Chapter Fourteen

Sissy couldn’t believe how packed the Cauldron was for dinner. It was standing room only again. Glancing around as she rushed between the kitchen and the tables, she juggled ideas along with dishes. When she remodeled, she’d need to add benches at each side of the door so people could sit to wait for a table. As she shoved potatoes into the oven to bake and snatched two steaks off the grill to deliver to a couple celebrating an engagement, she tried to think what it was that had started to draw so many people in. She had experienced a few sparse months when she first reopened the café, but after she learned not to scorch all the food, business picked up fast. Never quite to this degree, though.

During a brief respite, Sissy gazed out the pass-through window, trying to determine what she was doing differently. Nothing, so far as she could tell. It was as if the Cauldron had become a community gathering place where everyone wanted to eat because they knew good food and great company awaited them here.

Raised in Mystic Creek, Ben knew nearly everyone, and he enhanced the feeling of camaraderie. He moved from table to table, sometimes even taking a seat. He emanated sincerity and warmth. He made people laugh or grow serious over a topic of conversation. After he moved on, those individuals turned to chat with people who sat nearby.

Sissy heard a timer buzz and raced back into the kitchen to take three racks of hot lasagna from the main oven. It smelled wonderful, so she knew that much of her newfound success was due to her cooking. But the rest of it was because the café had become an informal gathering place.

While cleaning the service side of the front counter, Sissy chatted sporadically with Blackie as she worked. She tensed when he asked, “Did you hear about the break- in at the vet clinic last night?”

Sissy hadn’t heard about it; she’d committed the crime. So she wasn’t really lying when she replied, “No, I haven’t heard about that from anyone.”

“Well, someone got in. Jack forgot to set the security system and says he may have left the back door unlocked. The cops are saying that the perpetrator could have used a credit card to jimmy the lock. What’s really weird is, the only thing stolen was a kitten that had its front feet amputated. Who’d steal a kitten? Hell, you can get one for a few bucks at the no-kill shelter, and it’d have all four feet.”

Ma Thomas, who owned a perfume-and-soap shop on East Main, sat one stool over from Blackie. She had more silver in her short hair now than natural blond. Her smile always made Sissy feel warm. “Well, I heard the real story. I can’t say who told me, but the owners of that kitten decided to have it put down just because it lost its front feet! Jack tried to tell them the kitten would adjust and could live a long and happy life, but they—they’re new in town, last name Miller—wouldn’t listen.”

Blackie sobered. “They were just bent on killing it, no matter what?”

Ma nodded. “Somebody even offered to adopt it and give it a wonderful home, and they still wouldn’t let it live.”

“Huh.” Blackie polished off his chocolate cake with an enormous last bite. Cheek bulging, he said, “So it wasn’t really a theft. Somebody rescued the kitten.”

“That’s what I was told,” Ma replied. “And I have it on good authority. The way I see it, the woman who stole that kitten deserves a medal.” She winked at Sissy. “I’d collect money to have one made for her if it wouldn’t get her in trouble.”

Sissy’s stomach dropped. She shot a frantic look in Ben’s direction, but he was busy chatting with Christopher. At the edge of Sissy’s mind, she was startled to see that the old man had come in so late, undoubtedly to enjoy socializing. But mostly all she could think was People know. Sissy felt a little dizzy as the realization sank home. Gossip traveled fast in Mystic Creek. If Ma Thomas knew who’d taken the kitten, it wouldn’t be long before everyone in town did.

“In trouble?” Blackie echoed Ma and slapped his palm on the bar. “If our county sheriff objects to a kitten rescue and some woman does get in trouble, I say we organize a protest! We’ll march to the sheriff’s department and make our voices heard.” He swiveled on his barstool. “Ben!” he roared. “Come here!”

Sissy, heading to Christopher’s booth to deliver his order, met Ben halfway across the room. “I’m screwed,” she whispered as they passed each other.

The volume in the restaurant dropped. People watched Ben. He grinned broadly at Blackie. “You look fit to be tied. Did somebody eat all Sissy’s chocolate cake?”

Blackie slapped his hand on the counter again. “Hell, no, she always saves me a piece. You heard about that kitten that got stolen from the vet clinic last night?”

Sissy had just returned to the counter. Judging by Ben’s expression, he felt the same way Sissy had when she was asked that question. “Um—I heard something about it today on the radio.” He flicked a questioning look at Sissy. “What’s up? Did they figure out who did it?”

“What’s up? I’ll tell you what’s up,” Ma interjected. “Our sheriff dusted the whole joint for fingerprints and is hot on the trail of whoever stole that kitten.”

“What a waste of our tax dollars!” Blackie complained. “All over a kitten the owners decided to have put down because its front feet were amputated! So some woman decided to rescue the kitten and broke into the clinic to steal it. Now, ain’t that the crime of our new century? Heinous! Punishable by God only knows how much jail time. Lots more important than murders and stuff.”

