Free Be My Baby Tonight by Kasey Michaels

teacher Mrs. Butterworth? That Mrs. Butterworth?
You’re kidding.”
    “Nope. Our Mrs. Butterworth. Her husband
died, you know. Last year. They never had any kids, and she was all
alone. Aunt Sadie told me about it. It was pretty sad, you know? So
I asked her to be my housekeeper, move in, take care of Lucky for
me. She lives in a small apartment attached to the garages, the
same way Aunt Sadie lives in an apartment attached to Jack’s
garages. It works out great, really.”
    Suzanna looked at Tim for long moments. “When
did you get Lucky?”
    “Honey,” Tim drawled, dropping a kiss on her
forehead as he walked past her, back into the living room. “I wuz born lucky.”
    She followed after him. “No, seriously, Tim.
When did you get Lucky—the cat Lucky? Before or after you
heard about Mrs. Butterworth’s husband dying and her being left all
alone in the world?”
    He collapsed onto the couch, shrugged his
shoulders. “I don’t remember. About the same time, I guess. It
doesn’t matter. It worked out, right?”
    “Right,” Suzanna said, then turned and headed
down the hallway once more.
    God. That great big goofy ball of
marshmallow. He bought a cat just so he could convince Mrs.
Butterworth he needed her to move in, where he could keep an eye on
her.
    How she loved this man. He tried never to
show it, ever, but she knew. She’d always known. The guy had a
heart as big as all—
    She wheeled around, trotted back into the
living room. “This cat. Lucky. You said something about muscles.
Tomcat, right?”
    Tim was once more scratching behind Mango’s
ears, as that fawning feline sat on the arm of the couch. “Yeah,”
he said, not looking at her.
    “And he’s fixed?”
    “He was never broken.”
    “Funny,” she said, walking around to the
front of the couch to glare at him. “And you know what I mean, Tim.
He’s been—snipped?”
    “Snipped?”
    “You know. What do they call it?
Castrated?”
    “Now, there’s a word I try never to work into
a conversation,” Tim said, scratching beneath Margo’s chin, so that
she stuck out her neck, closed her big golden eyes in ecstasy.
    “Tim, Margo’s a pedigree animal. I mean, I
don’t show her or anything like that; but she is pedigree, and I
may want to have her mated one day, have kittens. Persian kittens,
Tim, with another Persian cat. She’s nearly one now, and will be
going into heat any day now. So I can’t leave Margo with Mrs.
Butterworth unless you tell me Lucky’s been fixed. Now, did you
have him fixed? Look at me, Tim. Is Lucky fixed?”
    He looked straight at her. “Sure. The vet
took care of all of that. Shots, flea stuff, you name it.”
    Was he lying to her? Tim could lie with the
best of them. She certainly knew that. But would he lie about
something like this?
    “Okay,” she said at last. “As long as he’s
fixed. I’ll be right back, and then we can go drop Margo with Mrs.
Butterworth. I’m dying to see her again.”
    “That’s because you were always her pet,” Tim
called after her.
    “No,” she yelled back at him. “That’s because
I wasn’t twins and never tried to pretend I was my own brother.
Margo’s crate is in the hall closet. Load her up for me, okay?”
    By the time she had brushed her teeth and
changed into a denim skirt and soft pink summer sweater, Margo was
safely locked into her carrier, and Tim had loaded dry cat food and
two dishes into a clear plastic bag, along with two fuzzy toy mice
and a packet of Margo’s favorite organic catnip.
    “Small kitchen,” he said as she headed for
her purse. “It was easy to find this stuff.”
    “I know. I’m ready.” She carried, slung over
her shoulder, a soft carry-on bag she’d found in her bedroom closet
and quickly stuffed a few things into, and now picked up her
overnight bag that held her toiletries.
    “I hope you didn’t mind me opening cabinets,
finding this stuff. I think Lucky eats another brand.”
    “We’re married, Tim. Everything I have