‘Sheisannoying,’ Sam mumbled, a streak of red appearing across his cheekbones as he bent to scratch Salem behind the ears. ‘That doesn’t mean I want to see her hacked to pieces. I’d do the same for anyone.’
Rob doubted that. He doubted that Sam would overreact in this way if it were that pretentious bitch he’d brought to the dinner party who was in trouble.
‘Have you two finished with your lovers tiff yet?’ Goodie asked impatiently, crossing her arms and tapping her toe. Salem’s ears pricked up. ‘Who am I hunting then?’ Goodie asked.
Rob sighed. ‘Goodie, it’ll be tracking not hunting ... this is South Wales, not Afghanistan.’
*****
Red-faced, Katie finally stumbled to her feet to look in the full-length mirror in her bedroom, kicking piles of clothes out of her way so that she could see the boots to compare. One foot was shod in a sensible UGG boot with a good grip on the sole; the other was a leather FMB with a four-inch heel. The FMB had taken the best part of twenty minutes to get on, so despite the carpet of snow and ice outside she would probably have to go with the least sensible option (that, and the fact that she was not in the mood to look like a hobbit, even if she was only going to the church hall). Just as she was about to begin her search for the matching boot, the doorbell rang. After scrabbling around for another minute or so on the floor of her wardrobe, it went again. She sighed, and gave up the search to limp downstairs.
‘What the … ?’ she exclaimed when she’d pulled open the front door to be confronted with Sam’s large frame filling her tiny porch. ‘I mean … um … hi.’ She did a pathetic little finger wave at him, feeling totally intimidated. His face was blank of all emotion, but that was what she had come to expect from him; then for some bizarre reason he turned to look at where her hand was resting next to the lock on the inside of the door, and he scowled at it.
‘Can I … ?’ Katie began, but was cut off when he took a step inside and she had to limp backwards. Once she had backed away from the door he shut it behind him and turned to look at the lock again.
‘Unbelievable,’ he muttered under his breath, and Katie’s eyebrows drew together. When he got over his random bout of anger at her door, he directed his furious expression at her. Katie hadn’t quite salvaged her hair situation after her scoot back from work. She was well aware that curls were sticking up all over the place like an electrocuted poodle. She had her short, bright blue jumper-dress on, with thick purple tights, but as his gaze swept over the entire crazy ensemble he stopped at her feet. His lips twitched in what might just have been a small smile before he masked it. Katie pushed her curls out of her eyes, securing her hair behind her ears, and then crossed her arms defensively over her chest, all the while balancing on the high-heeled boot to gain some much needed height, whilst her UGG-clad foot dangled in mid air. Once his eyes had made their way back to hers, he had blanked his expression again.
‘I’ve come to look at your alarm system,’ he said.
‘Um … my alarm system?’ Katie asked, scrunching her nose in confusion. Sam’s eyes dropped to her scrunched nose, and then she noticed his jaw clench hard and his hands ball into fists at his sides. ‘I don’t have an alarm system,’ she told him, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze.
‘Yeah, but you will,’ he said, moving through to her tiny living-room area, where he picked up one of her cat-themed throw cushions and stared at it. With perfect timing Lady Mufflington le Foof came strolling into the room and started winding his way around Sam’s legs. Sam looked from the cushion to Lady and back again.
‘Why is this ugly cat’s face on every piece of soft furnishing you have?’ he asked – and it was obviousagainthat he was fighting a smile.
‘Lady Muff is not ugly,’ Katie objected, sweeping the big ball of ginger fur up into her arms defensively, then watching in utter fascination as Sam lost his battle and a huge smile broke out across his face.
