Page 58 of Burn Bag
I tried not to let his harsh description bother me. Yes, cats multiplied quickly. Especially if they were barn cats, but they also had shorter lives outdoors. These poor things hadn’t deserved what was about to happen to them.
“Look, I promise, I’ll take care of it.”
“Soon,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me.
I held up my injured hand as a promise, but also because I wanted to remind him I was injured so he wouldn’t be so hard on me. Luckily, it worked. His face softened immediately and he sighed.
“At least by the end of the week.”
I nodded, grateful for the reprieve. “Definitely. I’ll work on it as quickly as possible.”
“Now I see why you got so much cat food. You aren’t hiding more than the seven cats, are you?”
“No, I swear.”
“I thought maybe that burn incident was some kind of way to get out of trouble yesterday,” he smirked. “Like you were hiding another litter, but didn’t know how to tell me, so you burned yourself so I wouldn’t be mad.”
“I would never do that.” Cry? Absolutely. Purposely injure myself? Not a chance. I hated hospitals, which he now knew.
“Well…” He rocked on his heels, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Yeah, this was awkward. It was like we were having some kind of morning-after talk, except there had been no sex. So, here we stood, both of us unsure of where to go from here.
“So, you don’t cook.”
“No,” I smiled, shaking my head. “And I’m not the best housekeeper either.”
“Well, I sort of figured that when you said you stored extra dishes in your oven.”
“Hey, plenty of people do that!”
“Okay, so we’ll need to hire a housekeeper.”
“And probably a cook,” I added.
“I can help out with the cooking. You handle the litter boxes. Under no circumstances do I want to touch litter.”
“Of course,” I agreed. Hey, I was just happy he was letting me keep the kittens for a little longer. “I’ll take care of it right now.”
I slid my flip-flops on and grabbed some trash bags for the boxes. I’d have to clean them multiple times a day with seven kittens. I started scooping the litter, but quickly found it difficult with the big bandage on my hand and arm. Seriously, this was the most ridiculous thing ever. I didn’t actually need it.
Marching into the kitchen, I found the scissors and was just about to cut the damn bandage off when Bradley caught me.
“Whoa! What do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting rid of this.”
“Why? It’s there to protect you.”
I dug the scissors under the bandage and ignored him. “Well, it’s in my way. I can’t do anything with my hand all wrapped up. Besides, the litter will only get inside and then be trapped underneath it. It’s not sanitary.”
He grabbed the scissors out of my hands with a grunt of disapproval, ignoring the scowl on my face. “I’ll do it.”
I held out my hand, but he marched away. “Hey! I’m over here!”
“Not that,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll clean the litter boxes.”
“But you don’t like cats!” I argued, chasing after him.
