Page 34 of Betting on the Brainiac

He grins. “Yes.”

“Good. Now you can research how we figure out our girl and boy count.”

He sighs but tugs his laptop toward him and types so fast I’m not sure the sound of the key strikes keeps up with the speed of his fingers.

He clears his throat. “We probably better let the vet figure it out.”

“It’s that har—uh, complicated?”

He presses his lips together, clearly swallowing another laugh. “Yes.”

“Really?”

He shrugs. “The term ‘palpate’ is used several times.”

I tuck my floof back against my chest. “Definitely the vet. I’ll take over kitty logistics today, and you can go back to your upstairs spot. I’ve got this.”

He leans forward, arm resting on the tabletop, and meets my eyes. “Madison, I’m glad I got to help with Operation Kitty Rescue, so thanks for letting me.”

His simple sincerity surprises me. His eyes are hazel with a wide gold band at the center that shifts to a darker color at the edges. A brownish green, which sounds like pond scum, but it’s pretty.

“You’re welcome.” I frown. “Wait, I should be thanking you.”

“How about if we agree that we did what decent people would do and call it good?”

I tilt my head, studying him closer. He doesn’t fidget, but his eyebrows dip slightly, an unspoken question, maybe asking what I’m looking for. I don’t know. Guile? Motive? The moment he’ll turn this into a chance to flirt? It happens more than it doesn’t.

None of that is in his expression. I’m going to make this weird if I keep staring even a second longer, so I break off the eye contact to brush a finger over Tuxie’s soft head. “Deal. Good for us for being decent.”

“We should definitely always celebrate doing the bare minimum.”

I give him another smile. “We need bumper stickers for that. Start a movement.”

“I sign away all creative rights,” he says as he straightens. “Go for it. I’ll get back to work, but will it bother you if I stay down here?”

“Because you love the kittens now?” I tease him.

“I’m not afraid to admit it.”

“Won’t bother me at all, but I’m going to move them closer to the office so I can keep an eye on them while I perform my duties as the new head of the Floof Foster Federation.”

“I’ll do it.” He slides out to close the carrier door before offering to help me up.

I’m pretty light, but he still pulls me to my feet without any effort. He waits for me to take the lead and follows me to the office.

“Inside the office or in the hall?” he asks as Tabitha gives an irritated meow.

“Inside,” I say.

He sets the carrier in the corner, where it juts a few inches past the doorway. “Is it okay right here? I could put it against the back wall, but I don’t want to get in your way if I come to do official observations and safety checks.”

I smirk at him. “Right there is fine, and you can pet them whenever you want. It won’t bother me.”

“Cool.” He crouches to open the carrier door again and reaches in slowly. Tabitha allows him to pet her.

“Oliver?”

“Yes, Madison?”

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