Apple of My Eye (Tiger's Eye Mystery #7) - Alyssa Day Page 0,7

having none of it.

She yowled again and shot out of his arms, leaping all the way to the couch in one bound.

"I bet you have claw marks on your shirt too," I said, smiling in spite of myself.

Good for you, Lou.

"I know. I deserve it, Lou." He glanced at me, laughter sparkling in his eyes. "I probably deserved it from you too, but I guess that's the cat equivalent of punching me in the stomach."

I dropped my stuff on the couch and then froze, as a horrible thought crossed my mind. "You can never, ever tell Aunt Ruby about that. I'd get a two-hour lecture on Southern manners."

"Scout's honor."

"You were a Boy Scout?"

"Cub Scout."

"Really?"

"Tiger cub." He burst out laughing, and I groaned and headed for the kitchen to find food. I hadn't had much lunch, and I was suddenly starving. Amazing how having your hot tiger return to town and try to kiss you jolted the appetite.

"Do you have any pie?"

"Nope. I also am down one pie pan, after the death skull cooties. We can order pizza, or I have sandwich fixings and soup."

"The what cooties? And sandwiches are fine. Great, even. Too much pizza and junk food on the road."

I pulled sandwich stuff and leftover homemade chicken noodle soup out of the fridge, telling him about Lucky and the skeleton, while Jack got out the plates, bowls, and silverware. We moved around the kitchen like we had so many times, during so many meals, but it felt a little awkward.

A little off-rhythm.

There's a synchronized choreography you fall into with someone you care about when you're doing ordinary tasks—a ballet of the mundane, given grace by the harmony between the people involved.

Jack and I'd had that before he left, but we were off the beat now—missing steps in the dance. I wondered if we'd get it back.

Hoped we would.

Was scared we wouldn't.

"Tea?" He held up the glass pitcher I'd found at a flea market.

"No, I'll just have water. Sorry, I don't think I have any beer."

"Tea is fine for me."

I put the soup in a pan and turned on the stove. "This won't take long. If you want to make yourself a sandwich, I can—"

"Tess."

"The weather has been nice," I said, babbling away and realizing that now we were here, alone in my house, all the emotions I'd had burbling around inside me while he was gone were churning into a roiling mass in my stomach.

Loneliness.

Worry.

Fear.

And now he was back. And trying to act like we could take up where we'd left off. Could we?

Should we?

Why did relationships have to be so hard?

I opened a can and fed my cat, who stalked into the room when she heard the can opener, haughtily ignoring Jack.

"You have it easy, my friend," I murmured, petting her silky head. "No tom cats to worry about."

Jack started laughing. I hadn't had to worry about Superior Tiger Hearing for a while, so I'd gotten out of practice in keeping my thoughts to myself.

"No tom cats, hmm?" He put the silverware down on the table and started toward me. "I missed you, Tess."

I froze. "I… I missed you too. I just—"

"You just what?"

"You left me! For almost two months! I was worried about you. How can I be involved with somebody who does that?" I backed away from him when he moved closer. "What if you do it again?"

This time, it was his turn to still. He was silent for a long moment, and then he sighed. "I can't promise that I won't. There are responsibilities… obligations. Promises I made. I wouldn't be the man you let into your life if I didn't stand by my word."

I didn't know how to answer that, because… he was right.

I'd leave a relationship in a heartbeat to help Aunt Ruby or Uncle Mike if they needed me.

But, still…

"I'd call." I poked him in the chest. "Yes, I'd go, but I'd call. I wouldn't make you worry all the time, like you did to me."

"I don't know what to say, other than you're right."

"And—what?"

"You're right. I'm so used to compartmentalizing my life that I didn't want the ugliness of what was happening there to touch you here."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing, just put out plates and bowls. We sat down to dinner, mutually coming to a silent agreement to avoid difficult subjects while we ate. And it worked. Little by little, chatting about nothing at all important, things between us started to feel better.