, and sure enough, there was a text from Lori. She’d sent a list of pet items about twenty minutes ago. Seemed like she hadn’t slept much.

Did you sleep?he texted back.

Some,she replied.Tiger got the zoomies around 3:00 a.m. and I’ve been awake since.

He could only guess what that meant.If you need a cat-sitter for a couple of hours, I can come grab him. It’s still early enough for you to go back asleep.His phone confirmed it was close to six a.m.

Thanks for the offer, but I’m already in the shop, getting things ready.

Malcom stared at her words. Maybe he could take the morning off? He switched over to his calendar to check on thesupply delivery schedule. There would be three deliveries this morning alone. He had to oversee them.

I could grab you breakfast when I’m getting the cat supplies. Let me know what sounds good.

Anything sounds good.

He smiled at that, then wrote,See you soon.Or whenever the grocery store opened. A quick Google search told him the grocery store opened at six a.m., so that was good news. He climbed out of bed and took a quick shower. He’d run another day. Right now, Lori needed him.

As he drove out of the parking lot in his truck, he wondered how he’d become so invested in the woman across the street. They were friends—new friends—yet he hadn’t ever delivered breakfast to a woman at the crack of dawn. Or bought cat food and cat litter.

Once he reached the grocery store, he stood for several long moments in the pet food aisle. Who knew there were so many choices of cat food and cat litter? How picky was Lori? He texted her photos of the options, hoping she’d be able to reply soon. A couple of minutes later, she told him what to buy, then he loaded everything into the cart and stopped at the deli. He’d bought breakfast here a few times.

He grabbed a couple of burritos that were filled with scrambled eggs, veggies, and bacon, then he picked up a small orange juice too. He didn’t know exactly what she liked, but she’d eaten what he’d brought out on a plate at that barbecue, so she didn’t seem too picky.

When he parked in front of her shop, the sun was up, and the clouds looked light and innocent in the sky. Maybe the rain would hold off for the day.

He knocked on the shop’s door, not sure if it was open. Moments later, Lori appeared. She opened the door and smiled at him. “You’re here.”

Malcom smiled back. Lori wasn’t wearing any Halloween earrings—too early still? She wore a black sweatshirt with orange lettering that saidBoo!and black leggings. Her dark hair was braided and hanging over one shoulder.

“I’m here. Hungry?”

“Starving,” she said, motioning for him to come inside.

He handed her the sack instead. “I’ll grab the cat stuff from my truck. Do you want it upstairs?”

“Sure,” she said without hesitation.

He hurried to the truck and hefted the bags, then followed her through the store and up a set of stairs.

“I don’t think he’s litter trained,” Lori said as she opened the door. “He used the newspaper only once, and the rest of the time, he found a different place.”

“Is it hard to litter train?” Malcom asked.

“Not usually.”

He stepped into an apartment that he could have guessed was hers even if he hadn’t been told. He tried not to stare, but that was nearly impossible.

On the opposite wall, three bookshelves stood side by side, crammed with books and decorative items. A small couch—more of a love seat—was draped with an orange-and-black afghan. The other half of the room was a kitchen, and a decorative witch’s hat posed as the table’s centerpiece.

Beyond the front room, a hallway likely led to the bedroom.

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