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She heard him and looked over to see Hamlet sitting in the kitchen doorway. His head cocked to one side and one eyebrow apparently raised.

“Not a word out of you, Flea Bag.”

The dog all but smirked before plopping down on the floor, head resting on paws to watch his mistress. Smiling, Cat took a treat from the container on the

counter and tossed it at the dog. His head whipped up and he snatched the tasty treat from the air with a snap.

“You’re so easy,” Cat chuckled and then started removing pots and pans from under the cabinets. “I wonder if Dylan can be trained through her stomach.”

Cat continued working around the kitchen. Her mind wandered to many topics in order to keep her from thinking about Dylan. They had lost the big game in

California. It wasn’t any wonder really, given that she and Dylan had spent the night on a freezing mountain, not quite sure if they were going to live.

Not only were they in no condition to perform their respective roles as player and coach, but the rest of the team had gotten very little sleep when they

found out the private plane had gone down. To make matters worse, early reports stated that there had been no survivors and they were waiting for the

bodies to be brought down.

Fortunately, Cat, Dylan, and the team doctor had made it out with what could be considered minor injuries, considering the situation. Unfortunately, Cat

thought acidly, Horace had survived not only the crash, but a heart attack as well. She shook her head as began slicing vegetables, her mother would not

be proud of her for thinking such things. Even if Horace Johnson was a narrow minded, bigoted son of a bitch.

They split the next two games of their road trip, and arrived back home battered, bruised, and sitting in third in their division.

Needless to say, no one was very happy when they touched down in Birmingham just the day before, and Cat just about started in surprise when Dylan

reminded her of her bargain and their first ‘real’ date together. She couldn’t snap the idea up quickly enough, and then spent the rest of the night worrying

that Dylan might think her something tart, and cheap, and rhyming with ‘go’.

Shaking herself out of those less than pleasant memories, she covered the tray of veggies and the now freshly made pate and placed it in the refrigerator

so they would be properly chilled when Dylan arrived.

Next, onto the stock for the soup. She was very pleased with herself and that she had not made any critical errors. She was a bit worried about how soft the

tofu was, but she decided that since it was made from soybeans it was probably suppose to be mushy. It still cut up just fine into little cubes to be put in

the soup.

She peered into the to soup pan stirring it slowly. “I think it’s okay. God I’m going to need a burger after she leaves.” A slight, sexy smile crossed her lips as

she put just a touch of pepper in the soup. “If she leaves.”

Everything was prepared and Cat had to give herself credit. For dishes that had nothing that resembled meat in them, they all smelled good.

“I’m amazed,” she mumbled as she looked into the last pan, containing the roasted chilies. The aroma was spicy and Cat wondered if she would be able to

eat it. Hot food was not her thing, but she knew Dylan had a taste for it.

Hamlet jumped up and dashed for the door when the bell rang. He stood there, barking and growling and doing what he was trained to do, protect Cat, with

his very life if need be.

“All right ferocious, knock it off. Its just Dylan.” She reached down and tugged on his collar, causing him to stop immediately. He sat back and waited for

her to open the door. If she was wrong he was right there to tear the throat out of anyone who would hurt his human.

Cat smiled when she opened the door, finding Dylan leaning against the jam. A bottle of wine in one hand and a bouquet of wild flowers in the other. She’d

rid herself of her damnable crutches the day before, over the vociferous objections of Norton and the entire medical staff, and was down to the bulky brace

that she wore under loose black slacks.

“Hi,” she said softly, causing chills to run up and down Cat’s spine.

“Hi, yourself. Come on in.” She stepped back and allowed the tall woman entrance.

Hamlet was sure that no one was here for dastardly purposes and left them standing there as he went to his big bed in the living room.

“I’m glad we decided to do this, Cat.” Dylan offered the flowers first then the wine.

Cat took both, blushing at the flowers and looking at the bottle. “I thought you didn’t drink.”

“I don’t really, but one glass of wine with dinner tonight isn’t going to kill me and I thought I would show you I’m not totally weird.”

“Do you like tofu?”

“Love it!”

“Great, you’ll love the soup, but you’re still weird.” She chuckled as she walked to the kitchen with Dylan following behind.

Dylan took a seat on a stool at the breakfast counter. She grinned as Cat removed the trays from the fridge and placed them in front of her, uncovering

them with a flourish.