Page 32 of The Dating Charade

“It was you? Really? Dispatch said it was a kid.”

Her voice lifted several notes. “I have a very young voice over the phone.”

She gave a high little laugh. He echoed with a low, uncertain one.

“Well?” he said, as though dubious on how to proceed. “How about I come in and see to this cat problem?”

“Oh. Sure.” The problem. Cassie turned on her heels.

He followed behind her, stopping at the Christmas tree.

“Where are we looking?” He turned in a circle, searching the ceiling.

Cassie took a breath.

Pointed. “In there.”

Jett lowered his gaze to the direction of her finger, a finger nearly parallel to her head. He touched a branch. “Here?”

She closed her eyes. Nodded.

He stepped closer. “In this tree?”

She nodded again.

The room was silent as Jett reached in and pulled out Mr. Jeeves. He set him on the ground. Mr. Jeeves gave him a distrustful blink before whisking his tail and moving into the kitchen.

Cassie’s grandfather clock informed them of the hour, and for eight long chimes they both watched the ground intently.

She felt him quietly assessing her sanity.

She fretted with the hem of her blouse. “I have a thing about pine needles.”

Excellent. So apparently small lies that did not, in fact, help with the case for her sanity were just fine.

“Ah. See, we didn’t cover that at the aquarium.” His eyes fell on the pine-scented candle on the coffee table, drifted over the twelve-foot garland hanging over the mantel, and stopped on the miniature Christmas tree cheerfully lit on the floor beside the glider.

“It’s a really new thing,” Cassie added.

“Uh-huh.” Still, he smiled, clapping his gloves. “Well, would’ve preferred knocking on your door with flowers instead of a firehose, but I’m still glad to drop in. You’ve got a nice house out here, Cassie. I like your mantel.” He put one gloved hand on the dark wood over the fireplace. “And these windows. Good insulation.”

Cassie locked her fingers together. “Thank you. I always try to have good insulation.”

“Yep. A very important trait in a woman.” He paused, seeming to wait on her to say something, ask something, do something.

Though it came at a volume of a mouse’s scuffle, Cassie heard a break of laughter floating down the stairs from the girls’ room. She gave a loud cough as she grabbed Jett’s arm by the coat. “Where are my manners? I’ll give you a tour.”

Jett obligingly let her speed him through the kitchen, dining room, living room, and bathroom of the first floor.

“I see we have a mutual fondness for macaroni.” He stopped at the oversized pot. Coupled with Kennedy’s discovered obsession for the sea-shaped cheesy animals and Cassie’s complete inexperience in cooking for four, Cassie had gone a little overboard. Seven boxes later, the stockpot was still full from dinner.

“You never know when a midnight craving will strike.”

“You mean, all this is for you after dinner?”

“Are other guys waiting outside?” Cassie swiftly walked him through the hall and parked him at the front door. “Well, thanks a million.”

A corner of his mouth lifted in a sideways grin. He put his helmet on. “A day in the life, ma’am.”