Page 29 of Bait and Switch
Gabe frowned. “Excuse me, what are you talking about?”
“Did the ice cream come with one of those flat wooden things that are supposed to pass for a spoon?”
“Uh, no? But I could probably whittle you one if that’s what you need.”
“Whittle me one, that’s funny. Let me change out of these clothes. I’ll be right back.”
Gabe was so stunned by Casey’s response that he didn’t ask if he needed any help choosing an outfit. A wasted opportunity, there. Although this was progress, so he’d take it. Who knew it would take murder for Ranger Man to lighten up?
Gabe shoved the ice cream into his tiny freezer so it wouldn’t soften any further, although he probably could have stuck it outside, it was cold enough.
“So, what have you got?”Casey said thirty minutes later.
Gabriel didn’t answer right away, he just stared. Changing clothes had turned out to mean taking a shower. Casey’s auburn hair was artfully mussed, and he’d slipped into a pair of Levi’s worn thin enough that there were probably laws about wearing them in public spaces. The black-and-white striped sweater he now wore molded to his shoulders and chest and was made with alpaca yarn or some other soft textile.
He had to physically stop himself from reaching out and petting Casey’s chest. It was the sweater. Anyone would want to touch that.
“Charming!”
Gabe blinked. “Uh, right. What have I got. Er, have a seat. Where’s Bowie?”
“He’s sniffing around topside, he’ll be down in a minute.”
“That’s right. A cat or something—god, I hope it was a cat—ran in through the gate earlier.” He was having trouble focusing his thoughts on something that wasn’t howgoodLundin looked.
Come on, Chance, you’re on the wrong side of forty, you shouldn’t have this problem. Breathe.
There was just room enough for Casey to squeeze in at the end of the table, but barely. Whatever shower gel he used, Gabe was going to have to buy his own bottle just so he could sniff it.
Good god, Chance, you always were sniffing people.
So he liked good smells, not a crime.
There was another thump from above.
“Bowie, that’s enough. Get down here.”
A few seconds passed and then they heard Bowie clacking down the breezeway. Gabe moved to slide the door open. And stared. The running dog was preceded by a soggy cat who was running even faster. The cat paused, its gaze flicking around the room before it darted past Gabe and into the stateroom.
For the shortest of seconds, Gabe was too stunned to react.
“Dammit,” he sputtered, coming to life and chasing after it.
“Let me,” rumbled Casey, squeezing—again, how did the huge man live on a boat?—past Gabe and into the spartan bedroom. “Bowie, sit-stay.”
Reluctantly, the dog did as he was commanded and Gabe kind of wondered if he should too.
“Hand me a towel, will you. I’ve had my eye on this beast for a few months, but she’s been wily. I think she was abandonedby someone who moved off the island. If I figure out who it is, they’re getting a shit-o-gram.”
Wordlessly, Gabe leaned into the head, grabbed the towel hanging on the doorknob, and handed it to Casey. He watched while Casey knelt down on the wood floor and morphed into the cat whisperer. Within a minute, the cat was wrapped up in Gabe’s towel and cradled in Casey’s arms.
“I understand, cat, I understand,” Gabe murmured.
Was the beast purring now?
Casey rose to his feet, keeping his head bowed so he didn’t knock it against the ceiling.
“We’ll get you warmed up, sweetheart.”
