Page 22 of To Catch a Latte Thick as Thieves

Setting the table down, she turned to him and said, “I don’t believe in them.”

“You’re joking?” he asked hopefully.

“No,” she said and moved on to fix other furniture. Fisher moved along beside her, helping her. I don’t believe in guns. I don’t believe people should carry weapons of any kind.”

“But what about protection?”

“I don’t want to live in a world where I feel I need to carry a weapon if I’m by myself,” she said. “I won’t do it.”

“What if some scumbag broke in here or came in because you forgot to lock the door and attacked you?”

“So, I shoot him?” she asked. “Doesn’t that reduce me to his level? Doesn’t that make me just as much of an animal as he is?”

“No, you’d be protecting yourself,” he said.

“No, I’d be murdering someone,” she argued.

“And you call me the ‘good or bad, right or wrong, no maybes type of guy’?” he asked. “Annie, this is serious. This guy could come back. You have to take some precautions.”

She met his gaze and the fear in her eyes was as tangible as the destruction they stood in. She was wrestling with her beliefs and her fears. He hated to be the one to force her to choose, but he would if he had to.

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

“That’s all I ask,” he lied. “In the meantime, I’m just across the hall. If you need anything or if you hear anything come get me.”

“All right,” she agreed, but he knew she was fibbing. Cupping her chin, he frowned at her. “I mean it. Promise me you’ll come to me if you’re frightened.”

“What if it’s just a mouse?” she asked and then smiled. “Not that I have any in the shop.”

“Of course not,” he agreed. “But if you did, then I’d get one of those humanitarian traps and haul it away for you.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice as soft as a whisper.

“You’re welcome,” he said, hugging her close.

She felt right in his arms and he knew he could have held her like this for hours. How had this happened? How had she charmed him so thoroughly in such a short span of time? She nestled closer to him and Fisher felt his body tighten. Just the scent of her stirred him. He let his hand stroke down her back. She’d stopped shaking and he told himself it was just a hug of comfort, but he knew it was something more.

He’d protect her. He’d catch the bad guys. And then he’d tell her who and what he was. He could only hope she didn’t kick him in the teeth – or lower – when he did.

“Come on, you’ve got a wedding tomorrow,” he said and led her from the shop.

“You’re right,” she sighed. “I’ll have to close the shop tomorrow. There’s just not enough time to set it right before we open. I hope my staff is happy about having the unexpected holiday.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” he said, leading her towards her apartment.

“I hope so.” She stopped in front of her door. “Fisher?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for everything.”

“Any time,” he said and meant it. He waited while she let herself into her apartment. When she didn’t reappear, he let himself into his own place.

Crossing to Harpy’s cage, he opened the door. “Well, Harpy, what do we do now?”