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"Looks like a good dog to me," Michael stated, giving the pup an energetic scratch between the ears.
"So you can teach him tricks, right, Mr. Fury? How to sit and play dead and shake?"
"I expect."
The pup sniffed curiously at one of the cat boxes and was rewarded with a spitting hiss. Yelping, he streaked away and cringed behind Laura's legs.
"He's already learned something." With a grin, Michael opened the first box. "Don't mess with a cornered torn. No, honey." Michael took Kayla's hand before she could reach in to pet the cat. "I doubt he's in a friendly mood at the moment. Don't like being cooped up there, do you, big guy? Let's get you and your pal out."
He opened the other box, then drew Kayla back. "We'll just let them get the lay of the land. Once they've catted around some, they'll settle in." His eyes skimmed over Laura, lingered, then moved on. "Whatcha got there, Ali?"
"Kittens." Ali's hands and heart were full of them already. "Mama brought us kittens too."
"Fuzzy little kitties." As he walked to them, he ran his tongue around his teeth. "Cute."
"Mama said I could name the gray one myself."
"Then I get to name the orange one." Staking her claim, Kayla took the orange kitten out of Ali's hand and nuzzled it against her cheek. "Don't I, Mama?"
"Fair enough. We'll have a naming marathon after dinner. We'll just get out of Mr. Fury's way—"
"Can't we show the kittens to Max? Can't we?"
"Sure you can." Michael winked at Kayla. "He's a real softie." When the girls raced off, the pup at their heels, Michael shook his head. "What the hell have you done, Laura?"
"Made my girls very happy." She pushed back her hair. "And saved five lives in the bargain. Do you have a problem with kittens and puppies?"
"Nope." The cats had leaped out of their boxes and were slinking around, growling softly. Michael reached over and stroked the nose of his sober gelding. "You ever do anything halfway?"
"I've been known to." She unbent enough to smile. "I couldn't stop myself. If you'd seen the girls' faces when I told them that silly little dog was theirs… I'll never forget it."
With the same absent affection he'd shown the gelding, Michael stroked her cheek. He didn't know if he was amused or annoyed when she jerked like a spring. "You need some training yourself."
"Excuse me?"
"You shy easy. I appreciate you picking up the cats for me," he said before she could think of a response.
"No trouble. The whole lot of them need to go to the vet. Shots. Neutering."
"Ouch!" In a knee-jerk male reaction, he winced. "Yeah, I guess that's the deal."
"It's the responsible choice—and it's required when you adopt from the shelter. I have all the paperwork. Except I—"
"What?"
"Well, I didn't think to ask about the sex of the kittens. I don't know if they told me. It started to get complicated and confusing, and I think I've heard that it's difficult to tell with young kittens."
It took an effort, but he kept his eyes solemn. "I've always heard you shake 'em. If they don't rattle, they're female."
It took her a moment. Then she broke into easy, appreciative laughter. "I'll be sure to try it. When the girls aren't around."
"There you are. I don't suppose I've heard you laugh like that more than a half a dozen times since I've known you. You were always being too dignified when I was around."
"I'm sure you're mistaken."
"Sugar, I don't make many mistakes when it comes to women."
"No, I don't imagine you would." To give herself a moment to make her retreat—yes, damn it, a dignified retreat—she turned to the gelding. "This is a handsome horse."
