Page 24 of Catnapped

I find myself wondering what she’s thinking, wondering what May would say. Funny, I’ve never concerned myself with pets or anything remotely sentimental. May is the opposite. She loveswith her whole heart, works to keep a shelter afloat even though she can’t bear to visit it. I hate that she feels guilty about it. She shouldn’t.

The city is almost quiet from my penthouse, but everything is still bright despite the late hour. The skyscrapers are lit in holiday colors. Funny, I’ve never thought much about the holidays, about spending time with loved ones, not that I have any. It’s just always been work for me. Doing the job, rescuing the hostages, tracking down the bad guys. But here with May, my mind is adrift in an ocean of thoughts about the two of us. What a life with her might be like. Is this what people mean when they talk about getting hit with a lightning bolt when they meet the right person?

A horn honks somewhere far below. Wind buffets against the glass windows, and I glance down the hall, hoping the sound doesn’t wake my May. Nothing moves, and even Mousey has gone back to sleep, her breathing deep and even.

Easing into one of the side chairs, I pull out my phone and click over to Squirrel’s messages. Looks like he’s found more information for us.

Squirrel: Narrowed down possible matches on the tag number. Most likely stolen plates. Snatched off a Mercedes parked in front of a pet store about a mile from LaGuardia.

Me: Video?

Squirrel: Old school CC system. No access online. I’m checking local businesses now. Will let you know if I spot something.

I sit back and sigh. Something about all of this strikes me as strange–and not just because I have a cat psychic in my bed. I’ve also accepted that the case isn’t about a person. But what keepsfeeling all wrong about it is the lengths the thief has gone to just to get their target. To go to such effort and not even demand ransom? It doesn’t smell right, especially when it’s clear Mrs. Farrol is loaded and would spend any amount of money to get her cat back. So what’s the payday? Why take a cat and ask for nothing in return? What’s the end game?

“Hey?” May’s voice floats down the hall.

I jump up. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” She has a blanket around her. “I woke up and you were gone.”

“Sorry.” I hurry to her and pull her into my arms. She’s warm and soft, her scent mixing with mine. “Just checking on the license plate.”

“Oh.” She nuzzles against my chest, her eyes closed.

“Come on.” I take her back to bed, sliding between the sheets with her.

When she presses her cheek to my chest, she lets out a little sigh. “Better.”

I feel better, too. Just being near her is oddly soothing.

“For a second, I thought you’d ditched me, but then I remembered I’m at your place.” Her voice is dreamy, already fading back to sleep.

“I’ll never ditch you. Not going to happen.”

“Never?” she asks.

“Never.” I can guarantee that. The only way she’s getting rid of me is if she orders me away. Even then, I don’t know if I couldtrust myself to actually maintain distance. It’s like I’ve turned into a lovesick puppy in the space of a day. Or maybe a kitten?

Her breathing evens out again, and she’s asleep. Curled up beside me, her body warm against mine. I close my eyes, too, giving myself over to the sensation of contentment. Of a feeling I’ve never known but suspect may be something a lot like love.

“What’s that amazing smell?” She walks into the kitchen, her hair back up in a messy bun. There’s a kitten playing with a ball of yarn on her T-shirt, the neckline cut so that one of her bare shoulders is on display.

I stare. I want a replay of last night. I want to taste her, to feel her, to watch her ride me.

“Carson?” she asks.

I blink. “Sorry. It’s um …”

She sits down at the island, and Mousey hops up beside her.

“French toast.” I finally get the words out. Turning back to the stove, I force myself to focus on the food. The last thing I want to do is burn her breakfast.

“You can cook?” she asks.

“I learned early.”

“Oh.” She makes ahmmsound. “I told you all about me last night, but you didn’t tell me anything about you. I should’ve asked. I guess I got a little distracted.”

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