The Trouble with Mistletoe

“I know.” Her voice sounded a little faint. “I’m out front, may I come in?”

“Yes, of course.” Was she kidding? She was here to pick up Pita and for that he’d roll out the red carpet. “You didn’t have to call first—”

“I didn’t want to interrupt any . . . meetings you might have had. With women.”

He choked back a laugh as he moved through the house toward the front. What was it with people thinking he had a lineup of chicks every night? “I’ll make sure to keep all the women locked up in the bedroom while you’re here,” he said.

She gasped in his ear.

“I’m kidding, Aunt Sally. It’s just me.” Not that he wouldn’t mind having Willa sprawled out in his bed right about now . . .

He opened the door. Sally was bundled up in a thick coat, hat, scarf, gloves, and boots, and since she was under five feet tall, she looked a bit like a hobbit. Hat quivering, she walked ahead of him into the foyer and then stopped abruptly, her back to him as she studied his place.

“It’s beautiful,” she said softly. “You do beautiful work. I never understood your parents’ contempt for what you do with your bare hands.”

Leaving him stunned, she called for the cat. “Petunia, darling, come to Mommy.”

Pita came running, eyes bright, a happy chirp escaping her, the same sound she used with Willa too.

Old woman and cat had a long hug and then his aunt finally straightened slowly, her back still to him.

There was an awkward silence that he had no idea how to broach. It was safe to say he didn’t know his own parents all that well. Yes, they’d raised him. Somewhat. But the truth was he’d been a latchkey kid who’d spent most of his time at sporting events, with friends, or in front of a gaming system. When he’d turned eighteen and moved out, there’d been a blast of overwhelming relief from his parents. They’d been virtual strangers to each other and in the years since they hadn’t gotten to know each other any better.

He knew his aunt even less. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

She was silent for a long moment. “Do you ever have regrets about our family?” she asked instead of answering. “How little we all bother with each other?”

One thing the Winterses didn’t do was discuss feelings. Ever. In fact, they buried them deep and pretended they didn’t exist. So he stared at her stiff spine, an uncomfortable feeling swirling in his gut.

She sighed. “Right. Listen, I’m sorry about this, Keane.”

Oh shit. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

She stayed where she was but he realized her shoulders were a little slumped as she pulled open her large handbag. From it, she pulled out a plastic Ziploc baggie filled with what were unmistakably cat toys. “For Petunia,” she said.

“But—”

“And I’ve got her special blankie too. She’ll need it for nap times.”

“Aunt Sally.” Gently he turned her to face him. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t take her back yet.” Her rheumy blue eyes went suspiciously watery. “I need you to keep her a little bit longer. Do you think you can do that without selling her?”

“I was kidding about that.” Mostly. As for the question of could he handle Pita . . . He’d handled a lot of shit in his life so theoretically he could handle one little cat.

And then there was the built-in bonus—he’d have a reason for Willa to let him back into her shop, and yeah, he was pretty sure he needed to give her a reason. “Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about.” She reached up to pat his head like he was a child, but being a whole lot shorter than him she had to settle for an awkward pat to his forearm. “I’m having some cat food delivered,” she said. “Petunia needs routine.”

“And what do you need?”

She inhaled a shaky breath. “I need to make this transition as easy as possible for her.”

Keane took her small, frail hand in his much bigger one. “Done. But now you, Aunt Sally. What can I do for you?”

There was another long pause and then a suspicious sniff, and in the way of men everywhere the world over, his heart froze in utter terror.

“I didn’t know you as a child,” she said quietly. “And that was my own doing. Nor did I bother with you when you got older, not until I needed you anyway. And that’s also my shame.” She squeezed his fingers. “You’re a good man, Keane Winters, and you deserved better from me. From all of us. I’ve got no right to ask this of you, but please. Please take care of my baby.”

And then she was gone.

He turned and stared down at the cat, who stared right back. “I think we’re stuck with each other now.”

Her eyes said she was unimpressed. And then she turned and, with her tail high in the air, stalked off.

“No more yakking in my bedroom, you hear me?” he called after her.

And shit, now he was talking to a cat. Shaking his head at himself, he shoved his feet into his running shoes—his new running shoes since Pita had taken a dump in his beloved, perfectly broken-in ones two weeks before—and hit the concrete.

He didn’t have a set route. Running was for clearing his brain, and he let his feet take him where they wanted to go. Sometimes that was along the Embarcadero, or through Fort Mason. Or the Presidio, or the Lyon Street steps.

Today it was Cow Hollow.

He wanted to talk to Archer, wanted to make sure he was doing something about Ethan contacting Willa. All Keane knew of Archer was that the guy clearly took care of his own, and he did consider Willa one of his own. He’d seen that firsthand at the dog wedding.

Keane didn’t expect Archer to be at work this early. He assumed he’d have to leave a message. But when he got to the Pacific Pier Building and took the stairs to Archer’s second-floor offices, Archer was standing in the front room with Elle, the both of them staring down at an iPad screen together. There were two other men, one younger with a Doberman at his side, the other dressed like he’d just come back from a takedown, complete with more than one gun. He was talking when Keane entered, pointing at the iPad as if explaining something.

Archer lifted his head, eyes intense and hard. Whatever he’d been looking at had pissed him off. It clearly wasn’t a good time but Keane didn’t care. “About that text Willa got last night from her asshole ex,” he said.