Read With This Ring for Free Online Page A

inside, and as she snapped on lights, he looked around with pleasure. Even though he prided himself on the fact that he could be ready to go anywhere in an hour and could carry all of his important worldly possessions in a backpack and his camera bags didn't mean he couldn't appreciate a place like Amy's.
    The main living area of the apartment had few interior walls that he could see. The different areas were defined by the placement of furniture and the judicious use of screens as well as a low counter/bar that separated the kitchen area from the living area. He noted the highly polished wood floors, the brightly colored rugs scattered about, the proliferation of wicker and light oak furniture, and the dozens and dozens of plants of every description and variety.
    He noticed other things, too: speakers mounted in four different places high on the ceilings, literally hundreds of books overflowing two bookcases, a sturdy-looking easel in the far corner, and standing next to it, a fishing tackle box that looked as if it were filled with tubes of paint.
    There were also cats. Three of them. One sitting on top of the coffee table, one perched on the windowsill, and the third curled up against the cushions of a green and white striped sofa.
    Sam walked over and petted the one on the coffee table, a salmon-colored, long-haired beauty with huge topaz eyes.
    "That's Delilah," Amy said, tossing her parents' mail on a rosewood bachelor's chest to the right of the doorway where it joined an already large mound.
    Delilah purred and stretched, leaning into his hand.
    "I think she likes me," he said.
    Amy rolled her eyes. "Typical female," she murmured. "Stick a good-looking guy in front of her, and she's putty."
    Sam grinned. "What's the black one's name?" He looked at the cat on the windowsill.
    "That's Sheba. Isn't she beautiful? I got her at the shelter."
    Sheba stared at Sam, then turned back to face the window which reflected her haughty image.
    "She
doesn't
like me."
    Amy chuckled. "She doesn't like anyone."
    "Not even you?"
    "She tolerates me."
    Amy took off her beret and tossed it at the big calico laying on the couch. "Hey, Elvis, move your fat rump off that couch. You know I don't allow you up there!"
    The calico stretched lazily, then slowly stood, arched his back, and lightly hopped off the couch. He walked away slowly, his head and tail up in the air.
    "Guess he told you," Sam said.
    Amy laughed. "Honestly. They run the household."
    "Yeah, I know."
    "Do you have cats? No, of course, you don't. You're traveling all the time."
    "I used to have a dog. But I had to find him another home."
    Because she looked as if she felt bad for him, he said, "I get to see him all the time, though, because he lives with my best friend. So it's
almost
like having a dog of my own."
    "What kind of dog is he?"
    "Major is part Lab, but mostly Heinz 57 . . . like me."
    "The very best kind," Amy said softly. Her eyes met his, and there was something about their expression that caused Sam's breath to catch.
    For a long moment, nothing stirred except the current of emotion crackling between them.
    Jesus, Sam thought. What's going on here? His throat felt suddenly dry.
    Amy was the first one to look away. "Do you mind if I check my messages?" she said.
    "No, go ahead."
    She headed toward the telephone which sat on the bar. Sam watched her. She walked like a dancer, sort of bouncing on the balls of her feet. She'd probably had years of ballet lessons, along with everything else that money could buy. He thought about his own childhood. About every spare penny going to feed his mother's drug habit. About all the times they wouldn't have eaten if not for the soup kitchen at the mission a couple of blocks away from their seedy apartment and his skill at panhandling . . . and other things.
    Amy punched a button on her answering machine, and after a few beeps, a woman's slightly nasal voice said:
Hey, Amy, where the hell are you? I thought we were supposed to go