When She's Wary (Risdaverse, #11)

by Ruby Dixon

I knock on her door. When she doesn’t answer right away, I knock a second time, and a third. When I raise my hand to the door a fourth time, I call out, “I’m not leaving until we talk, Barlia.” Before I can finish knocking, the door rips open and the human female glares out at me, her metal-studded wooden club in hand. “What.” “Hello, neighbor,” I purr at her. “What?” she states again, her tone hostile. What indeed? I just smile, because my true purpose was to come and see if she smelled as good as I remembered. Turns out she smells even better, and I want to just drink in her scent.

“I haven’t seen you around Port.” She rolls her eyes, relaxing again. “I don’t go to Port, not that it’s any of your business.” That’s strange. “Why not?” “I don’t trust it.” Barlia eyes me. “Are you just going to stand on my porch and quiz me?” “Can I come in?” “No.” “Then yes.” I grin at her, ignoring the look she shoots in my direction.

She arches one of those dark brows at me. “Is that a problem? Do I need to run my schedule past you?” My mouth twitches with amusement at the sass in her tone. “I’m just trying to get to know you, Barlia. Trying to understand what makes you purr. Don’t you ever get lonely out here by yourself?” “Don’t call me that name. It’s not my name.” “Then tell me your name.” “Will you go away if I do?” I incline my head in an almost-nod. I’m lying, though. I don’t plan on going anywhere. Not when she’s being such a hissy kitten. It’s so keffing adorable that I want to grab her and squeeze her against my chest.