“I called her before I did you.”
Of course, he did.
“We’re looking forward to meeting her future husband.”
Her mom said something in the background, but Jordan couldn’t make it out.
“I’ll ask her, Carol,” her dad said to her mother. “Mom wants to know if you’re dating anyone.”
All the insecurities from her childhood crept out from beneath the rock where she kept them hidden. “S-sure I am.”
“Invite him to join us,” her father said.
Oops. “I think he’s already got plans,” Jordan told him.
“This is a special occasion, Jordan. If your sister and her fiance can make it, so can your boyfriend. We won’t take no for an answer.”
She racked her brain for an excuse to get her imaginary boyfriend off the hook.
Harry came into the kitchen and refilled his water glass.
Which gave Jordan an idea. With Harry standing at the sink with his back to her, Jordan seized the opportunity to check out his rear view, which was almost as great as his front. “Um, I’ll do my best.”
“Make sure you do,” her dad said. “I’ll text you the details. We’ll see you in a few hours.”
She disconnected and stuck her phone in the pocket of her pajama pants. Her mouth was dry as sand as she turned on the coffee maker.
“You okay?” Harry drained his water glass.
“Fine.” She tried for a smile. “That was my dad. He and Mom are coming up from Miami today on their way to my aunt’s house in Tennessee.”
“That’s nice.”
No, it wasn’t. Had they purposely chosen not to give her any notice of their visit? Rubbing her temples to ward off the first pangs of a headache, she sighed.
“You don’t want to see them?” Harry asked.
“I do. I love my family.” She sank onto a kitchen chair. “It’s just that being with them usually feels like a test; as if they’re waiting for me to say something wrong, or to mess up somehow.”
Harry joined her at the table. “Is there anything I can do?”
God, she hated to ask him to pretend to be her boyfriend. He’d already done so much for her. “Well…”
“What?”
“Dad asked if I’d bring…a date.” She got up to fetch a cup of coffee. “Want one?” she asked Harry.
“Okay.” He got the cream out of the fridge and set it on the table. “So what’s the problem?”
“I said that I have a boyfriend. I don’t know why it matters to me what they think. Mallory’s engaged to this wonderful guy.” She huffed. “Would you pretend to be my date?”
Frowning, Harry took one of the mugs from her. “I can’t do that.”
Her mood clunked. Had their make-out session been nothing more than killing time for him? “Um…okay.”
He closed the distance between them. “I don’t want to pretend. I’ll be your real date.”
The knots in her gut relaxed. And as she looked into Harry’s eyes, the flame of her desire reignited. “Yeah?”
He took her hand. “I’d be honored.”
“Thank you.”Lifting on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “And my answer is yes, too. I’d be happy to have a conversation with your cat.”
Rolling his eyes, he said, “Wow.”
“What?” she asked.
“Just unpacking that sentence. You’ll have a conversation with my cat. Twenty-four hours ago I thought…” His lips flattened to a thin line.
“That I was crazy?” she supplied.
His silence confirmed it.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I get it.”
“What time is lunch?”
She checked her phone and found a long text from her father. “Noon,” she told Harry. “My sister suggested Mummy’s. Have you been there?”
He nodded. “Sure. Good hamburgers and their pies are out of this world.”
“Definitely.” And the service at Mummy’s was usually fast. Less time for her parents to ask too many probing questions about her ‘boyfriend,’ or the solvency of her business. But she had no time to waste. “I still have to walk a couple of dogs this morning. I’d better get myself together.” She started from the room.
“Can I meet you at the diner?” Harry asked. “I’ve still got to pick up a glass pane at the DIY Depot, and I’d like to stop at my house after to change my clothes.”
“Yeah, that’ll work.”
“Hey,” Harry called to her.
Stopping, she turned to face him. “Hmm?”
He crooked his finger at her and grinned.
Heat washed over her as she neared him.
