Page 109 of Checking Out the Librarian

“Oh.” Jonathan felt dazzled. Connor had done another thing that made his life easier, taken care of something, actually many things, which had sent him teetering on the edge of a panic but now Kitten was drinking. Jonathan could almost see his belly growing taut. Kitten had a vet appointment.

And Lily was putting on a pair of first aid gloves and finding gauze wipes in the emergency box in order to perform what she called a kitten digestive massage as soon as the feeding ended. His gray cashmere remained secure in the box under the circulation desk. The kitten fur on it could be remediated, but kitten excrement was probably like a nuclear disposal site with a half-life of forever, so Lily had saved his sweater.

Connor leaned over Jonathan’s shoulder, staring at Kitten, completely focused on Jonathan’s hands and their bundle. His posture canted fully into the zone around Jonathan. He sounded like he timed his breathing to match each tiny squelch-squelch from the bottle.

“Do you want to?” Jonathan lowered his chin toward the bundle in his hand. Kitten’s eyes were closed and he might be asleep, or close to it, but he kept taking from the bottle.

“So much,” he whispered back and spread his fingers around the outside of Jonathan’s hand, creating a second cradle so that Jonathan could carefully withdraw his. They transferred the bottle the same way. Jonathan never left the circle of Connor’s arms.

Lily snickered, lowering her phone. She’d arranged more newspapers on top of the new heating pad. “Look at the big happy family over there. You two are⁠—”

“Shhh,” Jonathan and Connor both told her.

He was going to need that photo.

23

NOT A DUKE

Jonathan’s phone told him it was only seven p.m., barely two hours since he’d told Connor that he worried about Ribby being too excited to meet the kitten, and if he had to choose between his two favorite dudes tonight (he didn’t know why they thought the kitten was a boy, but they did), it was probably wiser to choose to take the kitten to his own apartment.

Alone.

Connor had stood on the sidewalk in front of the library looking crushed, but he’d said he understood that Jonathan—no, not me, the kitten—needed less stimulation and being at his house could be a lot for someone—no, it’s a lot for something so small, not for me.

He’d said he’d understood.

Jonathan was pretty sure that wasn’t entirely true, but they were texting. A lot.

Connor

Naming him Kitten is plebian it’s common

Little guy lives in black tie

I think Duke of Pawsley

Very Downton Abbey or that other show

That show I really like

That show we started watching togeher

Jonathan

You know how I feel about the abundance of dukes.

I will not have a duke in my home other than those two.

Connor

But what about Connor Duke McMillan

Will you have him

Jonathan

You’re not serious.