don’t have many friends.”
“Fawn,” I promised. “You and I are most definitely friends, and we always will be. I’m going to grab Lola and head home, and Sage is going to fly on to Ami’s to check on her. Have a great night. And watch yourself out there. You never know when danger lurks.”
Or Damian lurks.
She turned back to me before disappearing in to the brush with a look of longing, like she wanted to stay. “You too.”
****
“Tell me about her.”
We were alone. Lola sat on Pen’s office chair and licked her silky fur free of the dirt and foliage that had accumulated like lint to tape on our outing. She didn’t like any stray objects in her fur. I’d found that out when she’d complained about it on the walk home. We had a few minutes to chat before I needed to crawl in to bed with Pen. For the first time in a long time, I was actually interested in the getting to know you conversation with a newcomer.
“Edith was a wonderful woman,” she said, her huge, blue eyes welling up with kitty tears. “I’m going to miss her horribly. Every day, she fed me my favorite food, gave me treats and brushed my fur during the entire episode of The Young and the Restless.”
Lola sighed and stopped licking to look in to my eyes.
“Will I be okay here?” she asked.
“I can guarantee with one hundred percent certainty that you will be more than okay,” I promised. “Penelope is the nicest, most caring witch … woman you will ever meet. She will make it her mission to find you a home that is just as good as the one you had, if not better.”
Holy smokes, the allure of her compelling eyes had almost caused me to spew some privileged information out of my smitten, black mouth. I couldn’t do that yet. I didn’t know if I could trust Lola. She seemed okay, but you just never knew. Maybe Damian or Bianca had sent her for espionage, knowing that eye candy was my one and only weakness. I wouldn’t put something that diabolical past either one of them.
“How long have you been here? With Penelope?” she asked.
That was a loaded question and I wasn’t quite sure how to respond. I couldn’t tell her the truth, that I was over three hundred years old and had been with the DeLaCroix family, watching out for their women back before old Rupert DeLaCroix had tried to mine for gold back in the early seventeen hundreds.
“As long as I can remember,” I went with the safe and evasive answer. “I really like it here, and you will, too. But as beautiful as you are, you’ll find a home right away. Most likely in the morning with Jessie Plunks.”
“Who’s that?” she asked.
“She’s a really nice older lady,” I replied. “You’ll like her. She makes really great apple pie and has a really pillowy bosom that is great for sleeping when you’re in a pinch.”
Dear God. Did I just say that? This woman threw me seriously off my game.
“Talisman, I’m afraid.”
Okay, that threw me even more off my game. Now, she wasn’t just a beautiful woman. She was a beautiful woman in distress and afraid who wanted me to comfort her.
“Don’t be afraid, Lola,” I soothed. “Everything is going to be fine.” I used the moment to inch closer and drink in my first breath of her feminine scent.
“But I don’t want to be adopted by another older person,” she cried. “What if Jessie loves me and I love Jessie and then she dies too.”
We’re all going to die. Except me, of course. I had to admit it. Because, I was the suave and debonair, player type, I’d never taken much emotional investment in my women over the years, but Lola was leading me to some tender feelings, long buried. Not since Miss Josephine, a witty Siamese from the prohibition era. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not.
“Jessie’s not going to die,” I assured her. “At least not anytime soon. When you meet her you’ll know why. Feisty is an understatement.”
Of course, I left out the part about Harry. And Walter. That curly