Careful What You Kiss For by Jane Lynne Daniels Read Free Book Online Page A

Scarlet Letter. One of her books from high school. She ran a finger down the cover, reveling in its familiarity, the connection to her past. She hadn’t seen this book in years. For a moment, she clutched it to her chest and then set it down in her lap. It opened to a page that had obviously been read many times.
    Something soft brushed up against her leg. “Not now, Gemini,” she whispered, eyes still on the book.
    Her head jerked up. Tensley looked down at the cat rubbing against her leg. Gemini. Of course. The cat’s markings divided its face into two halves. She started to lower her fingers, but pulled them back. She wasn’t sneezing. Strange. A cat had never been this close to her before without her eyes tearing and her nose seizing up.
    Maybe her allergy had fled her body, along with her clothes.
    This time, she let her fingers make it the full distance to stroke the soft fur. “I get it. You’re like your name, aren’t you? Wanted to kill me a few minutes ago and now you want to be my best friend.”
    An assenting meow.
    And still no sneezing. She let her fingers remain in the cat’s fur, where they moved to rubbing behind the ears in a motion so familiar, she felt as though she’d done it a hundred times. Gemini accepted the attention, eyes closed and chin lifted.
    Tensley had redeemed herself. For what, she wasn’t sure. But it felt good. Calming. She had a cat.
    As soon as her eyes returned to the book’s pages, one passage leaped out at her. Possibly because it had been circled in red in what had to be her own scrawl. A circle with ends that crossed over each other, instead of closing. She’d never been able to draw one that closed properly. Taking a deep breath, she read Nathaniel Hawthorne’s prose:
    The scarlet letter was her passport into regions where other women dared not to tread. Shame, Despair, Solitude! These had been her teachers — stern and wild ones — and they had made her strong, but taught her much amiss.
    Much amiss .
    Well, that was one way to put it.
    • • •
    The knocking sound became louder, stirring Tensley’s brain into a series of question marks. What — ? Was that — ? Why … ?
    When the knocking turned into a full-fledged pounding, she opened her eyes, wincing at the sunlight flooding through the windows. A dizzying disorientation overtook her when she saw a sofa, candles and lamps she didn’t recognize. Then came the pounding again. On the door. Of the apartment. She shoved herself to her feet, a book … The Scarlet Letter … falling to the floor with a thud.
    Ow. Her legs were stiff. She’d fallen asleep. Not curled up and tucked in, but with her feet flat, her arms on the chair. Her arms were protesting, too. Ouch . Who was making all that noise?
    Eyes still heavy with sleep, Tensley stumbled toward the door, every other step a trip-walk, at best. Gemini the cat ran in front of her and the toe of Tensley’s sneaker missed landing on the long tail by less than an inch. Gemini voiced high-pitched disapproval.
    “Yeah, get in line,” Tensley muttered to the cat, ready to lay into whoever was on the other side of the door. As much as she could lay into someone, anyway, with her brain foggy, her stomach rumbling, her eyes half-closed and her cat ready to take her out.
    She threw open the door.
    Max lowered his hand from the knocking position, flexing his fingers. “Good morning.”
    She leaned against the doorjamb and stared at him, trying to decide if he was in her dream, she was in his dream, or it was something in between. She hadn’t seen Max in fifteen years and four months and now she’d seen him twice in less than twenty-four hours.
    What did she even say? Something brilliant and witty.
    “How did you get into a secured building?” So much for brilliant and witty.
    He lifted one shoulder. “I have my ways.” Then he extended the other hand forward.
    In it he held — God help her — a Tupperware container. With its lid firmly on.
    “Can I come