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“What have we got here? Email?”
Kit responded with a hard meow and a firm jerk of his chin at the main house. Yordan correctly interpreted that as a question about everyone else.
“Oh, right. The puppies are okay. Some basic first aid and a stern talking-to about thinking calmly during a battle. They’ll probably need to talk to someone about what happened. This was pretty traumatic for a first mission, but they’ll be all right.”
Kit absorbed that and meowed a short question. Again, Yordan seemed to understand.
“Marsha will settle her outstanding debt to Coffee. She’s cool.” He glanced at Kit’s twitching tail and grinned. “But I’d expect kitty litter as your Christmas gift for years to come.”
Yeah. He’d already figured that out.
“They’re all gone, by the way. We’ll take the van.”
What van? Kit looked up with a cat frown.
“Yeah, you don’t know about that. And you still don’t. Because Nero would never hide a sweet conversion van in a garage near here. One that is tricked out as a geek’s paradise sex van whenever they train up here.”
Kit croaked a slow meow of irritation. No wonder Nero’s pack loved training missions here.
“Have I covered all the questions?” Yordan asked.
Kit grunted and looked back at the screen. There were a few things that needed handling by a person with fingers. Might as well get them done now.
Yordan nodded and then started tapping. The problem was that it was awkward with them both trying to see the screen. Kit kept peering around the keyboard and blocking Yordan’s view. In the end, the guy cursed and picked up Kit by the scruff of his neck.
“This is going to take forever if we don’t work together,” the man grumbled.
Then he put Kit on his shoulder. Kit was a big kitten, large enough to dwarf someone else’s shoulder, but not Yordan’s. After an indignant yowl at the manhandling, he settled on the guy’s shoulder with a huff.
“Keep those claws contained,” Yordan grumbled.
Kit did. And in a moment, he allowed himself to lean into Yordan’s neck. Lord, it was warm and comfy here, and pretty soon, the two of them settled into a rhythm, moving through Kit’s work with surprising speed.
They developed a shorthand of yeses and nos by his meows. Yordan guessed at what should be said in responses—with fairly good accuracy—and typed it in his usual straightforward language. Typically Kit would be more circumspect, but Yordan’s bluntness had its advantages. When Kit would normally offer an explanation, Yordan typed, No. Or, Never. And once, Dream on, sucker, but that was to Nero, so he got away with it.
The important tasks were finished quickly, and Yordan settled in to see the breadth and depth of Coffee’s outstanding bets.
By that point, Kit’s exhaustion was creeping in. The warmth of Yordan’s body, the gentle rocking of his breathing, and even the low chuckle as he commented on the more stupid bets had Kit’s eyes drifting closed.
“So Gummy bet that he’d be surrounded by numbnuts for the rest of his life. Which means the flying gators weren’t my fault.”
Not exactly accurate, but close enough. Kit responded with a low purr.
Yordan lifted his shoulder and nuzzled Kit’s back.
“Getting sleepy?”
Kit couldn’t deny it.
“Me too,” Yordan said with a loud yawn. “Guess the gummy worm has worn off. I think the rest of this can wait for now.”
Kit’s response was a low purr. Honestly, he wasn’t fully aware of making the sound except that it felt so good to let it rumble through his body. This was something cats had over dogs, and he’d never appreciated it until now.
Yordan stood up, still carrying Kit, and headed up the stairs to the bedrooms. There were several there. Plenty to pick from, but of course Yordan headed for the master. It had the biggest bed and a gargantuan attached bath. And somewhere between the door and the bed, Kit fell fast asleep.
CHAPTER 11
I Thought I Saw a Pussy Cat
