Page 90 of Interference

Wyatt

“All right, boys.” Anthony sat down on the living room floor. “It’s your favorite day!”

From the couch where I’d been reading, I watched as he laid out a towel, several brushes and trimmers, and an empty box. “Kitty spa day?”

He snorted. “More like horrible kitty torture day.”

Bear apparently hadn’t gotten the memo, because he hopped down from his perch and immediately started trying to wedge himself into the box beside Anthony. The box wasn’t tiny, but it was definitely a few sizes too small for a cat that big. He still tried valiantly, though.

“Hey, buddy.” Anthony grinned, pulled Bear from the box, and set him on the towel. “Looks like you’re up first.”

I put my book aside. “So, the box is bait?”

Chuckling, he shook his head as he petted Bear, who was arching his back and turning in circles, purring loudly. “No, that’s just a bonus.” He tilted his head toward the box. “That’s for containing all the hair I’m going to pull off them.”

I blinked. “How much do you take off?”

“About enough to build another cat.” He started gently nudging Bear down, and the cat flopped onto his side on the towel. Anthony tugged the towel a little closer, then picked up a brush.

I couldn’t lie, it was cute as hell watching Anthony brush Bear and Moose.

For one thing, their personalities were bigger than they were. Bear rolled around on the towel, stretching his legs in every which direction and kneading in the air. His purring rivaled a tank engine—I’d never known a cat could purr that loud—and he seemed to love all the attention he was getting. When Anthony found a knot and had to work to untangle it, the cat was less than thrilled. He’d swat at Anthony’s hands, and at one point, he tried to bite him. Then Anthony would drop the remnants of the knot into the box, and a moment or two later, Bear would be purring and rolling around again.

Moose was somewhat more… opinionated about the whole process. He purred while Anthony ran the soft brush over his back and sides, but he did not like having his ruff or belly brushed. When Anthony worked out a particularly tight knot beneath Moose’s armpit, the low growl even made Lily sit up and take notice. While Bear quickly forgave those transgressions, Moose stayed spicy, swatting at Anthony’s hands and glaring at him.

The cats were entertaining, sure, but it was Anthony who really held my attention. I loved how gentle and patient he was with the cats. He talked to them softly the whole time. When either of them got really upset over a knot or a tangle, he’d leave it alone for a few minutes, running the softer brush over less tender areas until they’d calmed down. When one knot had Moose getting especially fired up, Anthony just snipped it out and called it a day.

Sometimes he’d just stop and pet them, telling them what good boys they were and scratching their ears or rumps the way they liked.

I barely kept myself from literally swooning. Men who turned to mush for animals turned me to mush. I already adored how Anthony talked to his cats all the time. Sometimes I could hear them upstairs before bed. Or he’d chat with them while he was making their breakfast and his own. Whenever he came home from being on the road, his eyes lit up and he had to stop and pet both of them. The fact that they both lit up when he came home was—God, that was adorable. Didn’t matter where they were in the house or what they were doing. As soon as they heard the garage door opener, they came thundering into the kitchen and jumped up on one of the islands, and they’d purr and chirp and knead as soon as he came in the door.

Someone who loved animals as much as he did? Someone who animals loved as much as his—and mine—loved him? How was I supposed to not turn into a stammering mess with heart eyes when I was around this guy?

Fortunately, he didn’t notice my brain shorting out because he was focused on the cats in question. After they’d been brushed, he started on their claws, putting each cat in turn in his lap like toddlers who needed their nails clipped. Bear squirmed and flopped comically, reminding me of a Muppet, but Anthony just held each paw still and carefully clip-clip-clipped all the offending claws. A couple of treats later, Bear had forgotten all about the torture and was sitting on his perch, staring outside.

Moose stayed still and quiet for most of the pedicure process, though if looks could kill…

“He isn’t happy, is he?” I asked.

“Nope.” Anthony clipped another claw. “He’s going to snap at me in a minute or two.” Clip.

I raised my eyebrows. “And you’re… okay with that?”

He shrugged as much as he could without jostling Moose. “Nah. I just know to expect it.” Clip. “He has some tells, so I know when to get out of the way.”

“Uh-huh.” I wasn’t sure how someone got out of the way of a giant mouth on a creature sitting in his lap, but okay.

Clip. “He’s a good kitty. He just doesn’t like—”

Moose lunged for Anthony’s wrist, but Anthony deftly got his arm out of the line of fire. Moose was now upright in Anthony’s lap, standing nearly eye-level with him. His ears went flat and he hissed, which… Okay, he was just a housecat, but he was fucking huge, and he looked scary as hell, hissing like that with his ears down. I couldn’t imagine having him do it right in my face.

Apparently not fazed in the least, Anthony cocked his head. “You finished?”

Moose glared at him.

Anthony looked right back at him. “I only have a few left, drama queen.”

Moose’s ears slowly came back up, and he gave a little huff as he tucked his paws under his body.

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