Harry drew her against him for a passionate kiss. Then he stroked his fingers over her jaw. “That’s better.”
It sure was.
Jordan showered and dressed. She couldn’t keep her thoughts off of Harry, replaying their kisses in her mind’s eye. Each memory brought a flutter to her heart. She’d chosen her favorite jeans with Harry in mind—because they looked good on her, and her Pampered Pets T-shirt for her parents—so they’d know she was doing her best to build her business.
Before she left, she found Harry and indulged in one more kiss.
With an appreciative whistle, he trailed his eyes over her body. “Nice jeans.”
“Thanks.” She slung her handbag over her shoulder. “Mummy’s Diner at noon.”
“I’ll be there.”
As she drove to her first client’s house, she couldn’t keep the smile off of her face. Even the prospect of walking one of her least favorite dogs couldn’t ruin her mood. Charlemagne, the normally-morose beagle whose owner was a high-powered lawyer who worked long days, did his business in record time.
Jordan let him back inside the house and unhooked his leash. “Thank you, Charlemagne. You deserve a reward for that.”
The dog wagged his tail. Give me one of the treats you carry, he told Jordan. I don’t like the ones my human buys.
“Deal.”
After she’d finished taking care of the Peppermans’ two Siamese cats, she got in her car and checked her hair in the rearview mirror. She’d be a few minutes early for lunch if she left now, which might impress her folks a little since Mallory was the more punctual twin. But that was in the past. Jordan desperately wanted to show them the new and improved version of herself.
She parked at the restaurant, glancing around for Harry’s truck, which she didn’t see. Standing near the doorway to the diner, she glimpsed Mallory and Cyrus with her parents. No wonder Jordan never managed to make it anywhere before they did.
No, she wouldn’t fall into that old patterns of feeling as if she could never do anything right. She was doing so much better—or at least, she was trying. Checking her lip-gloss and her hair once more, she drew a deep breath then headed over to the entrance.
“There she is!” Her mother split the distance between them and pulled Jordan into a hug.
Jordan inhaled the familiar scent of her mom’s vanilla perfume. “Hi, Mom.”
“Let me look at you.” Holding Jordan at arm’s length, she gave her the once-over. “You’re too skinny, sweetheart.”
Her dad nodded his agreement. “And you’re pale. A little sunshine never hurt anyone.”
Jordan’s heart fell. They hadn’t even noticed her T-shirt.
Mallory—the picture of perfection in a sunny yellow dress—greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. “You look fine,” her twin whispered in her ear. “Don’t let them get to you.”
Easy for Mal to say, but Jordan appreciated her sister’s comment. “Thanks.”
Cyrus hung back and smiled at her, probably still irritated with her over the kitchen fire.
“Where’s this boyfriend of yours?” her father asked.
Thankfully, Mallory held her tongue and didn’t question Jordan about the mystery man’s identity.
“He’s meeting us here,” Jordan repli
ed.
They all went inside.
Mallory excused herself to go to the restroom.
As they waited for a table, a middle-aged brunette approached Jordan and pulled her into a hug. “Hey, how are you? Is this your family?” Before Jordan could ask who she was, the woman started signing Mallory’s praises to their parents. “You must be so proud. Mallory is such a delight and a fabulous manicurist. I was so happy for her when she bought her house last year. And soon she’s getting married.” The woman patted Cyrus’s arm. “I’ve heard so much about you,” she told him. “Congratulations, lovebirds.”
Cyrus shook his head. “This isn’t—”
“No need to be humble,” the brunette interrupted. “I’ve heard all about your success in real estate. Mallory brags on you all the time.”
Jordan wished the black and white checkered floor would open up and swallow her. Sure, Mallory was an impressive young woman, but Jordan had been trying to make her life a success, too.
“How many?” A waitress picked up several menus and packets of silverware.
“Six,” Jordan immediately answered.
“I’ll let you all go,” the middle-aged woman said. “See you next week, Mallory.”
