Walk Through Fire (Chaos #4)(148)

Which meant I needed my client.

So I reached to his thermal, grabbed a fistful, and pulled him to me. I got up on toes to press my lips hard to his and then shifted away.

“Later, Snooks,” I whispered.

“Later, baby,” he whispered back.

I grinned at him and let him go.

Then I walked away. Even in a hurry, I did it slow so I could give him a show because I knew my man was watching and I was his old lady.

We gave like that.

We gave anything we could.

*  *  *

It was that evening and I was walking on clouds because it was going great.

Logan had picked the girls up from dance practice on Tuesday and taken them out to dinner, just him and them. Other than that, it had been only phone calls.

But having them there now, I noticed that since our weekend, something had changed.

They’d arrived at my house that night, Logan picking them up from their mother’s, and although Zadie was a bit moody and uncommunicative, Cleo was not.

There had been barriers before between Cleo and me. She’d been the way she was with me solely to get the approval of her father.

I knew this now because those barriers were eroding.

Through chitchat while cooking, horsing about, and eating beef Stroganoff at my bar, Cleo introduced me to the real Cleo.

And she was a love.

Sure, she adored her father and wanted his approval.

But when it wasn’t something she was working at, when it was just a natural part of her, coupling that with Logan’s reaction to it, it was sweet to the point it was downright cute.

So cute it gave a happy glow that I was beside myself with glee I got to bask in it.

Though it was more.

She was unreservedly delighted when I let her give fresh food to the cats. When I asked about dance, she’d timidly (then with my encouragement and compliments, not so timidly) showed me some of the moves they were rehearsing for their routine, so damned adorable doing this in my kitchen, I felt even more glow warming me to my bones.

And she didn’t hide how much she liked my house and the studio when I took them on a guided tour of both after the dinner dishes were done, saying to me shyly while standing in the guestroom, “It’ll be fun when we get to sleep over, Millie.”

More glow.

Further adding to this goodness, it seemed that as all this went on, Zadie was studying it, watching Cleo come out of her shell and my reaction to it. And I hoped, in watching, that she’d find she’d want to start building something like that with me too.

Now things were winding down. We were going to hang in front of the TV with a batch of cupcakes from Tessa’s Bakery that I’d picked up on the way back from my meeting. We were going to do something normal that a family would do at the end of the day before Logan had to take them back to their mom’s.

The girls were selecting seats (Zadie, not surprisingly, pulling a princess and getting the cuddle chair, Cleo, not suffering in getting the love seat) and Logan had claimed his, the corner of the couch.

He also claimed me. His hand catching mine, he was pulling me down beside him when I watched Poem struggle up into the love seat with Cleo, unable to jump that height, so she used her claws.

Seeing that, I put tension in my arm to resist Logan’s pull and looked around, asking, “Anyone seen Chief?”

I asked this because I hadn’t. Not since Cleo gave them fresh food before we sat down for dinner.

Chief and Poem had settled in to their new abode, putting up with me loving on them, enjoying me playing with them, and were currently in the throes of figuring out who ruled the roost.

This meant a lot of kitty wrestling.

However, I’d noticed that Chief was winning. Poem was starting to hang back and wait to see where Chief would claim before she decided to challenge his claim or allow it.

It was rare when they weren’t both around, jockeying for position.

Rare as in, it never happened.

But Chief was nowhere to be seen.

“Haven’t seen him, babe,” Logan muttered.

I looked to Cleo, who had a hand stretched to a skittish Poem but her eyes to me. “I haven’t either.”

“Think he went outside when we went to your office,” Zadie stated, and my eyes shot to her, my blood freezing in my veins.

“What?” I whispered.

She stared at me and I was way too freaked to see anything but confusion in her face. “Not sure but I think I saw him wander outside when we went out—”

I tore my hand from Logan’s and raced to the back door, throwing it open and sprinting outside.

It was cold. It was dark.

And my Chief was tiny.

They were not going to be outside cats and not because they cost a fortune and had bushy coats that were hard enough to keep tamed as indoor cats and this would be impossible if they went outdoors.

But because I’d read that indoor cats lived longer than outdoor cats. Way longer. Like... years.

Further, they’d showed not the first sign of being interested in the outdoors or being bored with the playroom of a house they’d already been given.

So they were good indoors, which was where they were going to stay.

But now Chief had gotten out. A baby, tiny, anything could happen to him. He could get lost. He could be attacked and stand no chance. Not even if a bird swooped down.