Finding Perfect (Fool's Gold #3)(10)

She stared back at him.

“I wanted you to be happy. I really tried. I hope you know that.”

Jake closed his eyes, as if willing her to be done.

She picked up the tote holding his supplies in one hand and the pet carrier in the other. She took the stairs slowly, then put Jake and his things in the backseat of her car.

The drive to Jo’s only took a few minutes. She parked in front of the other woman’s house. Before she could get out, Jo had stepped out onto the front porch, then hurried down the steps.

“I’m ready,” the other woman called as Pia got out of her car. “It’s weird. I haven’t had a cat in so long, but I’m really excited.”

Jo opened the back door of the car and took out the carrier. “Hi, big guy. Look at you. Who’s a handsome kitty?”

The cooing singsong voice was nearly as surprising as the words. For a woman who prided herself on running her neighborhood bar with a combination of strict rules and not-so-subtle intimidation, Jo’s sweet baby talk was disconcerting.

Pia collected the tote and followed Jo into her house.

Jo had moved to Fool’s Gold about three years ago and bought a failing bar. She’d transformed the business into a haven for women, offering great drinks, big TVs that showed more reality shows and shopping channels than sports, and plenty of guilt-free snacks. Men were welcome, as long as they knew their place.

Jo was tall, pretty, well-muscled and unmarried. Pia would guess she was in her midthirties. So far Jo hadn’t been seen with a man, or mentioned one from her past. Rumors ranged from her being a mafia princess to a woman on the run from an abusive boyfriend. All Pia knew for sure was that Jo kept a gun behind the bar and she looked more than capable of using it.

Pia stepped into Jo’s and closed the front door. The house was older, built in the 1920s, with plenty of wood and a huge fireplace. All the doors off the living room were closed and a sheet blocked the entrance to the stairs.

“I’m giving him limited access for now,” Jo explained as she walked through to the kitchen. “The sheet won’t work for long, but it should keep him on this floor for a few hours.”

Pia trailed after her.

Jo put the carrier down on the kitchen floor and opened the door. Jake cautiously stepped out, sniffing as he went.

“The house is really big,” Jo explained. “That could scare him. Once he gets to know the place, he’ll be fine.”

“He must have loved my apartment,” Pia murmured, thinking of how small it was.

“I’m sure he did. Cats like upstairs windows. They can see the world.”

Pia set the tote on the counter. “You know a lot about cats.”

“I grew up with them,” Jo said wistfully, then leaned down and petted Jake’s back.

Pia half expected the cat to take off one of Jo’s fingers with his claws. Instead Jake paused to sniff her fingers, then rubbed his head against them.

He’d never done that to her, she thought, trying not to be offended. Apparently being a cat person helped.

Jo set out dry food and water on a place mat in the corner of the kitchen. Jake disappeared into the laundry room. A minute or so later, there was the distinctive scratching sound of litter being moved.

“He found his bathroom,” Jo said happily. “He’s all set. He’ll figure out the rest of it. Come on. Let’s go sit in the living room while he explores. I’ve been working on a new peppermint martini recipe. I’d like it ready for Christmas. You can tell me what you think.”

A martini sounded like an excellent plan, Pia thought, trailing after her friend.

They sat on a comfortable sofa, across from the huge fireplace. Jo poured liquid from a pitcher into a shaker, shook it, then tipped the startlingly pink liquid into two martini glasses.

“Be honest. Is it too sweet?”

Pia took a sip. The liquid was icy cold and tasted of peppermint. It was more refreshing than sweet, with a hint of something she couldn’t place. Honey? Almond?

“Dangerously good,” she admitted. “And I’m driving.”

“You can walk home and get your car in the morning,” Jo told her. Her gaze sharpened. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Pia took another taste of her drink. “Just feeling kind of strange. Giving up Jake and all.”

“I’m sorry,” Jo said. “I didn’t mean to steal your cat.”

“You didn’t. He’s not my cat. I thought we were getting along great, but you’ve had more contact with him in the past five minutes than I’ve had in the last month. I don’t think he likes me.”

“Cats can be funny.”

As if to prove Jo’s point, Jake jumped up on the back of the sofa. He stared at Pia for a moment, then turned his back on her. He dropped gracefully to the seat cushion, stepped onto Jo’s lap, curled up and closed his eyes. As he lay there, he began to purr.

Pia found herself feeling snubbed, which hurt a whole lot more than she would have guessed.

“He never purred for me.”

Jo had begun stroking the cat. Her hand froze. “Did you want to keep him?”

“No. I would say he hates me, but I don’t think he put that much energy into it. I just never thought of myself as giving off the anti-cat vibration.”

“You weren’t raised with pets.”