Page 61 of None Of Your Business

“I’d be a nightmare to live with,” I say instead.

Suddenly, she shakes her head and slaps the cart handle with both palms. “Anyway, that’s enough trauma dumping for a Wednesday morning.”

Every part of me wants to ask her more questions, but I can see she’s closed up.

Instead, I lean over the cart and look at the cat food. “I didn’t see any cats at your house. I was there for hours last night. No cats.”

Her smile breaks through. “They’re strays.”

“How many strays?”

“Eight,” she says, turning into the pasta aisle.

“Eight?”

“I have a whole crew expecting dinner. I’m not a fan of the dead mice on my porch, but hey.”

“It’s because they think you’re a terrible hunter and are trying to keep you alive.”

I never thought I’d be in complete agreement with a bunch of alley cats.

She scoffs in response, stopping in front of the pasta display before stretching on her tiptoes to reach a box on the top shelf.

“A little help?” she grunts, her arm straining.

“Are you asking me for assistance? I should document this.”

“Hudson.”

I could get it for her, but that wouldn’t be fun. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I lift her off the ground.

“There you go, you strong and independent woman.”

When I set her back down, she turns in my grip, her face inches from mine.

“Joke’s on you, because now I’m turned on,” she whispers, green eyes flashing with mischief.

Jesus Christ, this woman.

“Good for you,” I manage, my voice rough.

She smirks, dropping the pasta into the cart and stepping out of reach. “You’re not afraid of me, Dr. Vaughn?”

“Should I be?”

“Guys usually find me intimidating.”

I let out a dry laugh and trail after her. “I can’t imagine why.”

She rolls her eyes so hard, I’m surprised they don’t get stuck in the back of her head.

“Miss Rowan!” a voice calls out.

An older woman in a cardigan shuffles out of the next aisle with a basket. Rowan brightens instantly. “Doris! Hi!”

Doris looks me up and down with sharp eyes, then grins. “Well, look at you. Got yourself a new man.”

Most people would blush or stumble over an explanation. Rowan simply loops her arm through mine and leans her weight comfortably into my bicep.