Ben lifted an eyebrow. “I think the last homicide here was about seventy-five years ago.”

Blackie snorted. “It’s still foolishness if you ask me. Does your brother Barney know about this?”

Ben frowned. “I don’t really know, Blackie. We haven’t spoken today.”

“Well, I’ll be the first to tell him I hope he’s not involved in that stupid investigation. Trying to locate and arrest a kitten rescuer is a waste of everybody’s time and tax dollars.”

*   *   *

It seemed to Sissy that her diners would never leave, but a few minutes before nine o’clock people paid their tabs, collected their coats, and began walking out. When everyone but Ben was gone, Sissy locked the front door and turned her sign to read CLOSED.

“There went going to see a movie,” she cried as she turned to face him. “I couldn’t focus on the screen. We are so screwed! Who could have known it was me? What if I go to jail?”

Ben closed the distance between them and drew her into his arms. Sissy had been held tightly by men, but never had the sensation made her feel safe. “Sweetheart, you won’t go to jail. If anyone gets arrested, it’ll be me, the idiot who did it.”

Sissy pressed closer to him, needing to feel his strength. “You aren’t an idiot. You’re wonderful. And it was my idea, not yours.” She glanced up. “Where’s Finn?”

“I sneaked him upstairs to your apartment so he could hang out with Patches.”

“I hope nobody saw him pass through the café.”

“I don’t think so, but note to self: When you remodel, we need to create a walled-off area at the bottom of the stairs so you don’t have to worry about people seeing Patches if he comes downstairs to go outside.”

Just then a loud knock came at the front door. Sissy hadn’t yet turned off the street-side lighting or dimmed the interior ceiling fixtures. Ben dropped his arms from around her. Sissy sprang away from him. They both turned to see who was standing outside the glass door.

“Well, shit,” Ben said. “It’s Barney.”

Sissy knew Ben’s brother. The deputy didn’t come in to the Cauldron as often since he’d gotten married and started a family, but he still dropped in occasionally. “You know why he’s here,” she said, her voice shaking. She pictured herself getting cuffed and stuffed. “Oh, God, Ben, what should I do?”

“Well,” Ben said, “I think you should start by opening the door.”

Sissy hurried over to do just that, only her voice crackled as if it came from a radio with airwave static. “Hi, B-Barney. Wh-what a surprise.”

Barney stepped inside and closed the door. “Hi, Sissy.” He removed his dark brown Stetson and inclined his head at his brother. “Ben.”

“Hey, Barney,” Ben replied. “What brings you in? The coffee’s still fresh, and Sissy makes fabulous chocolate cake.”

Barney, dressed in uniform, strode to the counter, found a clean spot to place his hat, and said, “I’m not here to eat, and you know it.” He turned to look at his brother. “What the hell were you thinking? Breaking and entering is a class-C felony, burglary in the second degree, potentially punishable by up to one hundred and twenty-five thousand in fines and five years in prison!”

Sissy grabbed hold of the bar to steady herself. Ben hadn’t stolen the kitten for himself. She couldn’t allow him to take the blame. “It was me, not Ben. I did it!”

Barney, whose eyes were the same gold-flecked hazel as Ben’s, gave her a long look. “I know you were probably with him.”

Ben folded his arms and shifted his weight to one foot, looking far too relaxed for a man who was about to be arrested. “Come on, bro, get on with it and stop with the lecture. If you were here to throw me in the slammer, you’d be hanging your head and apologizing.”

Barney’s badge flashed on his khaki shirt as he lifted his hands, palms up. “The phones are ringing off the hook at the department. Half the populace of Mystic Creek is up in arms about Sissy getting into trouble for rescuing a damned kitten!”

Anger surged through Sissy. “Patches is not a damned kitten. He’s a sweet, darling kitten who deserves to have a life! And how on earth did anyone find out it was me that entered the clinic to rescue him?”

“A clinic receptionist blabbed,” Barney replied. “She’d gone back to use the ladies’ room and overheard you and Jack talking. She told only one person, and in strictest confidence, but her friend blabbed to someone, and so it went.”

“And in Mystic Creek, word travels faster than the speed of light,” Ben finished for him.

Barney nodded. “Now Jack’s in trouble, you guys are in trouble, and Sheriff Adams is in a jam as well. The law is the law. He should arrest both of you and cite Jack Palmer for overstepping his bounds as a vet. But the people in this town—the voters who’ll reelect Adams as sheriff—don’t feel that a crime has been committed, and they aren’t going to vote for any jackass, including me, who throws two heroic kitten rescuers into jail and files charges against Jack for aiding and abetting.”

Ben spread his feet. “I’m sorry for causing a political shit storm. I just couldn’t let the owners kill the kitten for no good reason.”

Barney thumped his chest. “I’m the one who brought most of the stray animals home when we were kids, not you! When did you suddenly become the softie?”

