Page 149 of Dirty Pucker

He turns and flashes a soft smile as he looks at me. He presses a quick kiss to my lips. “Thanks for letting me be sad and grumpy about our playoff loss for a little while.”

“Of course. You needed to process your feelings about it. I get it. How’s Blomdahl doing?”

Del frowns at the ground. “He’s still taking it pretty hard.”

Poor Blomdahl. Denver and Boston made it to game seven of the playoffs—each team had three wins and were fighting hardduring that seventh game. They were tied two-two at the end of the game and went all the way into overtime. Just two minutes into overtime, Boston’s best player managed to sink a puck past Blomdahl.

The whole team took the loss hard of course, but Blomdahl took it the worst.

I still remember how he collapsed face-first onto the ice after Boston won. He stayed like that until one of his teammates pulled him up. And when he took off his helmet, he was crying, he was so devastated. My heart broke for him. To feel responsible for your team’s loss must be soul-crushing.

“He played incredibly,” I say. “He has no reason to feel bad about anything.”

Del nods. “Yeah. We all agree. And we told him that. But it’s hard for him. He still feels responsible for the loss, no matter what anyone says.”

“I hope he finds a way to get through it.”

Del sighs. “Me too.”

We walk through the door and the friendly receptionist greets us. We head toward the section that houses the cats. We stroll around and look at the cats in their cute little condos.

“What are you thinking? Do you want a kitten or an adult cat?” Del asks.

“I’d be happy with either,” I say.

I stop and look at a sleeping pair of gray tabby kittens. The sign on their cat condo says a family has reserved them. I smile at how cute they look snoozing on top of each other.

We pet an adorable long-haired kitten that looks a few months old. It’s also reserved.

“Part of me feels like we shouldn’t get a kitten,” I say. “Those are always the first to get adopted. Everyone wants one. It makes me feel bad for the older cats.”

Del loops his hand in mine and kisses my temple. “You’re really sweet to think about that. But you should get whatever cat you want. If you want a kitten, get a kitten.”

I turn to him, smiling. He always prioritizes what I want. Whenever we can’t decide on where to go for dinner or what show to watch, he always lets me choose.

My heart flutters in my chest when I think about how he always makes sure that I’m happy.

I drop a kiss to his mouth. “You always let me do what I want. What do you want?”

He flashes that sexy half-smile I love so much. “I want what you want, sweetheart. When you’re happy, I’m happy.”

My heart slingshots around my chest. This man. How did I get so lucky?

I spot a chunky black cat lying in his little condo, sleepily blinking. I skim the information card on the front of the display.

5 years old, male, neutered, current on all his shots and vaccines. He’s a bit grumpy and standoffish at first, but once he warms up, he’s an affectionate sweetie pie!

I grin and look at Del. “I know a guy like that.”

He chuckles. I open up the door and gently slip my arm inside. I reach out my hand to the cat’s face. He slow-blinks again and sniffs me. I hold my breath as I wait for him to check me out. After a few seconds, he rubs his face against my palm and starts to purr.

My eyes go wide and I gasp. I turn to Del, who’s grinning like he’s amused. I gently scratch behind the cat’s ears. He purrs louder.

One of the workers walking by stops and looks over. “Is that cat purring?” she asks.

We both nod. She shakes her head and looks at the cat, like she’s in disbelief. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that cat purr. Or look that relaxed.”

My tummy flips in excitement.

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