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His jaw tightens. "Where'd you get it?"

"Estate sale."

"When?"

"Yesterday."

"Whose estate?"

"Are you secretly an antique appraiser?"

"Maren."

"Why do you keep saying my name like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like I'm about to walk into traffic."

His gaze locks on mine, and for one second fear moves through his eyes. Not for himself.

For me.

Then it's gone, shuttered behind gray. That scares me more than the mirror did.

I lower my voice. "Gage?"

The shop door jingles and a black cat strolls in like he owns the building and I'm behind on rent.

I stare at him. Gage stares at him. The cat ignores us both.

"Well. Apparently Bell & Bone accepts walk-ins now."

He's a gorgeous animal. Sleek black fur, oversized ears, a tail like a question mark. Gold eyes that burn almost amber in the morning light. A small white crescent marks his chest.

He hops onto an upholstered chair. Then a display cabinet. Then directly onto my counter.

"Excuse me. You can't be up there."

The cat blinks. I reach for him. He steps around my hand and sits on the mirror.

Gage swears.

"Did you just curse at a cat?"

"Move him."

"I'm trying."

"Now." His tone changes. Commanding. Hard.

My spine stiffens. "I don't know what lumberjack dictatorship you run next door, but you don't give orders in my shop."

The cat's ears flatten. Not at me. At the mirror.

Gage notices. So do I.

The cat rises, slowly, every hair along his spine lifting. A growl rolls out of his small body, far too deep for his size.