Ben huffed. “I rescued just as many critters as you did. You off duty?”

Barney nodded.

Ben glanced at Sissy. “Can you open a bottle of wine, Sissy? My treat.”

Barney groaned. “I’m not having a drink with you. No matter what people in town think, you committed a crime.”

Ben strode over and swung a leg over a barstool. Sissy circled the counter. “You want mulberry?” she asked. “I picked up a few bottles. My customers love it.”

“Sure,” Ben agreed. “Maybe some magic will rub off on Barney and make him forget his tough-cop image.”

Barney took a stool beside his brother. “I don’t have a tough-cop image. And having a glass of wine will not negate the fact that you’ve caused a lot of serious trouble for me, my boss, and the only vet we’ve got in town.”

Sissy poured three glasses of wine, passed two to the men, and kept one for herself. She wasn’t quite so nervous now, but she was still on edge. She glanced at her watch. Patches and Finn had been alone in her flat for hours.

She excused herself and ran upstairs to check on her furry friends. Finn needed to go outside and pee. Patches rubbed against her ankles, begging to be picked up. “Well,” she told the animals, “in for a penny, in for a pound. Let’s all go downstairs.”

As Sissy descended the stairs with Patches in her arms and Finn taking two steps at a time in front of her, she wondered what Barney might say. Probably something about conforming to the health codes. The law is the law.

But when Barney glanced toward the stairs and saw them, he said, “Aw, come on! Have a heart, Sissy. Don’t show me that kitten.”

“Show him the kitten,” Ben said. “He’ll melt into his boots.”

Sissy led Finn through the storage area and let him outside for a whiz festival. When the pup returned, she made her way back to her place behind the counter, where her mulberry wine awaited her. Barney stared hard at Patches, snuggled in the crook of Sissy’s arm. She saw his gaze drop to the kitten’s pink stubs.

“Son of a bitch.” He took a gulp of wine. “Can the poor thing even walk?”

Ben answered. “He can not only walk; he can romp and play with Finn. It’s really something to see.”

“So why did his owners insist on putting him down?”

Ben tasted his wine. “I’m sure they felt they were doing the right thing, but in truth, they weren’t. Jack tried to tell them the kitten would adjust, but they firmly believed they were making the kinder choice for him.”

Barney sighed. “It would have been sad if Jack had euthanized him.” He angled a glare at Ben. “That isn’t to say you did the right thing. You committed a B and E. You catnapped that kitten!”

Ben shrugged. “Guilty as charged. And if you arrest me, no hard feelings. Do the crime, do the time.” He met his brother’s gaze. “But just between you and me and a fence post, if you’d known about this kitten, wouldn’t you have been tempted to swipe him to save his life?”

Barney shot him a glare over the rim of his wineglass. “Unfair question.”

“I’ll take that as an affirmative.”

Barney tipped his head back and flexed his shoulders. “You can take it however you want, but I would have figured out how to do it legally. You could have called an animal rights group.”

“We didn’t have time. It’s a great idea, but we had only a matter of hours.”

Finishing his wine with three gulps, Barney swung off the barstool and went to collect his hat. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you saved him. I just don’t approve of how you went about it.”

“So what’s going to happen?” Ben asked. “Are Sissy and I going to be arrested?”

“Sheriff Adams went to see the owners of the kitten this evening. I wasn’t there to hear what he said, but I think he warned them that they need to keep their heads down and their mouths shut about the kitten if they hope to have any friends in town. Jack called the department and told Adams that he deliberately left the clinic door unlocked for you, so technically you entered the clinic by his invitation.”

“I never expected Jack to take the heat for this,” Ben mused aloud.

“The only way he’ll get in trouble is if the kitten’s owners file a complaint against him. And I don’t think they’ll do that, not unless they want to be run out of town on a rail. People are riled up. Last I heard, Blackie and Ma Thomas were planning a protest march and they got so many volunteers that they had to hold their first meeting at Dizzy’s Roundtable. Half the town could gather there.”

Ben chuckled. “And of course you knew all this when you came in here to chew my ass.”

Barney grinned. “Somebody’s got to keep you in line. I still can’t believe you sneaked into that building and stole a cat.” He drew open the door, paused, and glanced over his shoulder. “Wish I could’ve been there, but future sheriffs miss out on all the fun stuff. Next time be a hell of a lot more careful. You left one print. We didn’t run it for a match, but it was too large to be Sissy’s.”

“People come and go in the back of that clinic all the time. How can you possibly figure the fingerprint is mine?”

“Well, now,” Barney said, tapping his temple. “There were no fingerprints on the kitten’s cage, none on the door handles or on the doors themselves. So someone wiped all those surfaces down. But he missed that one telltale print.”

“Shit,” Ben said. Then his eyes narrowed on his brother. “Wait a minute. Maybe I missed one print, but that doesn’t mean I missed one of my own. It could be Jack’s, or a kennel keeper’s.”

