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Bishop's eyes travel between me and the litter a few times.
"No," I growl definitively when I catch on to what he's implying. "We arenotadopting these guys out."
He scratches the back of his neck. "That is usually how it goes. They're almost three months old now. It's past due actually."
"They'remine." I lift Joey into my arms and let him sniff my face before he gives me the best friend nose lick of approval. "Wait. What has this got to do with Fulton?"
"He's thinking about adopting them."
"They're not up for adoption," I repeat. "Besides, you guys already have seven thousand cats."
"You really think he's going to stop until he reaches ten?"
I take a break from nose kisses with Joey to glare at my brother. "Weak joke. How many cats do you actually have?"
"Twenty. I think. Hard to keep up."
"Well, forget it. That’s plenty. These guys are going to live with me."
"All of them?"
"Well, uh…"
Ideally, yes.
Realistically, taking on an entire litter of cats is a lot for any normal, non-Fulton person to handle. "I haven't decided yet."
"Well, you're going to have to make a decision soon. Because we need to find permanent homes for these little ones. It's intheirbest interests."
I sigh because he's right.
I hate that he's right.
But I nod, and say, "Sure," even though my mind's already made up about one kitty at least.
* * *
"So what are you going to do?" Locky asks from the sofa, where he’s keeping an eye on things.
The kittens are happy playing, stretching, napping, and doing whatever they feel like all over the living room.
"I honestly don't know. It's not practical to keep all of these guys. As much as I love all of them, I know they'd be too much for me to take on. But I can't let this little one go." I scoop down and lift Joey into my arms, rocking him gently from side to side. "We had a rocky start but we're bonded now."
He trusts me. The little dude who would give me attitude and poke his tiny kitty butt at me is now falling asleep in my arms, purring like the kitty angel he is. How am I supposed to let him go?
"You could just keep him."
"That's what I'm thinking," I say. "But even one cat is a big commitment."
"It is. But you seem like a pretty commitment-ready guy to me."
"Do I now?"
Locky's gaze drifts to my lips. The same lips that treated him to a pretty damn good blow job this afternoon when he came home from the clinic and jokingly uttered those three magic words—Honey, I'm home!
Truth be told, he could've announced that aliens had invaded and were currently dividing the human species into categories based on intelligence and useful skills. Nothing was going to keep me from getting a taste of him. I'm officially addicted.
After he reciprocated, he helped me clean up at the shelter. He made dinner, I cleaned up the destruction after him. And now we're chilling as…roommates? Friends? Wingmen with benefits?
