Free The Marriage Charm (Bliss County 2) by Linda Lael Miller

had come about mostly because once he started dating women who weren’t Melody, he was quick to lose interest.
    He wondered how she’d feel if she found out how old those condoms were. Surely they held up pretty well in those foil packs. He didn’t sleep around, no matter what everyone gabbed about. At one time, especially after their breakup, he’d dated lots of women, but his heart hadn’t been in it, and that was a problem, as he’d discovered.
    “Her cats are weird according to what I’ve heard from Tripp,” he said to Harley as he drove into Mustang Creek proper. “You’ll have to stay outside.”
    His dog gave him a look that spelled out clearly he thought all cats were weird.
    That was a valid point in Spence’s view. He took a breath and expelled it. “I wasn’t looking to get involved again,” he confided. “At least I didn’t think so. Not until this weekend...”
    Sprawled in the passenger seat, Harley whined in commiseration, his white paws crossed.
    Some jerk was speeding, going the other way on Main, and as they passed he took a moment to radio that in. He was never truly off duty, but that was fine.
    He pulled up at Melody’s house, took Harley as far as the front porch and told him to stay then let himself in, pausing to look around.
    Melody had turned her living room into her studio. There were sketches scattered across a worktable, and Spence resisted the urge to examine them because that would be an invasion of her privacy, even though she’d given him permission to go inside. The place was cozy, with a comfortable sofa and a patterned rug, and the artist in her was evident in an unusual mobile by the window. Squares of brilliant stained glass hung from strands of twisted copper. It didn’t take much intuition to know she’d made it, and Spence stood there for a moment, admiring her handiwork. He knew she was gifted, but fine arts hadn’t been her major the summer they were together. Back then, she’d planned on going to law school.
    Changing her mind had been wise; she’d certainly nailed that piece, and he knew her jewelry sold well. During tourist season the local shops did a land office business in the stuff and clamored for more.
    But that aside, there was one small problem. There were no cats to feed as far as he could tell.
    No meows, no brushing against his legs, just utter silence. It was summer, and he sincerely hoped she hadn’t left a window open and they’d all escaped. It was possible that they were hiding because he wasn’t familiar to them—cats were very canny critters with a knack for self-preservation.
    Or maybe they were hiding in plain sight.
    He suddenly realized that there were three cats sitting on the fireplace mantel—looking almost like works of art themselves. He stared at them. Their tails were curled in perfectly matched question marks, and they seemed identical, but then again he was far more used to horses and dogs. Occasionally cats took up residence in his barn, but they fed themselves on the inevitable mice. It was an eerie sensation to see that these felines were studying him as if assessing his status as an interloper. Friend or foe?
    Tripp had been right. They were weird.
    “I have her permission,” he told the trio defensively. “Besides, I’m here for your convenience. She wants me to feed you.” He thought about his relationship with Harley, the understanding they had. “Anyone care to show me where the food is?”
    That ploy actually worked. Go figure.
    One of them jumped gracefully to the floor and with his tail twitching, led him to the kitchen, where he stared at a cabinet.
    There did turn out to be cans of cat food in that cabinet, so he opened one—how much did a cat eat? He divvied the contents into three servings, refilled their water bowl and left. On the porch, Harley thumped his tail in support, and Spence could swear there was a sympathetic look in his eyes that said cats .
    “I might get points for being helpful.” He