Barney grinned. “Had you going for a minute, though, didn’t I? It works on most perps, and I’ll tell you why. They’re dumb as buckets of rocks.”

“Are you implying that I’m dumb?” Ben asked, but his brother had already walked out.

*   *   *

Sissy and Ben worked together in the kitchen to clean up and then do breakfast prep. Then, both too exhausted to go anywhere, they took their pets upstairs. This time Sissy sat cross-legged on the carpet to watch the pup and kitten play. Ben decided that the sofa had lost its appeal without her on it, so he joined her.

“How soon will you hire help?” he asked. “I’m looking forward to that movie—and other outings. Maybe a stroll along Mystic Creek so we can fall madly in love.”

She fixed those guileless blue eyes on him. He saw pain in those depths. “I thought we already had.”

Ben’s heart caught. Was she really that insecure? “Sweetheart, I was just joking about the legend of Mystic Creek.”

“Are you sure? If you don’t love me, tell me now.”

“Sissy, it was a joke. Of course I love you. I’ve never told another woman that, and I mean it from the bottom of my heart.”

She relaxed and resumed watching the animals romp. Ben wished she would open up. Something had made her feel horribly insecure, and he wanted to know what it had been. He guessed she’d tell him about her past when she felt ready. Until then, he had to be patient. Instinct told him that pushing would get him nowhere and might cost him the ground he’d gained.

“So, tell me about your remodeling plans.”

She smiled dreamily. “I want quality plank flooring, reclaimed barnwood if I can afford it. And new booths with a rustic look. I hate those chrome-and-Formica things I have now. They’re so sixties. And I’m thinking about some faux overhead beams as well. It’s an old building. I think rich wood wainscoting will look fabulous. You may not have noticed, but a large percentage of my clientele is older. I’d like to draw in the younger set as well.”

“You need more seating,” Ben observed. “Most people come in alone or in pairs.”

They discussed ideas on how to maximize the dining area space.

She turned her gaze on him. “You’re very observant. I didn’t realize you were thinking about my renovations.”

“Well, sure, I have. It’s hard not to notice when your café is packed that the people still waiting could be seated if you changed the booths and tables to accommodate two instead of four.”

“And my café is approved by the fire marshal to hold more people already, so creating more seating would work great.”

“And if we wall off at the bottom of the stairs, you could even put in a gas log fireplace there.”

She scrunched her shoulders and then relaxed them with a sigh. “Oh, a fire would be perfect, especially on snowy winter evenings. It’d make the whole place seem cozy.” She nodded. “We’ve come up with some great ideas!”

Ben got the fishing-pole toy out and dangled the feathers in front of Patches. The kitten leaped for them and so did Finn. Ben jerked the bait right out from under their noses. Both he and Sissy laughed as the game continued. It was a nice way to end the day.

Knowing how early Sissy had to get up, Ben decided not to overstay his welcome. “Well,” he said, pushing to his feet, “I think it’s about time for me to go home and hit the sack.”

She nodded, her expression revealing regret. Ben wished she would invite him to stay longer, maybe even for the night. With other women, that was the norm. With Sissy, it wasn’t. She hadn’t even asked him to kiss her yet.

*   *   *

Sissy walked downstairs with Ben and Finnegan. She told herself it was only because she needed to lock up after them, but she had other reasons as well. Ben had promised her that he wouldn’t kiss her until she asked him to, and though the thought jangled her nerves, she wanted to do that tonight.

When they reached the back door, Ben paused and turned to look at her. She could tell by the tender expression in his eyes that he yearned to take her into his arms.

Gathering all her courage, Sissy said, “Ben, will you kiss me? Not on the forehead. A real kiss this time.”

He’d put his hat back on. With the bent knuckle of a forefinger, he nudged up the brim. “I’ve been thinking about that, and I’ve concluded it might be better if you kiss me.”

That was the last thing she had been expecting. “Me, kiss you?” Her knees started to quiver. “No, no, that won’t work.”

“Why not? It doesn’t matter who takes the initiative, just as long as it happens.”

Sissy couldn’t think what to say. She settled for “I don’t think I’ll be very good at it. I, um, don’t know how.”

Ben looked stunned. “Pardon me?”

“I don’t know how,” she repeated. Heat rose up her neck and pooled like fire in her cheeks. “I, um—it’s a long story.”

His dimple flashed in his lean cheek. “How can that be possible? You’re twenty-six. Young, smart, and beautiful. Dozens of guys must have kissed you.”

“Not dozens,” she forced herself to say. “Only a few, and they were—well, so rough and forceful that I was so busy trying to get away that I didn’t learn much about kissing.”

Sissy knew that she’d just opened a door, inviting Ben to ask questions she wasn’t ready to answer. But instead he clenched his teeth, treating her to a spectacular display of rippling jaw muscle, which told her the information she’d just revealed made him angry. But almost before she registered that, his expression went tender again. He murmured something she couldn’t quite catch, and then, ever so gently, he trailed his fingertip over her features, tracing the arch of her brows, the bridge of her nose, and the bow of her upper lip. His touch made her feel beautiful and cherished.

