9. Reid
Chapter 9
Reid
I FINISH 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’s my pet.
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 .
“Can’t have animals in the station,” he states flatly.
Betty turns to glare at him. “Ted Thompson, you hush your mouth. It’s a kitten, not some gorilla on the loose.”
He looks affronted. “There are rules…”
“And if we had a police dog?” I interrupt, unwilling to let his douchery continue.
“Well, that’s…that’s different,” he sputters.
“Is it, though?”
His ruddy complexion gets even more maroon. “No animals.” He turns and leaves, and Betty rolls her eyes at his departure.
“I think he needs a hug,” she says.
“He needs more than that,” I mutter, keeping my voice low.
Betty laughs. “You’re probably right. I’ve got an idea. Take this sweet thing, and I’ll be right back.”
I cradle Midnight against me, and moments later, Betty returns with some kind of super-long fabric.
“It’s a baby sling,” she declares.
“A what now?”
She gestures me toward her, then proceeds to wrap the fabric around me and secure it with a plastic loop thing that I’d not noticed before. Then she holds it open, a little pouch magically appearing in the front, and I nestle Midnight in there.
“Well, if that’s not the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Betty coos again.
“What the hell is going on?” Chief Mac asks as he walks in. “Are you wearing a baby?”
“She’s a kitten,” I correct. “Not a baby.”
“Thank God. You’ve not been here long enough to cause that kind of trouble,” Chief smiles. He reaches in and pets the kitten’s head. “Cute little thing.”
Midnight blinks up at me and meows, then kicks a purr into gear so loud that Chief and Betty can hear her.
Chief chuckles. “Guess you’re taking her on duty?”
After only a moment’s hesitation, I nod. “Pretty sure I’ll fit right in.” Nothing else about me in this town is normal, so why not take the next ridiculous step? I can’t fathom my chief in Miami being okay with me waltzing around with a kitten strapped to my chest.
“I was gonna tell you that you were on your own today since Ox is needed for something else, but it looks like you’ve got a partner after all.”
Betty giggles with delight. “Officer MacKinnon, you’re gonna turn all the heads.”
Ted grumbles from behind his desk but says nothing. I may have only been here two weeks, but even I know better than to cross the Chief and Betty. And the both of them have clearly given me the green light to police while cat-wearing.
My buddies in Miami would have a field day with this. Good thing they won’t see me.
Of course, the whole idea of not being seen goes down the tubes when I amble into the town square. I’m swarmed by tourists, most of whom are older ladies ogling me and using the kitten as an excuse, but some are indeed there for the cat. A couple of people ask to pose near the infamous clock tower since it’s got the town’s name on top of it. And while part of me wonders if it’s a good idea posing with Midnight for random photos with tourists, I can’t imagine that it’s a big deal. As cutthroat as the Bunnies are, there’s no point in them worrying about anything this far north, even if it is on the coast. Nothing I learned about them in my years working undercover would lead me to believe they’d bother with a town this tiny.
My stomach growls just as I near the Dash In Diner, and Midnight pokes her head out with interest, her little whiskers quivering as she scans the front of the building.
“You wanna see your mom, little one?” I ask.
I swing open the door and am not three steps in before Goldie is cooing and darting toward me.
“Oh my gosh, is that the kitten? Aw, look at her,” she says, leaning in and reaching to give her scratches. She barely spares me a glance before turning her attention back to the kitten. “I heard all about this little one and how Matty conned the two of you into co-parenting.” She laughs. “You two never had a chance. Once Matty decides on a pet pairing, it’s over.”
“A pet pairing?” It’s hard not to smile. “Well, Midnight here has enjoyed her stroll about town. She’s already famous with some of the other store owners, so don’t be heartbroken if one of them decides they want her.”
Goldie gasps. “You would never!” Then she leans back to Midnight. “Don’t listen to him. You’re stuck with us, you adorable little floof. Auntie Goldie will make sure of it.”
By the time I find my way to the counter, I’ve stopped to say hello to several locals I’m starting to recognize, and one that I definitely know.
“JJ,” I intone as the man raises his camera to snap a picture.
JJ smiles happily at the digital screen, not even bothering to make eye contact now that he’s gotten what he came for. “Hey, Officer.”
I step closer, putting my hand on the camera and lowering it to force JJ to look at me. He blinks, his eyes wide and, dare I hope, a little scared. I lean in and drop my voice. “I’d really like it if you’d ease up on the ‘new officer in town’ bit. Everybody knows I’m here.”
He nods, his throat bobbing. “Sure. It’s just, you see, news,” he says, his voice wavering. Then he gestures at Midnight. “Gotta give the town what they want, you know.”
I scowl. “No, I don’t know. How is this newsworthy?”
He’s saved from answering when Barbara bustles over and slaps a menu on the counter. “Officer MacKinnon,” she gushes.
“Just Reid,” I say.
“Nonsense,” she waves me off. “What are you going to order that doesn’t match what’s on the menu today?”
I glance at the window behind her just in time to make eye contact with Willa. She’s not glaring, and she’s not flushed, so we might be making progress.
Although, if I’m being honest, riling her up is one of my favorite things to do. And I don’t care how I do it: Irritate her, fluster her with a well-placed wink, or even better, kiss her senseless.
Have I mentioned how much I’d really, really like to do that again?
Midnight issues a meow to rival all meows, her tiny little kitten body flexing with the effort. I look down at her. “She’s in the kitchen, girl. Can’t do anything about her just yet.”
I swear, the cat almost huffs.
Same, little floof. Same.
I lift a tiny paw out of the sling and wave it at Willa, who barely represses a smile before turning away to focus on the grill.
I’m waiting for Willa when she comes home later that afternoon. I call her name the second she’s in my sight, and damned if that woman doesn’t pretend to ignore me, again , and head straight for her house.
I jump up from my chair and grab Midnight from where she’s been exploring at my feet. Little girl has the heart of a lion until she sees a grasshopper. Then it’s game over.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” I jog up to Willa and lean against the doorframe, the very picture off relaxed.
She heaves a sigh. “Can’t I at least?—”
“No, you can’t go inside and get naked.” I deliberately choose the words most guaranteed to make her blush.
Sure enough, she delivers, the color rising prettily on her cheeks as she gapes at me. “Seriously?”
I smirk and hold the kitten out. “Midnight is yours now.”
“I heard that’s the name you gave her. Who said you got to do that?”
I shrug. “No one. And you don’t have to call her that, but when she’s with me, that’s her name. ”
As anticipated, the edict riles her even more. She growls and stomps her feet, and I adore it. She’s so cute when she’s flustered. “Fine. Give me…Midnight.”
My smile is broad as she gently takes the cat from me. “So,” I start.
“Absolutely not,” she answers, not remotely interested in what I was about to say.
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 inside the house before retreating to my backyard and picking my guitar up.
And wouldn’t you know it? I miss that furry terror all night.