little gray tabby, snuggled into the crook of Stevie’s arm. In response to Cole’s arrival, the cat lifted her head and gave him a look as though warning him not to disturb their sleeping guest. He frowned and studied Stevie more closely. Was there a trace of tears on her face? Had she been crying?
Gripping his overnight bag tightly in one hand, his computer case in the other, he shifted his weight uncomfortably, unsure what to do. Should he wake her? Should he let her sleep? He couldn’t just stand here watching her. It was sort of...creepy.
Dusty stood and stretched. Roused by the movement, Stevie blinked her eyes open. Finding Cole standing there, she gasped.
The last thing he’d wanted to do was frighten her. “I’m sorry, Stevie, I—”
“Cole! I didn’t—”
Both stopped talking to let the other speak, then hurried again to fill the awkward silence.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“I thought you—”
Cole held up a hand with a rueful smile when their words overlapped again. “I’ll start. I’m sorry I startled you. I didn’t know you were here. Now your turn.”
On her feet now, his next-door neighbor pushed back her tumbled hair with both hands and smiled up at him. Though just over average height himself, he still felt as though he towered over Stevie, who topped out at about five-two in her red-stockinged feet. “I thought you weren’t going to be home until tomorrow,” she said.
“I rescheduled my flight because of the weather. I didn’t want to get stuck in Dallas for an extra day or two, especially since I have to be in Chicago a few days next week.”
“And now you must be tired.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, you weren’t expecting to find uninvited company in your house.”
She had no idea just what a welcome surprise that had been, nor would he fully enlighten her. When it came to Stevie, he’d gotten pretty good at concealing his feelings during the past year. “Usually when I come home, the house is empty except for Dusty, and she likes to play it cool with her royal greetings. It’s a pleasant change to be welcomed with a smile.”
He’d answered lightly while studying her suspiciously puffy eyelids. Would it be intrusive to mention his impression that she’d been crying? He settled for what he hoped was a vaguely concerned tone. “Is everything okay?”
She wiped nonchalantly at her cheeks, as if smoothing away the effects of sleep rather than any hint of tears. “Oh, sure. It was just too quiet at my house tonight, so Dusty and I were keeping each other company. I guess I fell asleep.”
His cat had climbed on the arm of the couch and now demanded a greeting from him. Cole reached down to rub the tabby’s soft, pointed ears. “Did you give Stevie your sad-eyes act to keep her from leaving after she fed you? I bet you added a few of those pitiful meows you’ve perfected.”
Stevie wrinkled her nose with a little laugh. “I’m pretty sure she even threw in a couple of forlorn sniffles.”
He ran a hand absently down Dusty’s back, stopping to scratch at the base of the tail, a spot that always made his pet arch blissfully. “She’s shameless.”
“Yes, she is,” Stevie agreed, giving the tabby a fond smile.
Cole claimed occasionally that he’d bought the cat with the house. He’d lived here only a couple weeks when a pathetic kitten had appeared on his doorstep out of a winter rainstorm, wet and hungry and miserable. Hearing the meows, he’d opened the door to investigate and the little stray had darted past him into the living room. Other than visits to the vet, she hadn’t been outside since.
He’d planned initially to find a good home for the stray, but somehow she’d ended up staying. He and Dusty, who was named for her habit of emerging from under furniture with dust bunnies on her nose, got along like a couple of contented hermits. Still, it was always a treat for them when Stevie dropped by. Sometimes he thought they were both a little too eager for her visits.
Weren’t cats and computer analysts supposed to be contentedly independent and naturally aloof? He’d wondered more than once what sort of special magic Stevie wielded to enchant them so thoroughly, though he hoped he was a bit more discreet about his fascination with her than his pet. He treasured his unconventional friendship with Stevie too much to risk it with the awkwardness of an unrequited infatuation.
A data analyst for a national medical group, Cole worked primarily from home. He made a few business trips a year for planning and progress meetings, but mostly he communicated with the outside world via computer and smartphone.
His late wife had teasingly accused him of taking introversion to the extreme. But it wasn’t that he disliked people. He was just more comfortable with computers, especially since Natasha’s difficult illness.
It was suddenly very quiet in the room. Pushing thoughts of the painful past from his mind, he cleared his throat and glanced toward the window. “Sounds like the sleet has stopped. Maybe it’s finally changing over to snow. I’d rather have snow than ice.”
Stevie nodded with a bit too much enthusiasm for the banal comments. “No kidding. At least this weather hit on a Friday so most people don’t have to get out for work or school tomorrow. Not that local schools would be open, anyway. You know they close at the first sign of a snowflake. But still, I hope we get enough snow for the kids to build snowmen and have snowball fights. That’s not something they get to do very often around here, so they’ll want to make the most of it. I remember how disappointed I always was when we got all psyched up for snow and had to settle for just a dusting. Still, I hope it’s gone by Monday. I have a couple of meetings I’d really hate to have to put off.”
He chuckled, accustomed to her characteristic, stream-of-consciousness prattling. “Let’s hope there’s enough snow for the kids to enjoy over the weekend but that it melts quickly enough not to cause too many issues for the coming week.”
“That would work.” She smiled, but he had the distinct feeling something was wrong. For one thing, she was twisting a curl tightly around her fingertip, a nervous habit he’d noticed several times during the past few months.
Stevie was one of the most naturally effervescent women he’d ever known, outgoing and optimistic and a little quirky. She’d grown up in the comfortable bungalow on the corner lot next door in Little Rock, Arkansas. She’d been the first to welcome him to the street when he’d bought this house in the midtown neighborhood that was currently undergoing a revival after a decade-long slump. He’d made a tidy profit on the condo he’d sold last year, and he thought he’d do the same with this place if his needs changed again. Even better than that, he’d gained Stevie as a neighbor.
He wondered if it was only the bad weather that had left her free on a Friday night to keep his cat company and doze on his couch. As far as he knew, she hadn’t dated anyone since a breakup some three months ago. When they’d first met, he’d had designs on her, and maybe he’d even had a few fantasies about her since, but he’d never acted on any of them. She’d been involved with the hipster musician, which had made her off-limits. Not that he had a chance with her anyway.
Inherently candid, Stevie had once confessed to him during a rambling conversation that she had a lamentable weakness for footloose artists and musicians, a penchant that had left her soft heart bruised more than once. He’d gotten the message, whether intentional or