“Sweetheart, kissing is sort of like dancing. All you have to do is follow my lead.”

“I’ve never danced, either, remember. Not with a partner, anyway. I’d probably mash all your toes.”

His lips quirked in a quelled smile. “You’re not heavy enough to mash my toes.”

Then he bent his head, his gaze holding hers. Sissy didn’t know what to expect. Ben feathered his lips over hers, the touch so gentle and airy—and so tantalizing—that she found herself leaning her head farther back to experience more of the same.

And he delivered. His kisses were as light as the flutter of a butterfly wing.

When he finally withdrew, her heart was pounding and her breathing had gone shallow. That’s it? she wondered. He’d never even put his arms around her. He winked at her and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.

“Good night, Sissy,” he said in a gravelly voice. “Have sweet dreams.”

The next instant, the door closed behind him. She listened to the rhythmic thumps of his boots as he descended the porch steps. Then she heard him call out to Finn. Trembling with aftershocks from the sensations he’d sent spiraling through her, Sissy locked the door behind him and leaned against it because she felt weak in the legs. Then a dreamy smile curved her lips. She had never been kissed like that! And, oh, wow, she hoped he’d do it again, only maybe with a little more pressure next time.

*   *   *

Hands knotted over the steering wheel, Ben drove home with his teeth clenched with such force that his molars ached. Sissy had never learned how to kiss because she had always been too busy trying to escape. What kind of jerks treated a woman like that? Thinking about it made Ben wish he could take those guys apart. Now he understood her former aloofness. His brother Barney had pegged her right. She’d had some really lousy experiences.

Once parked by his house, Ben cut the engine of his truck. Finn, who couldn’t see much scenery during a drive at night, bolted upright from his snooze. Clearly the pup was waiting for Ben to exit the vehicle as usual to take a quick stroll around the ranch proper to check on the animals, Finn’s favorite part of getting home. But Ben needed a moment to just stare out the windshield at nothing and breathe slowly. It wasn’t often that he felt this angry.

Slowly, his heart settled into a normal rhythm, his jaws stopped throbbing, and he was able to flex his fingers until his urge to make fists ebbed away. Sissy. He already missed her, and with only a limited knowledge of what she must have been through, he felt his affection for her deepen.

“I love her, Finn. She’s everything I ever wanted: sweet, pretty, honest, caring, and responsible. But what if I make a wrong move with her and mess this up?”

Finn tilted his head, peered at Ben, and then let loose with a growl-bark noise that he’d never made before. Feeling as if his skin might turn inside out, Ben opened the driver’s-side door, leaped to the ground, and called to his dog.

“Yes, Finnegan, we’ll take a walk. God knows I need to burn off these feelings somehow.”

*   *   *

The next night Ben returned to the café just before closing time to help Sissy do after-dinner cleanup and prep. Afterward he turned to Sissy and said, “Let’s go next door to the Straw Hat for dinner and then take in a movie. Patches and Finn will enjoy playing while we do the same.”

She fiddled with her hair. “I look a fright.”

“You look fabulous. Come on. Just say yes.”

She smiled and nodded. Within minutes they were sitting in a booth at José’s, keeping him open later than usual, but he didn’t seem to mind. “What a rare treat to see you here, Sissy,” he marveled aloud. “Normally, you order takeout and I walk it next door.”

“I’m playing hooky,” she replied with a dimpled grin. “And afterward we’re walking over to the Mystic Players Theatre. They have a late movie playing. We don’t care what it is.”

José laughed. “I hear it’s an oldie but a goodie. Most films last only ninety minutes. You should still get a fair night’s sleep.”

Both Ben and Sissy ordered enchiladas with green sauce, filled with minced chicken, cheese, and rice. While they waited for their meals, they gazed at each other over flickering candlelight. It reminded Sissy of her imagined dinner with him at his house, and she smiled. She no longer felt threatened by the thought of her and Ben being an item. Sparking, as Christopher had called it. She’d told Ben she loved him, and she’d meant it. She just hoped he would still love her after she told him the sordid details of her life and parents.

“What?” he asked, as if he read in her expression that something was troubling her.

Sissy refused to lie to him. “I’m just thinking of all that I need to tell you. You have no idea where I come from.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re here.”

It did matter, but Sissy didn’t want to spoil the evening by worrying about it. After enjoying their meal, they walked to the town center and took the cobbled path that circled the city park. It was a crisp night, but when Ben took hold of Sissy’s hand, his touch chased away the chill. When they reached the natural bridge, an amazing archway of stone created by the creek tunneling through it for hundreds of years, Ben let go of her hand to lock his arm around her shoulders. From across the stream, lights from Peck’s Red Rooster glistened upon the churning water like gold nuggets that had rained from the starlit sky.

