Chimera and the Cat Burglar (FUC Academy #46)

Chapter 4

Chapter

Four

With the status of Zeb’s medical condition unknown, Boo forced herself to take a seat to the right of Willy in the corner booth inside the local diner, the night darkening their cozy seating arrangement. She willed herself to accept they had to work together if they wanted results, which meant she needed to get comfortable with Willy to the point of passing off their fake engagement.

The overhead light illuminated his chiseled jawline and high cheekbones, giving him movie-star looks she hadn’t noticed under the moonlight.

It was funny how life repeatedly switched things up. Willy threatened her best-laid plans of perpetual celibacy. Her body thrummed in his presence, despite her foiled plot to steal the artifact. “I know more about the ar-tion, er, I mean, artifact and auction and its players.”

Did she stumble on her words?

She was doomed to fail in their mission if she didn’t pull her scruff together. “Which is why I think it best that I lead.”

Willy scoffed and set his coffee cup on the table, dark-roasted liquid rushing over the sides and pooling in the saucer. “Why? Alyce assigned us this together, presumably as partners. One not superior to the other, considering we’re both cadets of the same level.”

Fighting for leadership would foil her plans. She worked best alone, but if she was forced to work with a partner, she needed to be sure he wouldn’t go off half-cocked. “We won’t find anything if you go in there all cocky and willy-nilly.”

“So that’s your technical term for how you think I’ll charge in?” Willy jiggled the table, his outstretched legs finding a rhythm against the table’s legs.

He was hiding his frustration about as well as she was, her fingers tapping the edge of her plate. Boo had plotted every itsy-bitsy detail of her heist, and she hadn’t been prepared for things to go so awry. She didn’t want her assignment to go just as badly. “If you hadn’t chased the original thief, Zeb wouldn’t be where he is now, and we wouldn’t have to pull off this PDA spectacle.”

“I’m a spectacle?” Willy scoffed.

“You know what I mean,” Boo countered. “This engagement farce is a spectacle.”

“And you think I’m the reason Zeb is down? Do you think I forgot that you were out there chasing the thief too? Or are you saying that you would have caught them, while I would have failed?”

“You did mistake me for the thief and tackle me, which thwarted both of our efforts,” she pointed out.

They stopped talking as the diner server placed Boo’s veggie pot pie in front of her.

When she left, Willy continued, “You just keep negatively labeling me at every turn. But you’re mistaken. You’re mad at the wrong person. We’re both running after the same thing, which means we’ll achieve our goal of finding the statue faster if we work together without any power struggle.”

Boo tried not to roll her eyes. The confines of the corner booth crushed in on her, but she willed her quickened breath and frayed nerves to calm. Willy gave her plenty of space by sitting on the adjacent side, nearest to the window while she sat against the solid wall as if the sturdiness became her spine.

He’d always been respectful at least, if also a bit reserved. And he was right. They both wanted the statue returned to its rightful owner. “I promised Alyce I’d stick to the plan, but I didn’t expect she’d force us to pair up in this way.”

Boo held up her ringed finger and tipped her body away from Willy. They were far from convincing anyone they were happily and blissfully engaged because she was fighting their union like an alley cat and a raccoon over pepperoni spoils behind a pizzeria.

She righted herself and dug into her steaming pot pie. “I don’t like any part of this forced situation. I mean I don’t know how to do this couple thing. I’ve always charged my own path.”

Willy waited until the server set down his waffles and a tall stack of sizzling vegan bacon. The bacon was so crisp that it shattered when he cut through the stacks. The bits sprinkled his over-medium eggs, which sat atop his tall stack of waffles as ordered. Amber maple syrup dribbled down the side.

He chewed around his mouthful. “You’ve not always been so singular. We made a good team once, and we’ll find our way again. We’ll fool everyone if we practice touching, hugging, making out, yada yada.”

Yada, yada?

Boo was in the middle of drinking her iced latte, and she spat the beverage across the table.

Of course, Willy was right there, having jumped from his side of the booth. He stood over her, consoling her, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with his napkin and probably thinking she had a choking condition that required medical attention.

His suggestion to practice and his touch felt too intimate, hackles sprouting on her nape.

Boo had walled herself off entirely. The barrier encapsulating her heart had been impenetrable. Until now. Until Willy’s tenderness attempted to break her. What would happen if she unleashed unresolved feelings centered around him?

She waved him off. “I’m fine. You can sit.”

“You’re nervous. As stressed as a mouse wrapped in sticky tape. We can return to Alyce and tell her we can’t do this.” He retook his seat and lifted his brows, waiting for her to answer.

His concern made her question her confidence. “I don’t need coddling every ten seconds. I’m okay. I’m perfectly righty-ho with this assignment. Confident.”

“Are you sure?” Willy reached for her arm.

