Page 17 of Faking It with the Firefighter

“Of course!” Sophie said. “You can see any that you’d like. As long as you see Winston too. I have a feeling about you two. He’s a sweetheart, just like you.” She beamed at me.

“We must have different definitions of ‘sweetheart,’” I noted.

Sophie unlocked the black cat’s cage and handed the creature to me. The cat curled up against my chest, and I petted its soft, soft fur. When I scritched it behind the ears, there was a soft rumble of a purr.

Yeah, I could get used to this.

The cat stretched and flicked its tail into my nose. I snorted and reared back, and the cat startled. It jumped from my arms with a yowl and took off, scrabbling around the room as the other cats joined in the screaming.

Sophie—short, curvy Sophie, who was sweet as pie and always smiling—moved faster than I’d ever seen her. She pounced on the cat and caught it, then gave it a cuddle that immediately calmed the creature down.

I cringed. “Whoops.”

Sophie rolled her eyes with a fond smile and deposited the black cat back in its cage. “Lady is a little skittish. I’m not sure she’s the one for you. She needs someone who moves slow and has a calming voice, I think.”

Like Rex. I peered into another cage, where a ginger cat batted at the air. “So which one is Winston?”

Sophie locked up Lady, who eyed me like I was the devil, then walked to the other side of the room and pointed at a cage. The moment she did, a black paw with white markings reached between the bars, clawing the air. Winston yowled so loud my eyebrows shot up. But could I blame him? I wasn’t a fan of being trapped behind bars either.

Sophie cooed at him. “He’s feisty. Just like you.”

Uh-huh. I approached with measured steps, not quite ready tocommit. “Let’s get him out of there,” I said, reaching the cage and meeting the cat face-to-face. Our gazes locked. His eyes were slightly green with rounder, black irises. Black covered his ears, nose, and mouth with a fluffy white chest, whiskers, and chin. I felt my eyes go goo-goo again, and just as I was about to let out another coo, Winston pressed his head against the cage and hissed.

“Ahh!” I jumped back, heart pounding and adrenaline pumping.

“Winston!” Sophie reprimanded him. She planted her hands on her hips, which would be intimidating if she didn’t give off strong Ms. Frizzle vibes at all times. Then she looked at me. “Don’t mind him. He’ll warm up to you.”

“No, I think he’s pretty much vetoed me,” I replied, then glared at him with my hand on my hip. I leaned closer. “You know, Winston, the feeling’s mutual.”

“No, Abigail. Trust me. You two will hit it off. I’ll take you to the adoption room and bring him out. I can bring Nemo out as well,” she said, nodding to the ginger who had gone stock still and was staring at me like he’d never seen a human before.

I narrowed my eyes. “Sophie. Cat scratches don’t really go with my outfit.”

She rolled her eyes and walked off. “You’ll be fine.”

I looked at Charlie, who simply shrugged. “She’s the expert.”

“Um,” I said. “I don’t know about Nemo. I’m getting serial killer vibes from him.”

“That’s because he’s a very good hunter,” Sophie agreed.

“Maybe that other black one?” I pointed to one next toLady, who was curled up in the back corner of her cage, ignoring us.

Sophie brought us to an enclosed space with cat trees and benches. We took a seat while my friend ran back to pick up the cats. I braced myself.

“Here they are!” Sophie sang as she walked into the room with a cat curled in each arm moments later. “You’ve met Winston.” If that’s what she wanted to call our stand-off. “And this is Pearl.”

“Pearl? For a black cat?”

“Matt, one of the high school volunteers, named her. He likes to be ironic.”

“How Alanis Morissette of him,” I said as she placed the two cats on the ground. Winston sprang up like a bat out of hell and landed on the top pedestal of the cat tree. He’d warm up to me, huh? Not a chance. So despite Sophie’s attempts to play matchmaker, I put all my attention on the black Pearl. “Hi there,” I said softly, offering my hand for a sniff.

She took the bait, and I felt her cool little nose press against my skin. She walked around me, sniffing my ankles and letting her tail slide over my calves. “You think she likes me?” I asked.

“Of course. What’s not to like?” Sophie asked.

My expression flattened. Oh, just a dash of recklessness and an inability to do anything right? But who was keeping track, other than my ex-husband, brother, and perpetually disappointed parents?

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