“Next time, I’ll take you to eat there,” Ben said, his deep voice vibrating lightly against her shoulder. “I’ll reserve a table that overlooks the stream.”

Sissy hoped there would be a next time. Just as she looked up, he lowered his gaze, and as if a powerful magnet drew her toward him, she was suddenly gently cocooned in his strong embrace. The next instant, he kissed her. Not a light, nearly nonexistent feathering of his lips over hers, but still more of an invitation than a demand. Sissy wanted to accept the offer, only she wasn’t certain how.

“Slow and easy,” he whispered against her lips. “Relax against me and let your lips go soft. I’ll take it from there.”

He felt so thick through his arms, shoulders, and chest. So deliciously warm, with the night air still nipping at her back. As she had in her dream, she stepped up onto his boots to gain enough height to place her hands on his upper arms and press her nose against his throat to intoxicate herself with the scent of him, a delightful blend of male musk, cotton, a faint scent of soap, and a tantalizing masculine cologne. Being held in his arms made parts of her she hadn’t acknowledged start to ache and then burn with need.

He ran the tip of his tongue along the seam of her closed teeth, prompting her to open for him. When she did, she moaned with pleasure. This wasn’t a slobbery and brutal rape of her mouth, but more a shy hello, with him cautiously dipping deeper for a better taste of her, and in the process, she got her first taste of him. She felt his body shudder. Drawing his lips from hers, he murmured against her cheek.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” His voice sounded different, coarser, deeper, and tighter. “If you want me to let go, just tap my arm. No need to feel trapped or try to escape.”

Sissy already knew that. Ben was different from any man she’d ever met. He resumed kissing her. Sissy wished it might never end. She had never wanted to be with a man. The experience was so new to her that she wasn’t even certain what she actually yearned for from him. She’d watched films, she understood the nuts and bolts of sexual intimacy, but she wasn’t quite certain how a couple went from heady kisses to actually doing the deed.

When he finally lifted his head, he smiled down at her. “You are incredible,” he whispered.

Sissy felt like a flower that had just opened its petals to the sun. “So are you.”

Keeping one arm loosely encircling her back, he glanced at his watch. “Well, as incredible as we both may be, we’re late for the movie.”

They decided to go regardless. Ben bought a large tub of popcorn and a soft drink for each of them. Sissy didn’t think she had room for a single bite, but she munched on the popcorn anyway. When a film scene cast relative darkness over the small theater, Ben licked the buttery salt from her lips and then dipped his tongue into her mouth. When light splashed over them, he ended the kiss.

Ben whispered, “If my folks are here, my dad will tell me to go find a room.”

Sissy giggled. “So when do you plan to take me to a room?”

He grinned at her. “When you’re ready.”

“What if I’m ready now?”

His grin broadened. “Oh, no. I’ll know when you are, and now isn’t it.”

As they walked home, Sissy asked, “What was that movie about?”

Ben, back to holding her hand, threw back his head and laughed. “It beats the hell out of me.”

*   *   *

That evening became the template for the nights that followed. Ben worked on the cat tunnels, went home to clean up, and returned to the café around a quarter after eight, smuggling Finn up the stairs to spend time with Patches in the flat. Sometimes he ordered a meal, always sitting beside Blackie at the counter to chat while he ate, and other nights, when he didn’t eat, he flirted outrageously with Sissy with only his eyes. Either way, when the last customer left, he helped Sissy in the kitchen and then he sometimes took her out for a meal or spent what was left of the evening with her upstairs, their only entertainment being kisses in between light conversational exchanges.

Their time alone together became almost as important to Ben as breathing and nearly as automatic. Every second while Ben was with Sissy, he was acutely aware of her. He loved the smell of her even when she wore no perfume. The faint lavender scent of her soap, the clean, sweet smell of her hair, the velvety softness of her skin when they accidentally touched. He wanted her so badly that he often lay awake at night, aching with need.

He struggled not to ask Sissy about her past. If he got her to talk about it maybe he’d know how to move forward without fucking things with her up. But Ben hated it when people tried to make him share personal stuff before he felt ready, and he wouldn’t do that to Sissy. She would talk about it when the moment felt right to her, and until then he could only wait and love her with all his heart.

He’d finally found that one special woman—a woman he wanted to stay with for the rest of his life. He instinctively knew that he would never grow bored with her. He’d learned during their evenings together that she was a witty conversationalist and had a quirky sense of humor. In a debate over whatever topic came up, she was quick on her feet and presented a well-conceived argument, but she never seemed resentful if he could convince her he might be right.

So, as much as he longed to lose himself in her physically, Ben found satisfaction in other ways. With each passing day, she seemed more relaxed with him. That was a good sign. She became more spontaneous and laughed more often. When she sat beside him on the floor to play with Patches and Finn, she’d sometimes lean against him, inviting him to drape an arm around her and follow up with a deep, lingering joining of their mouths. She no longer stiffened and tried to pull away when he touched her. Instead she went limp and pressed closer, comfortable with him, and sending him signals that she yearned for more.