Having always found Sam a bit threatening, and having never seen him sport such a wide smile, Katie was unprepared for how it transformed his face. Before, she had always been able to see that he was attractive: dark hair cropped short, dark eyes, weathered skin but in a good way, permanent dark stubble across his strong jaw, only interrupted by a thick scar curving from the corner of his eye, down through his cheek and into his neck. Yes, okay, objectively he was pretty lush; but the grim set of his features, his sheer bulk and the animosity he always seemed to emanate around her meant that Katie had viewed him as vaguely menacing rather than pin-up material. But on seeing his face lit with a wide smile, she actually took a small step back with the impact of how handsome he was underneath the intimidating aura.
‘Your pussy-cat is called Lady Muff?’
‘Um …’ Katie fought against her sluggish brain, which was still struggling to process Sam’s beauty. What had he asked? ‘Um … well …’ Sam glanced down at Lady, raising an eyebrow. Ah yes – the cat. ‘His official title is Lady Mufflington le Foof,’ she told him, and then watched in fascination as his chest started moving with silent laughter, before an actual chuckle escaped his lips. Achuckle. Before this last week, Katie hadn’t even been aware that Sam had the capacity to smile, leave alone chuckle. What on earth was going on?
‘Hewasnamed Tigs, but Russell had him whilst I was away on hols and decided to rename him. When I got back, Lady wouldn’t respond to anything else. Makes it a bit uncomfortable when I have to shout for him out the back door, but then that was what Russell was going for, the evil bastard.’ Sam chuckled again, still staring at Lady Muff’s squashed face. ‘– What are you doing here?’ Katie blurted out, then felt her chest constrict as she watched the amusement drain from Sam’s features. In that moment she realized that she would give anything to make him laugh again. Although why, she had no idea.
‘I told you,’ he said, moving through the living room into the small kitchen area and then inspecting the back door, with another furious scowl on his face. ‘I’m sorting out your security.’
‘But … but what’s it got to do with you?’
I mean, Katie thought, we aren’t exactly best buds. Why should he be bothered about my home security?
‘Look,’ he said impatiently, pulling on the flimsy, glass back door and scowling even more furiously when the lock gave way and the door popped open. ‘I’m doing a favour for Rob and Sarah, okay? They can’t sort this shit out; they’ve got enough on their plates with the baby coming and the firm expanding.’
‘They’ve never been fussed about my security before,’ Katie told him.
‘You want me to ring them?’ he asked, shoving the door back into the frame in disgust. ‘You want me to tell them that you’re not happy about me sorting this lot out? Have to tell you, I think that pregnant nutcase is pretty close to the edge as it is. Extra crap to deal with like this could push her over it.’
Katie pulled her lips between her teeth, trying to decide the best course of action. No way did she want Sarah any more stressed; she would agree that she wasn’t far from blowing. Sam focused for a moment on her mouth until she released her lips. She watched the muscle in his jaw tick again, before he turned away and strode to her back door. He pulled a tape measure out of his pocket and started measuring the door, then took out his phone and typed something into it. All the while shaking his head and looking supremely pissed off. He then skirted around Katie like she was diseased to walk back through the living room to the front door and repeat the process, with Katie limping along behind him.
‘May I ask what exactly you think you are doing?’ Katie said, releasing a now squirming Lady Muff, who leapt down onto the floor with a loud thud and made his way over to Sam to resume winding around his legs. Obese traitor, Katie thought furiously, whilst Sam surprised her by reaching down to rub Lady behind her ears as the sounds of her chainsaw-like purring filled the room.
‘Measuring the doors,’ Sam said slowly, like she was some sort of mental deficient.
‘I can see that,’ Katie replied, fighting to control her temper. ‘Why are you measuring my doors?’
‘So I can replace them,’ Sam told her, moving on to her windows. Katie started shaking her head, and then realized his back was turned to her and he couldn’t see her negative response.
‘You’re not replacing my doors,’ she told him, her mouth setting in a stubborn line and her shoulders straightening. It was, however, tricky to look dignified and determined when balancing on one precariously high heel. ‘Look, I don’t know why you’re here but you can’t stay; I’m going out.’ That seemed to get his attention and he spun round from the window to frown at her.
