It was the last bag of kitten food on the shelf and it was marked reserved. "Looks like it's got your name on it!" Randi cackled. "Literally!"

I grinned at her pun. The bag did indeed have my name on it. Or rather, the name of my nine week old kitten. 'Reserved for Ginger Riley,' was written across the front in black Sharpie. "Thanks, Randi," I said. "You're a life saver."

"She's eating well?" The owner of Fur Real Pet Store was covered in cat hair the way any good pet lover should be, and she was very interested in Ginger's appetite. "My last litter of fosters took a while to get used to dry food."

"No she never stops eating," I sighed. "It helps fuel her mayhem."

"That's why we love them," Randi said, handing me my card back. "They help make life interesting."

"That's for sure," I agreed, hefting the bag off the counter. "Take care now. I'll probably be seeing you really soon!"

"Stay warm!" she called. "And make sure you shut the door all the way? Wind gets it and it goes flying open."

I nodded and braced myself before heading back out to my car. The damp threat of snow was hanging heavy in the air. Winter was coming on fast. Luckily there was a bag of yarn in my car, just waiting to be turned into a warm, cozy hat.

I was headed to my monthly knitting club, a ritual I held as sacred as a church service. The fact that I had to get cat food meant I was running late now, and that wouldn't do at all.

I threw the door open, and then caught it before the wind sent it slamming into the building. I lifted my knitted scarf up around my mouth and hurried, head down, to where I'd parked my car on the street a few doors down. I was rushing right past the Crown Tavern when the door of the bar swung open.

"Ruby?"

The wind was still whipping around me but I suddenly felt very warm for some reason. "Jonah," I said. "I thought you'd be gone by now."

It was a pretty bitchy thing to say, I'll be the first to admit. But it was the truth. Claire had told me he was leaving right after the funeral and here it was days later.

He walked towards me, a little stiff legged. Something about the glaze of his eyes and the set of his mouth made me wonder if he was drunk. At one-thirty in the afternoon. "Did you want me gone?" he asked, somehow managing to sound both arrogant and wounded at the same time.

I shrugged like it made no difference to me, but inside I was burning up with curiosity. Why was he staying? How long was he staying? And what happened? I couldn't imagine it was out of missing his family. He and his brothers had been fighting for years.

Jonah wrinkled his nose like he could read my thoughts. "Well I hate to disappoint you, but I'm not."

"Why not?" I blurted.

For a second a keen pleasure burned in his eyes. Like he was happy to have my attention. Claire always said he was a spotlight hog growing up and his behavior after the breakup of the King Brothers only proved it further.

But then his eyes dulled and his mouth turned down. He spoke like the words got stuck in his throat. "Change in management."

"Yeah?" That was interesting. The reason Gabe hated Jonah so much had something to do with management.

He nodded, looking me right in the eye. "He fired me."

I hoped like hell he couldn't see how funny that was to me. "Really? He fired you? He can do that?"

The corner of his mouth tugged up. "Apparently? I didn't know either."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Still trying to figure that out."

I looked at him again. Whether it was his connection to Gideon, or something wholly his own, I couldn't deny that there was some kind of connection with him. I felt like I could read hi, see past all the shiny rock and roll bullshit to the real guy lurking underneath. There was a story here and I was dying to hear it.

And he was dying to tell it too. I could tell by the keen gleam that shone in his eyes again. It was the same kind of gleam my kindergartners got when you got down to their level and listened to the story they were bursting to tell. I shifted the bag of cat litter in my arms. I was going to be terribly late for my knitting club meeting. "No, really, why'd he do it?"

He blinked. He wasn't expecting me to pry and that pleased me for some reason. "What?"

I lifted my chin. "I can see it all over your face. You're dying to bitch about what happened, so go ahead. But can I set this down in my car, first?"