Rather than set the lady straight, Jordan gave her a thumbs up.
The waitress seated them at a large, red vinyl booth, and handed them each a menu. “I’ll give you a minute,” she said, then walked away.
Mallory finally returned and slid in next to her fiance.
Cyrus set down his menu. “I knew what I was ordering before we got here. Their burgers and cheese fries are legendary. And I highly recommend the strawberry milkshakes.”
“Yeah, if you have a supersonic metabolism.” Mallory shook her head. “I’m going to get the chef salad.”
Jordan checked her phone. Harry was only a few minutes late. She had confidence he’d show up any moment.
“Does your boyfriend have a name, Jordan?” her father asked.
Mallory raised an eyebrow at Jordan, who gave her twin a super-quick smile.
Thanks for not ratting me out, sister.
“Harry,” Jordan said.
“Are y’all ready to order?” Their waitress fished out an order pad and a pen.
Their mom checked her watch. “We don’t have much time, Jordan. Are you sure your boyfriend is coming?”
“He said he was.” If he didn’t make it, not only would Jordan’s family think she was a failure, but also a liar.
“Why don’t you order for Harry?” her mom suggested,
Gulping, Jordan scanned the menu. “Come back to me, please,” she told the waitress.
After the others had given their orders, Jordan glanced at the door, praying that Harry would walk through. When he didn’t, an ache started at her temples.
Harry had already come to her rescue twice. Perhaps she’d used up her quota of saves. “I’ll start with a strawberry milkshake,” she told the waitress. She needed something sweet to wash away the bitter taste of disappointment.
Chapter Six
Someone was following him.
Harry checked his rearview mirror again. The black Buick had dropped back several car lengths, but even after Harry had made a series of roundabout turns, the sedan was still there.
What the hell was going on? Why would anyone follow him? What could they want? There was only one way to find out. Steeling himself to confront the person, Harry pulled to the curb.
The Buick slowed way down as it passed then sped off. Unfortunately, the dark tinted windows had made it impossible for him to see the driver.
Harry clenched his jaw as he pulled out onto the road. The other vehicle weaved around cars then made a left turn from the right lane, nearly hitting a grey-haired woman crossing the street.
The elderly woman let go of her walker to clutch her chest.
Was she all right?
Harry punched the steering wheel. He couldn’t just leave a helpless and possibly traumatized lady there, so he parked his truck and got out to check on her.
His gut told him he’d just lost an opportunity to learn the identity of the man who’d broken into the Tuckers’ house last night, but right now his biggest concern was the octogenarian. He ran across the street to her. “Are you okay, ma’am?”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Are you hurt,” he said a little louder.
“No, I don’t think so.”
He led her to a bench where she sat down and took several deep breaths. “That black car almost ran me over. What a jerk.”
“Did you happen to get a look at him?”
“Book him?” She scrunched her forehead. “I’m not sure what that means.”
“The man in the car,” he repeated. “Were you able to see what he looked like?”
She shook her head. “It happened too fast.”
“I can take you to the hospital,” he offered.
Waving away his concern, she said, “That’s not necessary. You’re a dear for asking.”
If he had a grandmother or mother somewhere out there, he hoped people were kind to her. “Can I give you a lift anywhere?”
“You’re a nice man. I live a couple of blocks away. A ride would be lovely.” She patted his arm. “Your wife or girlfriend is lucky to have you.”
Her comment reminded him that he was supposed to be meeting Jordan and her family. “Excuse me,” he told the woman. “I’ve got to make a call.” He stepped a few yards away to phone Jordan but went straight to voicemail. After leaving her an apologetic message, he helped the old woman to his car then drove her home.
The good deed took longer than he’d hoped. His senior passenger—who introduced herself as Mrs. Reed, insisted Harry come inside.
A chihuahua met them in the front hall, yapping like crazy.
“It’s okay, Mambo,” Mrs. Reed told the pooch.
