Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Magnolia appeared, a piece of paper in one hand, a towel in the other.
“It’s making a funny noise,” I informed her. “I think it’s sick.”
She leaned in and grinned. “He’s purring. He’s happy.”
“Why?”
“Because he knows he’s safe.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but she interrupted me.
“You have a choice,” she informed me. “Bathe him or go to the store.”
“How about we put him back outside?”
“Not even funny, Bane.”
I plucked the list from her hand. “Fine, Myers. But he’s out of here when the shelter opens up in the morning.”
“We’ll see.” She managed to remove his claws from my shirt, and she bundled him in the towel. “There is a pet store one block over. I called, and they’re open. They’re waiting for you. Hurry.”
I looked at the list in my hand. “Seriously? For one night?”
She rolled her eyes. “Accept it, Bane.” Then she grinned. “It’s me and the kitten—or the socialite and the five-hundred-dollar dinners.”
I waved the list. “You owe me.”
She grinned. “Hurry. He needs food.”
And for some reason, I did exactly as she told me.
I had no idea I lived that close to a pet store. Or that kittens needed so much stuff. The owners helped me out, and when I couldn’t answer the questions, I called Myers and she talked to them. As I was waiting, I spied a fuzzy little tepee-looking structure.
“What is that?” I asked.
“For the cat to sleep in. Unless, of course, you have one?”
“No.”
“We don’t recommend they sleep on a bed. Too high for them. And they like the comfort of being closed in. It makes them feel safe.”
Thinking how cold the kitten had felt when I first touched it, I plucked the tent off the shelf and added it to the pile.
Besides, there was only one pussy sleeping in my bed tonight, and it wasn’t the little ruffian who had claimed me as his own.
I walked into the condo, hearing Myers cooing and talking softly.
“Who is such a handsome boy? So cute! Look at that fur!”
I walked into the kitchen, finding her holding the kitten. She met my eyes. “Congratulations, Daddy! It’s a boy!”
I snorted. “Not his daddy. And he isn’t staying.” Then I dumped the bags on the counter. “All this goes with him tomorrow.”
She ignored me, pushing the kitten at me. Having no choice, I took him. Even with his fur damp, I could see the ginger color beginning to show. He snuggled into my chest again, making that purring sound. Absently, I stroked his head, mimicking the actions I had seen Myers make. I watched her mix up some mushy stuff and add a bit of horrendous-smelling food from a can into it.
“I think he is about seven, maybe eight weeks old,” she muttered, taking him from my hand and setting him in front of the food. “Oh, he is so hungry!” she exclaimed then laughed as he began to eat, supposedly so famished that he set his front paws in the dish, making growly noises as he devoured the wet mess in front of him.
“So much for the bath,” I observed, my lips pulling into a grin without my realizing it.
“I can clean his paws.” She dug through the bag and got out some other items, then clapped her hands in delight over the little bed. “He’ll love it!” She met my eyes. “What will we name him?”
I rolled my eyes. “How about Goodbye? Because that is where he’s going tomorrow. I’m going to change my shirt.” I left the kitchen, shaking my head.
As if I was going to keep a cat. I had never had a pet my entire life. I had no idea how to care for one or what to do with it.
Now, I simply had to convince Myers of that fact.
Chapter Seventeen
BANE
Iwalked into the guest room, drying off my hair. Magnolia was on the floor, the kitten sitting on her shoulder as she opened a bag of litter, pouring it into a small pan that I had carried home. When the kitten opened his eyes and saw me, he jumped down, running over and climbing up my leg. I hissed as his sharp little claws dug into my skin, and he curled into my chest as I stopped his trek up my torso. He was purring loudly, making Magnolia chuckle.
“He already loves you. He knows you saved him.”
“He’s going to the shelter. I don’t do pets. Or you can have him.”
She stood, shaking her head. “The owners of the house have strict rules. She is highly allergic to cats. I can’t take him. You have to keep him, Alex.”
“I’m too busy to look after a cat.”
“Cats are very independent. He’ll settle in here where he is safe and quiet.”
“And scratch my furniture and destroy my things.”
“You can train him.”
“Shelter.”
She looked sad but stopped arguing.
I walked over to the little tepee thing, lifting the kitten down and sliding him in the opening. He sniffed around, then curled up, immediately shutting his eyes.