Page 81 of Unbound

Except Biscuit seems to make a decision much quicker than Paula has. After blinking her big eyes, the fluffy feline starts to purr, poking at me with both paws as she rubs her face against my chest.

“I think something’s wrong with your cat.” The purring I get. Even the way she’s using me to pet her own head makes sense. What I don’t get is the paw thing. “I think her feet hurt.”

Paula angles a brow. “There’s nothing wrong with her paws. She’s making biscuits.”

The fuck does that mean?

Paula scoots down the couch, closing the gap between us. “I take it you’ve never been around a cat.”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Holy shit. When did you get here?” Sybil’s voice is loud and a little shrill as she rushes through the house toward us, fixing me with a confused stare. “You were supposed to come get me when she was here.”

“And he did exactly what he should have done, which was let you rest.” Paula’s tone is sharp as she stands from the couch. “I’m sure you’re still not getting the proper amount of sleep.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Sybil rolls her eyes. “I’m getting plenty of sleep.” She points at where I sit with Biscuit making biscuits—apparently—on my thigh. “He makes me go to bed at ten o’clock every night.”

Paula brings her eyes my way, looking me over. “I knew I liked you.”

“Of course you like him. He’s awesome.” Sybil frowns at the cat on my lap. “Why is Biscuit molesting him?”

Paula shrugs. “Apparently Biscuit likes him too.”

“Biscuit doesn’t like anybody.” Sybil comes toward me. “You want me to make her get down?”

“She’s fine.” Between the tiny leg massage and the steady thrum of her purr, it’s actually kind of relaxing.

“In that case, maybe we can go meet Deidre.” Paula doesn’t beat around the bush. She claps her hands together in a way that is oddly similar to one of my aunt’s favorite gestures. “Shall we?”

“Did you only come here to meet Deidre Bradshaw?” Sybil tries to hide it, but I can see the hint of hurt in her eyes.

And that isn’t going to work for me.

Scooping Biscuit up, I hold the cat in one arm, preparing to tell Paula it’s time for her to pop her head out of her ass.

But then Sybil’s mom starts explaining. “Yes, I came here to meet Deidre Bradshaw.”

Okay. Now I’m really pissed. Gonna tell Sybil’s mother to pop her head out of her ass and kiss mine in the same breath.

She brings her hands up to rest on her daughter’s shoulders. “But I’m staying so I can spend time with you.” Her eyes come my way. “And your…”

I wait, because I’m not the one who should be answering the question she’s insinuating. I wouldn’t know how. I’m not Sybil’s boyfriend. We aren’t technically together. Not in any sort of official capacity.

I’m not against it, but I imagine most people would feel like two weeks of knowing each other is a little too soon to make any sort of commitment.

Not for me though. After spending decades alone, I’m over it. So maybe I do know how to answer this question after all.

Stepping toward Sybil, I wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into my side as I meet her pretty blue gaze. “I’m her whatever she wants me to be.”

26

Sybil

“Did not have my mother becoming best friends with Deidre Bradshaw on my bingo card.” I shake my head at the two women parked at Deidre’s kitchen island, sipping from wine glasses and laughing and chatting like they’ve known each other for years. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mother this animated.”

It’s like she’s a totally different person. Instead of being a little uptight and dry, she’s warm and engaging. She’s even made a couple jokes.

Freaking bizarre.