Page 17 of Keystrokes and Kittens

Noah rose, grabbed the bottle, and propelled Sam to sit back down on the couch. He handed me the bottle and then he sat back down. As I settled into feeding Jack—which was easier than I expected—Noah gestured to the box of kittens. “Now, I love Tibby. She’s done amazing in training and is one of the youngest pet-therapy dogs I’ve ever graduated.”

I might’ve puffed my chest in pride.

“She’s also just a sixteen-month-old puppy. Her obedience skills are excellent, but she’s still got plenty of play in her.”

“Well, yeah.” Absolutely true. If she was in her vest, then her attention was laser focused on me. The rest of the time, she was still a bit of a goofball. I hoped she’d always have that joie de vivre. “What are you trying to say?”

“Well, she’s great with Snowy and Jasmine.”

Noah’s middle-aged cats.

“That’s true.” I checked to make certain Jack was still drinking.

“The cats have the maturity—and the good sense—to stay out of the way of a loopy lab. Every interaction is on their terms. And I’d never force them to spend time with the dogs if they didn’t want to. They sort of get a kick out of putting puppies in their place.”

“Teaching the dogs to treat cats with respect. I was incredibly grateful to them.” A weird thing to say, but the two had been wonderful with Tibby.

“But two-week-old kittens aren’t steady on their feet. They can’t escape if the dog becomes too much for them.”

“Oh.” Disappointment settled. “But the videos—”

Noah held up his hand. “Not a good idea to learn about kitten rearing from videos. The circumstances might be different. Dogs also have different temperaments. Now, Tibby’s very gentle. She might also have a predator instinct in her. Kittens might trigger her, and she might think they’re prey.”

Sam pressed a hand to his chest.

“It’s okay.” Noah reached across the box to rest his hand on Sam’s forearm. “We just have to ensure Tibby can’t get to them until they’re old enough.”

“When might that be?” Again, I checked on Jack—who kept drinking.

“Five weeks at the earliest. Now, that’s for actual introductions when they can be in the same space without a barrier. Until then, the kittens are going to need to be crated. Unless Tibby is. She can’t be able to get to the little ones.” Noah gestured to the crate Sam had brought them in. “That’s a good, safe place for them. When they’re a bit more mobile, you’ll want to get themsomething bigger.” He pointed to Tibby’s massive crate. “That would be perfect.”

I burst out laughing. “Oh, that’ll confuse her to no end.” Then I sobered. “So she’s not meeting them tonight.”

Noah shook his head. “But I’m down for her sniffing their blanket. She needs to be aware her space is about to be invaded. Hopefully she’ll simply be curious. Since that’s her nature, I’m pretty confident everything will be fine. In three weeks, I’m happy to come back to facilitate formal introductions.”

At that moment, Jack peed on me.

I groaned.

“Oh man.” Sam leapt up, grabbed some tissues, and headed over to me.

Sam tried to wipe my shirt—rather ineffectually—and Noah came over and took Jack. He wiped the kitten and put him in the box.

Still Sam tried to pat my shirt. Right at my abs. Vigorously.

My cock perked up and took notice of the attention.

For fuck’s sake. You’re covered in cat pee and you’re interested in sexright now? My libido answered by kicking up a gear. I eased Sam away from me. “It’s all good.” I rose. “I’m going to wash myself off and get changed. Noah, can you help Sam organize the kittens in the crate so they’re comfortable and safe? We can let Tibby sniff the blanket, and then Sam needs to go to bed. I can do the next three feedings.”

“But—” Sam rubbed his forehead.

“No buts.” Noah laid a hand on his biceps. “Soren’s right. You’re clearly exhausted and you might make a mistake. Or fall asleep behind the wheel. Or have an accident at the store tomorrow. If he can take the feedings, then let him. You’re still taking care of the little ones. You brought them here—where they’ll be safe.”

Sam blinked repeatedly. “I just—” He swallowed.

“I know.” Noah continued to press his hand to Sam. “I really do get it. I’ve had so many pets in my life, and it’s always scary. You’re responsible for a creature who will never be able to take care of themselves. At least kids grow up—eventually. Or so I’m told.” He chuckled.

Slowly, tension left Sam’s body. He met my gaze. “I’m good.”