Max pushed his paws against her chest so he could lean back and look up at her.

“Oh, Max.” Remnants of yesterday’s mascara smudged her blue eyes, and her dark hair fell against her neck in the spot Max liked to nuzzle. She smelled like the strange stuff she drank when she was away from home. Something sweet and curious, a secret scent that drifted between them when she talked, that found a home on her skin where it would linger for days. A scent that spoke of a world Max knew nothing about, a world that scared him with its mysteries and possible dangers.

“Why do I bring these losers home?” Melody was wearing her pink pajamas. The ones with the black cats. Max smiled at her. She smiled back and massaged his head. “When am I going to realize that you’re the only guy I need in my life?”

She’d said the same thing before. Max knew that soon she would meet her friends for drinks and there would be another morning and another loser. It had been fourteen cat years since David had died, but fourteen of Max’s years translated to two of Melody’s. It was time she met a decent guy, and Max was beginning to think he’d have to take it upon himself to find one.

Chapter 2

Max was a cat of action. The very next day after Melody left for work, he moved forward with his plan. He would go out into the world and return with a man for Melody. Leaving home was easy. All he had to do was slip out the doggy door that had been installed by the previous homeowners. When Melody and David moved into the place, there had been some discussion about the door.

“Max won’t leave the yard,” David had predicted.

He’d been right. In fact, just thinking of what might dwell beyond the solid fence scared the beejesus out of Max. Now, as he sat in the safety of his backyard kingdom, doubt crept in and he briefly wondered about the practicality of his matchmaking plan. But the trepidation didn’t last long. His spontaneous nature kicked in and he scaled the fence, then perched casually on a post, fake-licking a paw to give the impression that he had all day and was not on a mission. A cat, especially a cat like him, had to retain an outward appearance of cool at all times.