Ben felt it was wiser to wait. He’d know when Sissy was truly ready, and when she was, he’d linger over her for hours while he made love to her. But the time wasn’t right yet. Sometimes when he caught her off guard, he saw in her eyes a bewilderment and pain he couldn’t understand. During those moments, he knew an awful memory had slipped into her mind. He wanted no unpleasant memories to come between them when he made love to her. None.

One night, Finn, who’d worked cattle all morning and afternoon, crashed on the bed Sissy had made for him beside Patches’s sleeping pad. Snoring softly, the dog was totally out of it, allowing Sissy and Ben to tussle gently with the kitten. Patches, who didn’t seem to realize he had no front feet, played as any kitten might, grabbing at a toy or their hands as if he had paws.

“He’s got mettle,” he told Sissy, lifting his arm slightly. “Look at him hug me tight. I think playing with Finn has been good for him. If he ever accidentally runs into a cat with claws, he’ll bypass all the swatting maneuvers and jump in for a bear hug. Then he’ll be able to use his teeth and his back feet to fight.”

Sissy’s eyes glowed with pleasure. “He’s so smart. His stubs are still a tiny bit tender. But the other day he slipped out the door and tried to run down the stairs in front of me. When it started to hurt, he flipped around and went down backward.”

“He’s going to grow up and be a gorgeous tomcat.”

Just then, Ben felt something crawl onto his lap. Finn was sacked out on his bed. Patches had a death grip on his wrist. Ben glanced down to see what the hell was on him—or, more precisely, on the fly of his jeans.

“Holy mother-fricking shit!” Ben shook Patches loose from his arm, shoved Snickers off his lap, and leaped to his feet. It took everything he had not to scream like a girl. “You little bastard. You bite me there, and you’re one dead rat!”

Snickers sat up and worried his hands. No, damn it, his paws, Ben reminded himself. Snickers looked up at him with bright, beady eyes, his expression inquisitive, as if to say, What’s your problem, man? I was just saying hello.

“Oh!” Sissy said softly, with that same mama tone she used with Finn and Patches. “My sweet boy.” She scooped the rat up in her hands and cuddled him close.

Ben watched, struggling not to say, Don’t let him near those gorgeous breasts. He could scar them for life.

She glanced up at Ben. “Don’t be afraid, Ben. He won’t hurt you.”

Okay, now Ben felt like a girl—and not just any girl, but a scaredy-cat girl who reacted to anything slightly alarming by shrieking, stomping her feet, and turning in circles. Sissy was probably surprised he hadn’t jumped up on the coffee table.

“I’m not afraid of him. He just startled me, is all.”

“Oh, good.” Cupping Snickers with one hand, Sissy patted the carpet beside her. “Sit back down and make friends. He is such a sweet thing.”

Ben would have preferred to have a wisdom tooth dug out of his gum without Novocain. But, damn it, a guy had to do what a guy had to do. He crossed his ankles and sat down. “If he bites me . . .”

“Oh, you big silly. Look at him! I’ve only ever seen his teeth when he was eating a blade of wheatgrass.”

“Trust me, he has teeth. And Jack says he’ll have to be quarantined for ten days if he bites. He could have rabies.”

Sissy giggled. “Does he act like he has rabies? Look at him. And you? You’re so big and strong. I can’t believe you’re afraid of a tiny guy like Snickers.”

“I am not afraid of him.” Okay, Ben thought, so I’m afraid of something. Big deal. “Let him go. I’m fine with it. Come here, Snickers.”

Ben waggled his fingers at the rat, hoping against hope that the rat would think he was waving good-bye.

Snickers did not read body language well. He scampered from Sissy’s lap and leaped onto Ben’s again. Ben stared down at the rat sitting atop the most valued part of his anatomy. The rat reared onto its haunches, worried his hands again, and wiggled his whiskers. Ben’s arms felt knotted and frozen. But he forced himself to cup his hands around one of the last creatures on earth he wanted to touch.

To his surprise, Snickers felt soft and warm. When he curled his front feet over Ben’s thumbs, it was a friendly touch, nothing about it aggressive. “Hi, little guy,” Ben said. “I forgot to plug up all your ingress holes.” Little bastard. “I’ll be sure to do that soon. You really shouldn’t be around Patches. He might catch something from you.”

“Oh, my God, you’re right.” Sissy scrambled to stand, sounding so distressed that Ben felt guilty. Well, almost. It was absolutely true that Snickers might be carrying diseases. “I need a gift for him. Something special. And then he’ll leave to go put it in his nest!”

“Scrunch up a piece of tinfoil,” Ben said. “He’ll love that.”

