Page 88 of Swept Away

In the kitchen, I look for Gizmo.

“Gemma?” he barks from the doorway, and my finger shoots up.

“You have no right to question me. We are not together or something. You didn’t give me any details when you left last week. I didn’t even know whether you’d be back or not. To me, you and your friend were nothing more than two men I had some fun time with.”

He walks toward the middle of the room.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Seriously. I don’t like you when you’re like that,” I say, irritated that I cannot find my cat. “Has any of you seen Gizmo?” I ask in a different voice, truly worried. “Was he here when you got in? And how did you get in, by the way? Did you break in or something?” I ask, remembering that I haven’t seen signs of breaking and entering.

Their silence makes me shift my gaze up.

“How did you get in, Mason?” I bark.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “The cat wasn’t in.”

His answer makes a cold shiver sweep through my bones.

“Well, the window was locked, so unless someone else had broken in before you did, he must be in the house. And you two better find him.”

Carter spins around and starts looking for him while Mason closes the distance between us.

“I can’t tell you everything we do, Gemma. It’s not because I don’t want to. It’s better that way. It’s safer.”

I mull over his answer.

“Great. But then don’t come back to me and act all pissed because I’m not where you left me.”

“Where were you?” he asks in a heavy voice.

I study him for a few seconds.

“I spent the evening at my aunt’s place.”

He has a lifted eyebrow, his expression frozen.

“What’s in that box?” he asks, tilting his head toward the hallway outside.

“It’s a gift. Today’s my birthday.”

Finally, his expression thaws, a smile flickering through his eyes.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“I found him,” Carter says from the doorway. “He was sleeping in the bedroom. Where do you want me to put him?”

I take the kitten from him and pet it while I turn to them.

“Today’s her birthday,” Mason says, and Carter’s face lights up.

“No way.”

I don’t react.

“Today’s her birthday,” Mason continues, “and she’s mad at us.”