Page 76 of Talk Wicked to Me

“I’d love to see your cat condos.”

He chuckled. “Really?”

“Yes. I love getting to know more about you, and taking care of those cats is what nudged you toward becoming a vet. Unless it’s too personal and you’d rather not share them with me.”

He reached across the seat, taking her hand. “There’s nothing about me or my life that I won’t share with you. Next stop, Pussy Palace.”

THEY PARKED IN front of Baz’s parents’ house, a rambling two-story with a wide front porch, two-car garage, and a large yard, so different from the brownstone in which she’d grown up. Baz was strapping on Brennan’s carrier when Conroy came out the front door.

“How’d you know I was missing that little guy?” Conroy asked as he headed for them.

“Hey, Dad. I’m taking Em out to see the cat condos.” Ollie whined, pawing at the truck door. Baz let him out, and he ran to Conroy.

Conroy got down on one knee to pet him. “You remember me from when you were with Gunny and Sid, don’t you? I missed you, too.” He gave him a few more pets before pushing to his feet. “Dogs never forget. How are you, sweetheart?” He wrapped his strong arms around Emerson, hugging her tight, holding her for an extra second like her dad used to.

“I’m great. How are you?”

“Better now that I got to set my eyes on all of you.” He clapped a hand on Baz’s shoulder. “Good to see you, son. Now give that boy to Grandpoppy Con.”

As Baz handed him over, Ollie observed the transfer and remained dutifully beside Conroy, watching him like a hawk. Conroy gazed at Brennan with so much affection, Emerson’s heart squeezed. Even after weeks of seeing Baz’s parents with Brennan and hearing them referred to as Granny Gingy and Grandpa Con, Emerson was still touched every time she heard it. It was hard not to imagine them as Brennan’s real grandparents, and she was thankful they had them in their lives.

“Look how big you’ve gotten,” Conroy said. “Soon you’ll be crawling and driving your mama batty as she races around picking up all the things you shouldn’t touch.” He offered Brennan his finger, and her little boy tried to tug it into his mouth. Conroy glanced at Emerson. “Why don’t I hang on to him while you check out the cat condos?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” She already knew the answer. He and Ginger loved Brennan as much as Baz did.

“I don’t know, Em. He’s quite the burden,” Conroy teased. “Using his cuteness like a weapon to get everyone to cater to him.” He chuckled. “Can you stay for dinner? We’ve got the crib and a bassinet set up for Leo and Marybelle, so Bren can nap if need be.”

“We’ve had a big day.” Baz looked at her. “Are you up to it, or would you rather head home to chill?”

As much as she was aching to be closer to Baz, she really liked his parents and wanted to stay and get to know them better on their turf. It had also been a long time since she’d had a family to have dinner with, and she had a feeling dinner with the Wickeds would be a lot more like what she remembered dinners with her family were like than they were with the Vasilious.

“I’d love to stay for dinner.”

With Brennan and Ollie safely under his father’s wing, Baz took Emerson’s hand, and they headed into the woods behind the house. It was cooler in the shade, with the late-afternoon sun filtering through the trees. They walked deeper into the woods until there were no houses in sight.

“Careful.” Baz tightened his hold on her hand as she stepped over a fallen branch.

“Thanks. I’m sure all woods look similar around here, but this reminds me of our last trip to the Cape, when I chased a fox into the woods,” she said as they came to a massive tree, and Baz stopped walking.

“There are foxes all over the Cape.” He looked to their left and lifted his chin. “Welcome to the Pussy Palace. Ashley and Madigan snuck in here and painted them. They were so freaking proud of themselves, and I was not happy about it.”

She followed his gaze, and it took a minute for her to wrap her mind around what she was seeing. Rocks lined walkways leading to each of five long forts made out of sticks. There was a small graveyard to the right of them with crooked stick crosses and rocks around it. The forts were about two feet tall and ten feet long with peaks in the middle, and seven small wooden cubbies inside. The cubbies were built out of mismatched wood and branches, messily painted bright colors, each one just big enough for a cat to fit inside. Above each entrance was a sign boasting names, most of which were crossed out, and new ones had been painted in, but Emerson’s attention was drawn to the middle fort. It was built in front of a tree that had crooked branches sticking out on either side like scarecrow arms, and above those arms were two knots in the bark that looked like eyes. It was bigger now, the branches higher, the knots deeply grooved, but there was no mistaking that it was the same tree, and she was looking at the same fort she’d discovered when she’d chased that fox into the woods.

“I can’t believe this,” she said, walking toward the middle fort. “This is where I chased that fox, but there was only one fort at the time, and no cat condos inside.”

“Holy shit. Are you serious?”

“Yes. That’s the scarecrow tree. My dad told me that it was there to protect the foxes. The lowest branches are the arms, and the knots on the trunk above them are the eyes.”

“I never noticed that before.”

“There was only one fort back then, and it was the one in front of the tree.”

“That was the first one I built.”

“My parents and I made a rock walkway to the door.”

“That’s the same walkway. I never changed it. I thought Ashley and Mads did it.”