Page 80 of Unbound

“Not bad.” She presses a button on the fob and the back end opens. “I take it you’re Walker?”

Shit. I’m fucking this up already.

“I am.” I hold one hand out. “Nice to meet you.” For the second time, I hold back on giving her my full name. Not because I want to deceive her, but because if it’s a bomb, Sybil should be the one to detonate it.

Her mother eyes my hand for a second before taking it in a strong grip. “Paula.”

“Well, Paula”—I turn to her packed trunk—”I’m glad you’re planning to stay for a while.” I reach for the largest suitcase, something Sybil told me wiggling in my brain. “I wasn’t sure how long you’d be able to take off work.”

“I can take off as long as I want because I sold it.” She goes straight for the animal carrier stowed to one side, a carefully packed stack of bags keeping it secure. “Someone made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, and I took it.”

“That’s fantastic.” Genuinely. “I know Sybil will be happy to hear that when she wakes up.”

Paula stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Sybil is asleep?”

“It’s been a busy couple of weeks. I got her to lie down for a minute, and she crashed.” I haul out a second large suitcase, setting the bag onto its wheels before lifting the handle.

“You got my daughter to take a nap?” Paula shakes her head, laughing sharply. “I’ve never been able to get her to take a nap. Even when she was a toddler.”

“I’m not surprised.” I lead Paula toward the front door. “Her mind doesn’t like to turn off.”

Sybil’s mother snorts behind me. “I don’t think it’s capable of turning off.” She brings the animal carrier inside, eyes moving over the space. “She’s always been too smart for her own good.”

“I think sometimes she’s too smart for everyone’s own good.” I roll the suitcases to the base of the stairs, making sure the front door’s closed before tipping my head at the plastic and wire box. “Feel free to let your cat out whenever you’re ready. I’ve got a delivery coming any minute with a litter box.”

“It was very nice of you to invite me to bring Biscuit.” Paula lowers the carrier to the floor and pinches the wire door opening mechanism. “She’s very well behaved.”

I watch as a long-haired, flat-faced cat the color of its namesake emerges, its large pale green eyes absorbing the new setting.

I’ve never had a pet of my own. I’ve been around Deidre’s lab and the poodles Toby and Titus have, but have zero experience with cats. I wouldn’t have the first clue what to do with it, so I leave Paula and Biscuit to begin acclimating while I bring in the rest of her luggage. I’ve just carried the last of it in when the grocery delivery truck pulls in my driveway.

After setting up Biscuit’s litter box in the mud room just inside my back door and putting away all the food, I find Paula sitting on my sofa, her spine straight, hands folded in her lap. She looks…

Uncomfortable.

“Can I get you something to drink? Food?” I maybe should have paid a little more attention to what my aunt does when she has guests, but honestly, I never expected to be in this position. Guess we’re all just going to have to figure it out together.

“I don’t suppose you have any sparkling water.” Her eyes drag over my admittedly sparse home. “If not, tap is fine.”

“I do have sparkling water.” Thanks to Sybil. She gave me a list of foods and beverages her mother enjoys, and I bought every one of them. “Anything to eat?”

Paula again studies me, like she’s trying to figure me out. “Graham crackers?”

“Coming up.” I turn, but not before I see the widening of her eyes.

I’m surprising her. Hopefully in a good way.

A chilled bottle of water and a pack of crackers in my hands, I go back to where she sits and pass them off. Then I have a seat in one of the armchairs beside the couch. We both sit in silence as she nibbles on the corner of a cracker and empties half her beverage.

After what seems like a pretty long time, she slides her crackers on the coffee table and angles her body toward me. “You don’t talk much.”

“I don’t.” I wait to see what she might comment on next. What questions she could ask.

Paula leans back in her seat, posture still perfect. “That’s probably a good thing, because Sybil talks enough for both of you.”

I’m trying to decide whether or not she’s insulting her daughter, when something leaps at me. I’d almost forgotten about the cat. The thing is quiet and stealthy as shit, not making a peep or an appearance since it first left the crate. Not until now.

And now it’s standing on my lap, staring at me the exact same way its owner is. Like it’s trying to figure me out.