She flinched and regretted her reaction. She wasn’t the same person. Or rather, she was still angry at the world for punishing her for doing the right thing: returning her family heirlooms to their rightful owners.

If caught pilfering again, Boo was looking at a decades-long prison term.

She’d just have to not get caught.

She’d find the thief and take the artifact from them to return it to its rightful place. But to pull it off, she’d have to lean into the fake relationship… and allow Willy to touch more than her face and arms.

She sighed and admitted what was bothering her the most. “What if I screw this up? I going to cross paths with people from my past who recognize me, and I can’t guarantee a smooth reaction.”

Though she kept an apartment in her old town, she had managed to keep a low profile, spending most of her time at the Academy and most certainly never going near any of the underground auctions she once frequented.

“You’re not the same rash girl you were in high school.” Willy had returned to his seat, where he now jammed another forkful into his mouth.

She wished she was as sure. She wasn’t rash enough to do anything without giving it serious thought after the blunder today. She had to be careful at the auction. She had to present as if she were high society instead of a convicted felon.

Willy was quiet. She expected some comeback, but perhaps they each had people they never expected to cross paths with again, in his case, the doctor who’d turned him into a chimera.

She was sure Willy was in the clear. Steel bars imprisoned DIC. He held no more significance in Willy’s future.

Turning her thoughts to the task instead of the trail of shit she’d dragged with her to the Academy, she asked, “So this practice… What do you have in mind?”

He took a long swig of his coffee, wiped his mouth with another clean paper napkin, and set both aside. He extended his hand in her direction, palm up and his fingers beckoning Boo to take a chance. “How about we start with you not choking every time I touch you.”

She flicked her eyes to Willy’s. It was the first time she’d noticed that even his brown gaze held a depth it had lacked when they were dating. There was much she didn’t know about Willy, the man, the chimera, the FUCN’A cadet acting as an agent. “You noticed?”

He stretched his hand toward her another inch, his one bent pinky failing to fully extend. “You’re wound so tight I’m afraid we’ll derail this mission before we start. Why don’t we take a step in the right direction?”

Willy wasn’t wrong about her tension. In a black-market auction like this one, they had to choreograph their moves like they’d been intimate for years, and not years ago, if they were to be invited to private events.

She analyzed his massive palm and thick fingers. It’s only a hand. It’s harmless.

Yet, tremors riddled her, keeping her from remembering how safe and secure Willy had once made her feel. It had taken her four long years to feel secure in her world, albeit without anyone watching her back, something she longed for.

Willy may have matured, his mutations making him bulkier than she remembered, but he was still Willy inside. He was still the man she’d crushed on so hard in high school and the man she’d thought she’d marry. Now, he was asking for her consent.

She took a breath, trapping it behind her lips, and placed her hand in his, taking a chance on them and their assignment. His skin was hot to the touch but dry. He ran a thumb over the top of her hand, drawing lazy circles over the peaks and valleys.

She felt confidence in those hands, and his fingers had once orchestrated her body to perfection. “You’re warm.”

“A cozy one-hundred-and-eight-degrees Fahrenheit.” He closed her petite hand in his larger one and tugged her closer. “I know you find it hard to trust me, but I won’t disappoint you. Promise.”

No one could guarantee a future without disappointment.

Willy’s warmth settled Boo’s nerves, but she couldn’t be sure if Willy would accept her if he found out she wanted to steal the statue for herself, but that was neither here nor there. She had to become comfortable with him so they could get close to the statue. What happened afterward…

She cracked her mind and heart open, adding a smile she realized hadn’t blossomed fully since their breakup years ago. “So, what’s our backstory?”

“I’m your partner,” he said, releasing her hand to take a bite of food.

“That’s a given. How did we meet?” She swirled the melting ice in her latte, mixing the milky concoction. She wondered if he’d make up a new story for them, or feel it best they went with their true origin, if he remembered it.

“We were high school sweethearts, of course. We met in biology on dissection day. You took one look at that limp toad and lost your cookies.” He shoved a forkful of food into his mouth, and a dribble of egg landed on his lip, which he licked.

Boo had dug up shifters and human corpses. She’d seen everything, but that first time stuck in her mind. “It was horrible and the start to dissection reform. Students now have the option to deny participating in something so brutal.”

Willy downed the last of his coffee. “So that’s our origin story.”

“Most of it. You helped me to the nurse’s office and waited until my mom picked me up. Then, after school, you showed up at my house, telling me that the rest of the class had walked out and refused to torture that poor formaldehyde toad.”

“That’s right,” Willy purred.

Boo smiled at the memory. “It was a heroic thing to do on your part.”

“You were important to me. The problem occurred when I tossed every one of those soulless amphibians in the garbage and the students had nothing to dissect. Doing that earned me a weeklong suspension and a failed grade.” Willy chuckled, and the table jiggled enough to slosh her watered-down latte.

The sound of his laughter strummed her own. She had been important to Willy in the past. However, tension had filled that time of their life.