While Sissy rummaged in the kitchen, Ben ran his fingertips over the rat’s fur. Maybe Sissy had it right and rats weren’t so bad. Just then Finn awakened and came up off his bed as if someone had just torched his tail. Teeth bared and hackles raised, the pup lunged across the floor.

“No!” Ben said.

Finn stopped dead.

“This is Snickers,” Ben told the dog. “Friend. No!”

A hangdog expression settled on Finn’s mottled face. He sat down, curiously eyeing the rat. Ben would have urged Finn closer to touch noses and become acquainted, but Snickers was an animal that might be carrying diseases the pup wasn’t vaccinated against. The sooner Snickers left, the better. That thought was followed by inarguable fact: Snickers had already contaminated the flat with any dangerous germs he might be carrying, and neither the pup nor the kitten had gotten sick.

“Don’t let Finn hurt him!” Sissy cried.

“I won’t. It’s fine. Finn realizes now that even rats are welcome here.” Ben rolled his eyes at the dog. In a whisper, he said, “Next she’ll fall for a black widow.”

“I made it into a nice small ball for Snickers,” she called from the kitchen. “I pressed it tight. I don’t want him to eat any foil.”

“Good idea,” Ben said, smiling to himself. Snickers actually was cute. And he didn’t seem at all inclined to bite. This rat wasn’t a demon from hell. He was a little mammal with a cute face, inquisitive eyes, and a gentle nature. He was a key thief, though. It had cost Ben over a hundred dollars to replace his remote.

Sissy returned and placed the shiny ball of foil in front of Snickers on her upturned palm. “What do you think, Snickers?”

The rat grabbed the ball and leaped from Ben’s hands like a flea off a dog’s back. Then he was off. Ben turned to watch him leave. “He’s coming in and out through your bathroom.”

“Yes. But he’s entering the building somewhere downstairs. I hope, after we ratproof the place, that we can find his nest. It was good to see him again. He’s so sweet and dear.”

“Tomorrow, I need to get that done,” Ben told her. “The ratproofing, I mean. I’ve been so caught up in you that I forgot all about it.”

Ben had to admit, if only to himself, that he could now tolerate the rat. But sweet and dear was carrying it too far. He joined Sissy in the bathroom to wash their hands with antibacterial soap. As they both scrubbed, Ben fantasized about getting her into a shower and running his hands all over her soap-slick body. If success were measured by a football field’s standards, he figured he was stuck on the ten-yard line. Showering with Sissy was so far off in his future that he couldn’t even see the goalposts.

Ben forced his mind to mundane matters. He needed to put a reminder on his phone to buy mountains of fine steel wool and fill every point of ingress in Sissy’s building with the stuff. Then he needed to follow Snickers back to his nest so Sissy could go there to visit him.

“So, how’s it going with your bookkeeping program?”

Ben almost groaned at her question. “Don’t ask.”

She laughed. “Give me your bank username and password, and start bringing me all your receipts. Then I can download all your transactions. You do so many things for me, I certainly don’t mind taking over your books. I’ll just do yours when I do mine.”

“Really? I hate doing that crap.”

Sissy laughed. “I kind of enjoy it. Scan me copies of your checkbook register each month, too.”

A few minutes later, Ben decided it was time for him and his dog to head for home. “When are you going to hire some help downstairs? You won’t have to get up so early then, and we can stay later.”

“A perfect reason to get an ad in the paper as soon as I find time.”

Normally, Sissy followed Ben and Finn downstairs to lock up after them, but tonight she said, “I’m going to spray with disinfectant just in case Snickers left germs. Do you mind saying good night up here? I’ll run downstairs in a couple of minutes to lock up.”

Ben shook his head. “No, I don’t mind.”

Ben stepped in close, drew her gently into his arms, and kissed her good night. He ignored that good night felt more like hello, baby. He heard her breathing quicken and knew she was aroused. Restraining himself was one of the most difficult things he’d ever done. But even though he still didn’t know the story of Sissy’s life, he did know that the greatest gifts he could give her were time and the privilege to decide when she wanted their kisses to take them to a deeper level. She’d give him a sign when she got there.

He stepped away, touched his hat, and said, “Good night. Sleep tight.”

Once outside on Sissy’s porch, Ben took a couple of minutes to stand and breathe deeply. Sissy hadn’t been alone in growing aroused during that kiss. He felt as if his dick had turned into an ear of field corn. And, damn it, his testicles ached like a son of a bitch. He needed a woman, but it couldn’t be just any woman. His carousing days in Crystal Falls were over. He thought he heard Sissy come downstairs. Then he heard the lock click and knew for sure she had.

“Okay,” he said to his dog. “I can finally walk straight now.”

Ben set off toward his parked truck. He’d just unlocked the doors with his remote when a shrill scream came from Sissy’s building. Before Ben could turn around, the scream came again. Fear such as he’d never felt in his life slammed into him.

Sissy. Something horrible had happened. As he ran he could only pray that he could bulldoze his way through the back door.