today.”
Walker looked at Ryland and then back at Fenella. “I was
thinking we could try Pierre with your cat again. They’ll have
to get along eventually, right? I talked to Soledad this morning and she thought it was a good idea. To try it, that is.”
Fenella crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Soledad
didn’t check with me.”
“Well, see, I called her at work only half an hour ago.”
Walker cleared his throat. “My boss gave me a few hours off,
and she said you were here, so I thought I’d come on over.
Uh. But I see this is too much of a surprise. Still, the thing
is, Pierre’s fenced in the backyard feeling glad to be at home,
and your cat is safely in the house.” He glanced again at Ryland, who was still visibly bristling. “Could I take you to
lunch? There’s a place on Moody Street that has sandwiches
and ice cream.” He met Fenella’s gaze.
That look, that unmistakable look, was back on his face.
Perhaps there was nothing wrong with how she was dressed
after all.
But Ryland’s voice was caustic in Fenella’s head. We do
not have time for this lovesick dog in man form. Still less
do we have time for the actual dog. Fenella, look this idiot
straight in the eye. Say no. Then tell him to take the dog
away.
Fenella’s gaze fastened itself on the square of bare skin
at the base of Walker’s throat, which was located above the
round collar of his shirt. She watched the smooth way his
Adam’s apple moved up and down.
Say it, Fenella. Turn him down. The quick cut is the best,
and most merciful too.
Fenella looked into Walker’s eyes. “My cat’s still settling
in.”
“Yes, but we could try it.”
“I don’t want to take the risk.”
Good! Now, dismiss him. Say, “Go away and take the dog
with you.” Then turn your back and walk upstairs. He won’t
follow.
Fenella knew Ryland was right. She said to Walker, “I
don’t want lunch. What I want is to learn to drive your
truck.”
She didn’t know which noise came next: Ryland’s infuriated snort, or Walker’s laugh.
When Walker laughed, his skin crinkled up around his
brown eyes. “Okay. Put on some shoes and we’ll go. Listen, a small truck like mine isn’t much different from a car.
It’s not like a big rig. You’ll be able to drive it easily. Wait.
You’ve driven a manual transmission before? Or have you
only driven an automatic?”
Fenella gave a noncommittal smile. She had read about
manual and automatic transmissions in the book about how
things worked. Of course, she had never driven a car, period,
but that only meant she didn’t have any bad habits to unlearn. “I’ll be right back,” she said.
She ran upstairs, Ryland beside her, his paws thudding softly
on the stairs, his voice yelling in her head. Once they were
safely in her bedroom, she whirled on him and whispered, “I
know what I’m doing.”
No, you don’t. What’s going on? How can you drive that
truck?
“I just want to. I’m sure I can do it. I read the book. I
watch when others drive.” Fenella fished her bra out of the
bureau and yanked it into place. “It doesn’t look difficult.”
It’s complicated. Even I only know how to drive an automatic.
“You can drive?” Fenella stopped what she was doing for
a moment to stare. “How did that happen?”
The cat scowled. When I was on my mission last year. I
was in human form. It was when my sister was messing up.
Don’t ask.
Fenella shrugged. She finished dressing and then tied
sneakers on her feet. Before leaving, she engaged in one last
staring contest with the cat.
Fine. Go. The cat’s eyes narrowed.
“I am.” She hurtled down the stairs. She was going to
drive the truck!
“Have you driven a manual before?” Walker asked her
again.
“No, but I understand the principle involved.” Fenella
walked confidently to the driver’s side of the truck.
Since that first day with Walker, Fenella had ridden in
other vehicles. Most of the family shared a car, and Leo had
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