It had returned. They’d survived turmoil once. Could they again?

She added to the memory. “Which the school board overturned once your parents lawyered up, and we celebrated?—”

“With our first kiss at the park. It was perfect.” His smile widened, and the table stopped jiggling.

Had their shared memories calmed him? She had yet to find peace. She spun the melting cubes in her cup. “That’s not what I remember. It was windy. My hair kept blowing between our mouths.”

“Nothing wrong with kissing hair to get to the good stuff.” He pumped his brows.

The night they’d upped their intimacy tenfold on the sands of Casper Beach, but she forced that memory into the deep recesses of her mind.

The pleasure he’d given her was something from the past. She needed to remember when they searched the auction for this new player that their engagement wasn’t real. “I think that’s enough backstory for one day.”

“Not nearly enough.” Willy hummed and inched closer. He roamed his gaze over her outfit, pausing at the thin gold belt that accentuated her figure before landing a look at the dangling loops swinging from her earlobes.

What was he doing? PDA now?

“You’re still perfection. Still put together.” He reached out his hand, taking the fine gold between his fingers. “You’re not seeing anyone, are you?”

He dropped his hand, and she longed for warmth but settled on finishing her savory pot pie. Craving Willy was off the menu. She should be relishing the nutrition to help her think and collect herself.

She shoved a large bite into her mouth, the buttery sauce and dough bringing her no more pleasure than their fake relationship and the dangerous mission.

“Did you hear my question?” Willy leaned in, cutting the space between them in half and rounding the corner of the table to her side of the booth, his leg brushing hers. “I need to know if I’m going to piss off anyone when we kiss.”

She dropped her fork, splashes of gravy splattering the table. “Kiss? You’re moving too fast.”

“Not fast enough if we’re going to catch this crook.” He moved closer, aligning his mouth with her ear. “Answer the question. Are you seeing anyone?”

“I’m not dating.” She held back the fact that she hadn’t been with another man since Willy.

Nor had she been familiar with black-market auctions since being taken into custody.

However, she could picture him kissing her as if it was yesterday. Her memory sent a fever to the pit of her belly.

She angled her body to face him on the bench seat. “You’ll need a black tux, and I’ll need a formal gown. These events are as much about who’s who as they are about fooling everyone. We’re only buyers representing a bigger player.”

Willy leaned back against the cushion and narrowed his eyes as if not fully grasping their assignment. “Representing?”

Of course, they’d need to make up someone they’d be standing in for. “Oh yes, royals, politicians, the influential, and the wealthy.”

With her successful pivot of the conversation, he retook his side of the table and tossed his handful of crumpled napkins onto his plate.

Those bigger players would see right through them if they didn’t perfect their stories and PDA. “So where did you propose to me?”

She felt her shoulders relax, confident Willy could create a good one. Thankfully she didn’t have to craft a wedding because someone might try to verify their marriage license.

“It was a beachside proposal without witnesses.” Willy tore a fresh napkin, the edges resembling the incoming wavy surf. “I got down on one knee while you were staring at the horizon and picturing our future children and our family adventures.”

“Oh really?” Boo considered the suggestion, her heart threatening to explode. She’d always wanted a beachside destination wedding, yet the proposal he’d described felt as magical.

Willy wrote their history as if he wasn’t just spitting random details. He knew she was estranged from her mother.

She ventured to ask, “Which beach?”

He held up a finger, the wheels behind his brown eyes churning. “The mist wraps around the beach just enough to keep the onlookers on the bluff from gazing at the couple at Casper Beach.”

A surge of memories stole her breath, and frankly, the reminder of how they’d once loved each other erased any sense of faking her feelings or their story.

Was he trying to get a rise out of her? Dissecting a past she’d buried? Trying to ignite a spark between them that she’d snuffed out years before?

She scooted to the edge of the seat and glared. “What are you doing? Why are you torturing me? Are you out for revenge because I ghosted you instead of the other way around?”

Willy huffed as if offended. “It’s not my intention to hurt you. I’m only solidifying our backstory so we don’t get outed at this first auction.”

“Well, I don’t want to remember, Willy,” she yowled, capturing the attention of the single night-owl server. “I want to make a new narrative. One that’s believable.”

“What’s better than the truth?” He held her stare and then spotted her twisting her fake engagement ring.

Nothing. Nothing was better than the first day she’d made love to Willy on that sandy beach, under the starlight, the waves orchestrating their intimate dance. But it was too real. Private. Whatever was happening between them turned as prickly as a sea urchin.

She punched to her feet, leaving Willy to settle the tab with the diner’s overworked server.

How dare Willy stir up their past.

She marched off, wanting to hide her longing for a past that was no longer achievable.

Willy called out, “I’ll meet you at ten in the morning at the Blue Flame Boutique in Willow Wisp for our first date, kitten .”