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epilogue
HOLD THE A-CLAWS
Miles
One Year Later
I wake up to the feel of a sandpaper tongue on my cheek. I crack a lid and find two blue eyes staring back at me. “You look like an angry gargoyle.” I roll over, but I’m greeted with dog breath. “Why don’t they harass you in the morning?” I grumble.
“Because you’re the one who gives in whenever they beg for food.” Kitty’s front presses against my back, and her arm comes around my waist.
I roll her way and press my lips to her temple.
Prince Francis takes the opportunity for what it is and plunks his butt down on my chest, continuing with his angry gargoyle impression. Kitty giggles and rubs under his chin. He flops over on his side and lands in the crack between our bodies. He struggles to right himself for a moment, then relocates to the pillows and wraps his body around Kitty’s head.
Wilfred sets his chin on the edge of the mattress and gives me his sad eyes while whimpering.
“I feel like we’re going to end up with really spoiled kids if these two are anything to go on.” My eyes flare, and I look down at Kitty. “I mean one day, eventually, in the future. Probably the distant future. After we get married.” I purse my lips and bite them to keep me from digging a bigger hole.
While a lot of things have changed in the past year, my ability to stick my foot in my mouth has not.
“Are you saying you want to marry me?” Kitty’s smile is full of amusement.
“I’m kind of attached to you.”
That beautiful smile of hers widens. “I’m kind of attached to you, too.”
She tips her chin up and I tip mine down so our lips can connect.
“I love you more than Wilfred loves cookie treats.” I slide my arm under her and pull her closer.
“And I love you more than Prince Francis loves licking his balls in front of company,” Kitty replies.
We both snort-giggle, then go back to making out.
Wilfred paws at my arm and whimpers, while Prince Francis starts grooming our foreheads, forcing us to break apart.
“Maybe we should hit pause and feed them before this goes any further,” I suggest.
Kitty sighs. “Probably a good idea. I’ll feed Prince Francis, and you feed Wilfred?”
Two minutes later we’re back in bed, the door to our room closed as we make morning love. It’s my favorite way to start my day.
Forty-five minutes later we’re sated, showered, and dressed. Kitty and I stand side by side in the kitchen, working around each other as I fry bacon and she toasts English muffins for our egg sandwiches.
Despite having just eaten their own breakfasts, Wilfred and Prince Francis are also seated side by side on the kitchen floor, their tails swinging in tandem, hopeful that we’ll drop something delicious. We sit at the kitchen table and talk about our plans for the day.
“I’m heading to Terra Cotta this morning, and I’m taking Prince Francis and Wilfred by to see your mom while I’m there.”
The pilot project with A Place for Paws has gone over incredibly well. It’s been backed by several celebrities, including Brit Sheers, and they’re developing a training program so other shelters can create something similar. And the Kitty Whisperer has grown exponentially, thanks to the support and help of A Place for Paws. We have a storefront now, with an office and staff, still based in Terra Cotta, where everything started. Kat’s Cat Café has become part of the project, too, and cats who are good with people often end up there on their way to finding their forever home. It’s been amazing to watch Kitty grow as a person and a businesswoman. She’s an inspiration, and I’m lucky to have her sunshine in my life.
“That’ll be great. She’ll love that.” The home has been great about allowing pet visits, and my mom is thriving in the social setting. “Will you stop and see your mom, too?”
“She’s squeezing me in for a lunch date between all the other things she has going on.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” I say teasingly.
Since her move, Lucile’s social life has blossomed, and she’s mentioned a “gentleman friend” that she’s been out with a lot recently.
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, apparently,” Kitty says with a sly grin.
We finish breakfast, clean up our dishes, and get ready to leave for work. Kitty and I dress Prince Francis and Wilfred in matching sweaters, since today is supposed to be on the chilly side.
“Don’t forget that we have dinner plans tonight,” I remind her after we load our fur-children into the back of her Cat-mobile.
“It’s on my calendar. I’ll be home before five so I can de-fur myself and make this pretty.” She motions to her face.
“You’re always pretty.”
“And you’re always handsome.”
