Page 22 of Keystrokes and Kittens

“Thank you, Soren. I know I’m going to say that multiple times a day for now to eternity—but I’m incredibly grateful.” I wondered if he might wave me off, but he held my gaze.

“Truly my pleasure, Sam. Whatever you need—I’m here for you.”

I wanted to say more, but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I rose, prepared the bottle, and headed into the great room where the crate sat atop the dining room table. I removed toasty kittens, fed and cared for them, then headed to work.

Even after resolving tonotthink about Soren all day—that’s exactly what I did.

Chapter Six

Soren

The next four days passed in a blur. Feedings, kittens, laundry, paying extra attention to Tibby and—most importantly—restraining myself when it came to Sam.

I’d never realized he worked six days a week. Or perhaps he didn’t always. He’d again mentioned his niece Quinta and how he was both worried and needing her home. Desiree always worked Sundays—giving him one day of reprieve.

Saturday evening, we battled over who would care for the kittens during the night. A battle I’d won every night so far. One Sam seemed determined to win tonight. “I’ve had the entire week off. You’ve not had more than three hours sleep at a time. You need a solid night.”

“I’m fine.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“Seriously. I don’t ever remember being this well rested. Or well slept.”

“Is that a thing?”

I shrugged. “I’m not certain—but it should be. I’m getting about twelve hours of sleep during a twenty-four-hour period. That’s decadent. When I was first starting my business? Insane hours.” I grinned. “And Lolita has everything under control. In fact, I think she really likes being the boss. I’m going to look at giving her more responsibilities. Which would enable me to hire a couple more programmers and to take on more clients.”

“Oh.” He rubbed his face. “So expanding your business?”

“Yes. I’m always turning clients away. The internet world can be a dangerous place. I’ll never run out of work.”

He squinted. And likely not from the light that flooded the great room. As we got closer to the summer solstice, the days grew longer. Rain had been intermittent, and sun aplenty. “This is making my head hurt.”

“Great. So you’ll eat the bean salad and burgers I’ve made—lean ground chuck—and you’ll head to bed.”

“Nope. I will eat—feeling guilty because I haven’t prepared a single meal this week—and I’ll take care of the kittens tonight while you get some rest.” Even as he said the words, he yawned. “Goddamnit.”

I grinned. “I rest my case. Do you want a shower before dinner?” Some days he came home and hopped right into the shower—others he dropped into the kitchen chair and devoured his food. I sent him to work with a lunch every day—but I got the sense he didn’t always have time to eat the entire thing. Quinta really needed to come home soon. Either that, or Sam needed to find more help. “Hey, have you given any thought to hiring someone on contract just for a week or two? I’m sure there’s a college student who’d appreciate the work while trying to find something more permanent. Youth unemployment’s pretty high right now.”

“Because AI is eating up all the jobs.” He rubbed his forehead.

I took him by the elbow and guided him to the kitchen where I encouraged him to sit. I hadn’t asked permission to touch him. On the other hand, he appeared as if he was about to drop right on the spot.

He sat heavily.

I retrieved the bean salad from the fridge and put it before him along with a bowl, serving spoon, and a fork. Then I donned oven mitts so I could pull the burgers and buns from the oven where they’d been warming. Fresh off the grill was better, but I never knew the exact moment he’d be home, and I didn’t want him waiting.

As he dished salad into two bowls, I served the burgers. We added condiments and then gave each other a smile before eating.

Sam had admitted he wasn’t a religious man. Losing most of his family to a drunk driver had cured him of that belief. I saw myself as more agnostic. Something greater than myself existed—I just wasn’t going to put all my eggs in the religion basket.

Only after he’d consumed most of his meal did he stop to take a breath. “Thank you. This was…amazing.”

I chuckled. “High praise for burgers.”

“And bean salad. One of my favorites and very healthy.” He sighed.

“You’re looking good.”Crap. All week I’ve been well-behaved.