Page 5 of Bread by the Grim (Ghostlight Falls #4)

Grim

P hil’s cat has been hissing and meowing this whole time, but chooses that exact moment to decide it has had enough.

It starts to fight its way out of her arms as we make it to the last of the steps.

I can hear his angry meows turn into hisses as I make it to the bottom.

Phil’s only a few steps above me, struggling to keep the cat in her arms.

“No, Doux!” I hear her scold before she lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a squeak and a cry.

I turn just in time to see her falling towards me as the cat launches himself past my feet.

Everything moves in slow motion for a moment as I drop the suitcases and reach out to stop her from hitting her head on the concrete floor at the bottom.

It’s not graceful like in the movies—she ends up just inches from the floor, my hands under her neck and back like the lowest of dips in a dance gone horribly wrong .

For the longest moment, neither one of us moves. Then, she looks up at me through long lashes and laughs. “My ass is going to hurt like hell later.”

I clear my throat. I haven’t been this close to her yet, but with just inches between us, the scent of her is overwhelming.

She smells like sugar cookies with extra vanilla before they’ve been baked.

The scent clings in the air. It fills my nostrils and makes my head spin.

“Sorry about your, uh, ass.” I manage to tell her, looking away as my dick grows hard.

Thank the gods it wasn’t a sweatpants day.

“Oh no, thank you. Good catch. I would have had much bigger problems if you hadn’t been so quick,” she says as I help her back to a standing position.

My heart is still racing. I’d forgotten all about the mystery of the basement.

There’s a separate light at the bottom of the stairs.

I flip it on, and we step into the basement at the same time.

Doux is already standing in the middle of the room, nonchalantly cleaning his paw like he didn’t just try to kill his owner.

Bernice has definitely made her mark on the space. It is absolutely nothing like it was the last time I came down here. For one, it’s clean.

For years, the basement has been the catch-all of the building, full not only of my crap but the previous owner’s as well.

Now, there are labeled boxes in the corner with my name on them.

The rest of the room has been made into a large studio apartment.

It’s not new, but it’s definitely livable.

There’s a large old gray sofa that Doux is already testing his claws on and a queen-sized bed with a patchwork quilt covering it that I could have sworn I’ve seen hanging on the back of Bernice’s couch.

The tiny three-quarter bath has been scrubbed clean.

The wet bar has a mini-fridge underneath the counter and a hot plate and microwave on top.

I have no idea where any of this came from. None of this is mine.

“How the hell?” I find myself muttering aloud.

Phil chuckles. “So...I’m guessing it hasn’t always looked like this?”

I shake my head and run my hand through my hair, turning in a circle one more time.

It’s hard to believe that Bernice did all this without my knowing.

When did she have the time and the money?

Was it specifically for Phil, knowing she was on her way, or had she been preparing to retire for a while and hoped to make it easier for me to find someone?

“Man, that’s wild. Maybe she had someone come by when you were asleep. Are you a hard sleeper?”

I don’t know how to answer that, so I just nod.

“So,” Phil says, rubbing her hands together.

“So?” I repeat, feeling lost.

She smiles. “Should we get started?”

“Uh–it’s a little late for donuts, and I’m not dressed.”

She shrugs. “I came to work. Point me in the direction of things, and I can at least get some basics prepped for you.”

“I, uh...sure.”

Her eyes meet mine, and she smiles as she moves past me to get to her luggage.

“Sorry, I just need to get past you.” I turn, trying to press myself against the wall as the smell of vanilla rushes over me again.

I get that itchy-achy feeling down my spine—the one that happens right before I shift.

I close my eyes and breathe slowly. I’m not angry.

I’m not upset. Why does her scent make me want to shift so badly? What the fuck is wrong with me?