Page 3 of Fool Me Twice
Hart widened his eyes. “That’s been going on for a week though.”
“Tell me about it.” Fix sighed. “I don’t know who’s more annoyed, the client, me, or Taylor. Anyway, I’m off.”
“Hard work puts you where luck can find you,” Hart called after him, smiling at Fix’s deep rumble of a laugh.
He heard his truck peel out of their driveway and stood up to tidy up the kitchen. He found the process of taking a mess and putting it in order so relaxing. Restoring something that had been in disarray. He let his mind wander while he did it, his actions meticulous enough that not a single drop of water touched his suit, despite the slight tremble of his fingers.
He wiped down the counter and stood back to admire how pristine it all looked again.
Hart heard the lazy thud of Wren’s feet before he saw him, turning around with a smile. “Why do you sound like an elephant coming down the stairs all of a sudden? Usually no one can…hear…you…”
Hart trailed off into nothingness, staring in shock as Wren entered the kitchen still basically asleep. His angular eyes were small slits of blue with dark circles around them, partially obscured by the cursemark surrounding his left one. The subtle green glow all cursemarks gave off through their winding tendrils was impossible to ignore, giving Wren’s left eye an ethereal cast.
His chin-length hair was all over the place, the single blond braid near his left temple that contrasted with his naturally black locks was hanging over his sleep-flushed cheek. He had another bandage to add to the ones he’d had before he left for his assignment, this one near his ear.
It was nothing out of the norm for him.
The fact that he was lying on top of a huge onyx jaguar with terrifying scars all over it was.
The thing rumbled as it spotted Hart, sinking lower as its yellow eyes fixed on Hart’s position like it was calculating the pounce distance. Hart was about to have a heart attack. The thing looked feral and wild. Powerful, whipcord-lean muscles stood out against ribs that could be seen through messy fur. The angry pink scars just made it look more dangerous.
“Please tell me that wasn’t in the house all night,” Hart whimpered.
Wren yawned, his full, doll-like lips stretching wide. He snuggled his pointy chin back into the black fur, blinking sleepily at Hart from between the jaguar’s ears. “He likes to cuddle.”
“With you! He could have eaten my face in my sleep,” Hart said, his voice rising in pitch and agitating the big cat, who began to stalk Hart around the room. Large paws flexed on the ground. “He looks like he’s thinking about it right now.”
Wren frowned, his eyes and lips down-turning as he cuddled the killing machine tightly while it glared at Hart. “You’re being mean.”
Hart put the kitchen island between them again, grabbing a stool as an extra defense. “Can you get it to stop?”
Wren sat up and tilted his head in confusion like the little bird he was named after, utterly unable to comprehend that there was anything wrong with this situation. “Stop what?”
“Get it to stop hunting me like I’m breakfast!”
“It’s because you’re giving off bad energy to him. He’s a good boy who needs love.” Wren put his small, sharp nose in the air, genuinely upset with Hart.
Hart groaned internally. Wren had the superpower of making anyone give in to anything he wanted. His delicate build and doll-like features, plus his unassuming goodness had most of them wrapped around his fingers.
“I…apologize.”
“His name is Sable.”
“Ah.” Hart choked. “Lovely.”
Wren cleared his throat, looking at him pointedly. Hart had the realization that he was waiting for him to apologize to the jaguar personally.
“Pride makes us artificial, and humility makes us real.”
“I apologize…Sable.”
Wren grinned, eyes turning to happy half circles. He bent down and pressed a smacking kiss to the murderous feline’s head, following it up with a hundred more loving pecks. The jaguar rumbled and stopped stalking Hart, sinking to the floor to lick his dinner-plate-size paw as Wren showered him with affection.
“Why didn’t you take him back to the sanctuary?” Hart asked now that the danger had mostly passed. “We have rules, Wren. On a board for everyone to see. No animals taller than knee height allowed permanent residence in the house.”
“He’s not taller than Ash’s knees!” Wren said, eyeing the board with distaste.
Hart huffed. “Ash is a tree. He doesn’t count. Sable is literally above your waist. You need to find a new home for it.”