Page 32 of Keystrokes and Kittens

“They are.” I snagged a slice of bacon, wrapped it in a napkin, and shoved it in my jeans pocket. “For Tibby.”

He gestured to his. “May I take her a slice as well?”

“Maybe I’ll just give you mine. She gets plenty from me already.”

“Thanks. That’d be…really sweet.” He gazed around the diner. “I’ll try to come here more often. Hartsville isn’tthatfar away.”

“We’ll just have to give you an incentive for visiting.” Boldly, I winked.

Sam bit his lower lip.

If not for his dark skin, I’d bet I’d be able to see him blushing.Unlike me who, with my bright-white skin, showed every damn emotion. My wife used to tease me about it mercilessly.

Gabriella arrived at our table. “Everything okay? You looked like you were talking super intensely, and now your food’s gone cold.” Her brown eyes expressed concern.

“All good.” I gestured to the food. “Maybe we can get it to go?” I turned my attention to Sam. “I know it’s a little early in the day…but would you like dessert? They make some amazing pies.”

His eyes lit. “Maybe we can share?”

“Sounds perfect.” I turned to Gabriella. “What flavors do you have?”

Chapter Nine

Sam

My heart pounded as I raced as fast as I could to Dr. Malcolm’s vet clinic.

He’s got to be okay. He’s got to be okay. I’ll be devastated if he’s not okay. I’ll feel guilty forever if he doesn’t make it.

Soren’s call had come out of the blue.

Carlos wouldn’t eat and was lethargic. Soren wasconcernedand so had arranged to take the kitten to see Dr. Malcolm. He was bringing Peaches and Jack along so they could get checked—just in case they were dealing with some kind of infection or virus or—

Stop overthinking this. Maybe Carlos is just tired. It’s tiring being a kitten. Maybe he’s just really sleepy.Dr. Malcolm, everyone from Foggy Basin told me, was an amazing vet, and he’d take good care of my babies.

My babies.

At some point, they’d stopped being just a litter of kittens I’d found in front of the store. I’d become truly invested in them. Iwas reviewing my house and trying to decide how to make it cat friendly. Trying to figure out how to integrate them into my life.

I’d texted Quinta to make certain she wasn’t allergic to fur. And perhaps hoping her interest would be piqued enough to bring her home.

She’d said another week or so and no, she wasn’t allergic and, oh, if I was considering adopting, could I send her pictures?

Naturally, I had fifty pictures of the kittens. With a boldness I barely recognized, I sent one of Soren holding all three.

Quinta had texted back that I’d found four lovely creatures.

Okay. So I’d dropped my little bombshell. I still didn’t know where things might be going with Soren—but I had Quinta’s approval. I didn’t need it, of course, but it was nice to have.

I have to go the speed limit. I don’t want to get pulled over. That will only slow me down.

Telling myself that and going about five miles over were two different things. Still, the road was clear, the weather was perfect, and I needed to focus. Thinking about that awful night ten years ago wasn’t going to get me safely to the clinic.

In the end, I made it in record time and was in the door as fast as I could.

Soren, who’d been sitting on a chair, rose.

His face said everything I needed to know.