Page 33 of Lost and Found

I glance at my watch. I should probably just go to the bakery and get something there. It'll be quicker. But they rarely have cherry pasties of any kind because their resident baker hates cherries.

And if I go somewhere else, I won't be able to prove my theory that Dani Weston is bad for business and my brother should fire her at once.

The line moves surprisingly quickly, and no one steps up behind me. It's getting late in the morning, most people heading off to work. My day is starting with a nine o'clock meeting, so I have time.

The crowd around the coffee counter disperses as people move on to browse the shelves or hurry off to jobs that start before eight-thirty.

By the time I get up to the counter, the place has gone weirdly quiet. People speak in hushed voices like they're in a library instead of a bookstore.

"Good morning, Ranger," Dani looks up at me, her smile so wide it makes me nervous. Her displays of pastries are considerably smaller than they were when I stepped into line, but, thankfully, there are two cherry danishes left.

"You can call me, Grant."

She shrugs. "I prefer Ranger. What would you like this morning? I've got cherry muffins, cherry croissants, cherry danishes, and cherry turnovers. A smorgasbord of opportunities to pop your cherry for homemade cherry baked goods."

I stare, my stomach growling, my mouth watering, a part of me wanting to laugh but another part sure I must be the butt of this joke. "Are you fucking with me?"

Her eyes light with amusement and I get more suspicious. "I am not fucking with you, Ranger. This is a peace offering. Lazarus couldn't tell me exactly what sort of cherry pastry you prefer." She wrinkles her nose. "That thing he buys you from the store is called a cherry breakfast pastry." She shakes her head, eyes wide. "That's literally what it says on the box and the thing in the box resembles nothing I've ever made and tastes like…" She wrinkles her nose again. "Honestly, if that's the sort of thing you like, I doubt you'll like anything I make, but I tried. I made you every cherry flavored pastry I could think of on short notice. If you don't like any of these, I'll try something else."

She has an adorable nose. It turns up at the end and when she scrunches it up… What is wrong with me? "I hope you are more considerate of your customer base in the future." I hardly understand the words coming out of my mouth. This woman undoes me. "Not everyone likes cherry and if everyone thinks all you're going to be making every day is—"

"Tomorrow is blueberry. The next day is apple. People like to know what to expect and it will give me an idea of what's most popular. Lazy thinks it's a great idea. I was going to make your cherry pastry regardless of what else is on the menu, based on what you like here today, but if you're going to be rude, you can forget about it."

"I'm sorry." She's obviously trying and I'm most definitely being an ass, especially surrounded by all her cherry pastries made just for me. "That was rude of me."

"It was." She waves a hand over the various treats, and I notice her small, delicate fingers as she moves them over the pastries. Fingers that are now by her side and behind her…

"Is that a skunk?" Curled up in a far corner, behind the counter, is a furry black and white animal sleeping on a pile of blankets.

Dani's eyes widen and then narrow. "It's a cat. My cat."

As though it can hear us talking about it, the small animal lifts its pointy snout and blinks at me, then it shifts around on the blankets and settles back down. "That is definitely a skunk. Where did it come from? Do you know it's illegal to keep a skunk as a pet in Virginia? And it's illegal everywhere to take a skunk from the wild and make it a pet."

She pops her hands on her hips and glares at me. "It's a cat."

"Do you even know if it's rabid? Lazy can't have a potentially rabid skunk running around his bookstore."

Dani leans across the counter. "Skidmark is a cat. And he won't be running anywhere because he has no back legs, and he's nocturnal."

"Ha," I say, pointing at her. "Cats aren't nocturnal. That's a skunk."

She doesn't back down, in fact her eyes practically flame with defiance. "Well, this cat is nocturnal. Skidmark is a special cat."

"Skidmark is a skunk. And I'm going to need to know… Wait, why is its name Skidmark?"

She wraps her arms around herself. "I hit him with my car. That's how he lost his legs."

I stare at her. "You hit him with your car and you named him Skidmark?"

She pops her fists back onto her hips. "Are you going to tell me that's illegal too?"

I shake my head. It's too early for this, and I need fuel after my morning run. "Look, I need to get to work. Just don't bring the skunk back to the bookstore and we can discuss this later."

"He needs to be with me. We're soul mates and he doesn't do well without me around."

"Soul mates?" A lead weight drops into my center. "You can't be soul mates with a skunk."

She shrugs. "First, Skidmark is a cat. Second, I saved his life, so our souls are bonded."