“Hush, Mambo,” a man said from another room.
When the man came into the foyer, Harry recognized him as the EMT who’d shown up at the Tuckers’ house after the break-in. “Whoa,” Harry said. “Small world. You live here?”
“Next door. This is my grandmother. What are you doing here?” Aiden looked from her to Harry. “Are you all right, Grandma?”
“All night? I’ve only been gone a little while.”
Aiden scrubbed a hand over his face. “You forgot to put in your hearing aids, Grandma. I asked if you were okay.”
Mrs. Reed sat on an upholstered bench. “Thanks to this young man, I am. Some maniac driver nearly killed me.”
“I just gave her a lift home,” Harry said.
“I appreciate that.” Aiden shook hands with him.
Mrs. Reed told Aiden about the speeding sedan, and Harry helping her across the street. Then she pulled herself up with her walker. “At least let me send you off with some of my world-famous butterscotch fudge. I’ve got a fresh batch in the fridge.”
Harry backed toward the door. “Actually, I’ve got to run. I’m late for…an appointment.”
Mrs. Reed narrowed her eyes at Harry. “You say you’re getting anointed?”
Aiden and Harry laughed.
“I’ll explain after you put in your hearing aids,” Aiden told her. Then he walked Harry out. “I owe you one, man.”
“Not at all. She’s a sweet lady.”
By the time Harry arrived at Mummy’s, he spotted Jordan in a corner booth with four other people. A waitress was clearing away their dishes. Darn it. He’d let Jordan down. Before he went over to apologize, he paid their tab. That done, he headed to their table. For a split second, he thought he saw double until he remembered that Jordan and her twin were identical. With a second glance, he was able to tell them apart. Mallory exuded confidence that Jordan didn’t possess.
The sisters sat on either side of a very tall, dark-haired man. The twins’ parents occupied the other side of the booth. The resemblance between mother a
nd daughters was uncanny—same blue, cat-shaped eyes, same blond hair, although their mother’s was cut short. Their father had salt-and-pepper hair and was fitter than Harry would have expected for a man who appeared to be in his late fifties. His expression was serious but not unkind.
Jordan’s face lit up when she saw him. His pulse quickened. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
The older man frowned at him, but the younger one stood up and shook hands with Harry. “Cyrus Barker,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”
“Harry Hill.” Next, he offered his hand to Jordan’s father, who hesitated a moment before shaking with him.
“Glad you finally made it,” Jordan’s dad said. “I’m Tom, and this is my wife, Carol.”
After the rest of the introductions, Harry slid into the booth next to Jordan. “I’m sorry I let you down,” he whispered against her ear. “I’ll explain later.”
She squeezed his hand under the table. “I’m just glad you’re here now.”
“I tried to call.”
Jordan rifled in her purse. “Oh, jeez. I must have left my phone in my car.”
“Miss,” Tom said to the waitress as she cleared the rest of the dishes away. “Can I have our check, please?”
“It’s already taken care of.” The waitress tipped her chin toward Harry. “He paid it while y’all weren’t looking.”
“What?” Carol gave Harry a warm smile. “You shouldn’t have.”
“It was the least I could do after I was so late.”
Jordan hooked Harry’s arm as the group left the restaurant. “That was so sweet. And stealthy.”
In the parking lot, Carol and Tom hugged their daughters goodbye.
Tom shook hands with Cyrus and then Harry. “I hope we’ll see you boys next time we come through Nocturne Falls,” he said.
“Absolutely,” Cyrus replied.
Harry nodded his agreement. Although he’d only known Jordan a couple of days, he liked her. A lot. Which gave him more urgent and personal reasons to find out his identity. Without knowing his past, he didn’t dare even consider embarking on a future.
He offered up a wish that his cat held the key to who he was. With any luck, soon he’d know his past, and wouldn’t have to hold back his desire for Jordan.
Courting the Cat Whisperer Page 6