Page 91 of Bonded By Christmas
Wilder plucks it out of the box, and Callum holds up her hand so Wilder can slide the ring on. There’s a chance it might need to be sized, but I doubt that’s the ring she’ll wear daily, anyway. It has a monster-sized center stone with smaller stones around it. It gives it the effect of being a flower, but that sucker has to be six or seven carats.
The faint sound of meowing draws closer, and I spin to the side just in time to catch the kittens barreling through the kitchen.
“Do you hear that?” Lacey asks.
“I’m quite sure it’s nothing,” Callum says, lying unconvincingly.
“Menace! Mistletoe!” Collins sounds frantic as he chases after the pair.
Only, they skid into the living room.
Lacey trips over Wilder in an attempt to see what’s happening, and he grabs her hips similarly to how he saved Vanessa’s drunk ass from face-planting at the warehouse.
The exact moment she spots them is obvious because her hand flies to her mouth.
“Oh, please tell me those are for us,” she whispers, stumbling forward.
“They’re yours, sweetheart,” I say, grinning like a fiend. “We were going to give them to you in the morning.”
Collins smiles tightly, and I regret not buying him a kitten.
Now that I think about it, he’s here with us for Christmas, and this place can get really damn lonely, even when it’s not over a family-related holiday. Maybe I can talk Lacey into letting him keep the psycho kitten who likes to attack my beard.
I mean, they’ll both live together here in the house with us.
Fuck.
We do not need a third cat.
I switch over to the camera, snapping a few pictures of Lacey as she meets the kittens.
Callum and Wilder make their way over, and I shut off Cal’s phone before going to see if I can catch the crazy one that’s back to doing zooming laps around the room.
It’s unreal how quickly things change, but I’m a fuck of a lot happier now than I’ve ever been. Even if I have to learn how to scoop out a litter box. Oh, and protect my face from unhinged kittens with a personal vendetta against my beard.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Wilder
The following night, Lacey snuggles on my lap with Mistletoe on her chest. The tree lights twinkle in the background, and the sweet kitten purrs softly. Lacey seems to enjoy it more than when we purr for her.
We should have gotten a dog.
She runs her fingers down Missy’s back, and my mom’s ring glints in the crackling light of the fireplace. It’s Lacey’s ring now, but it still makes me emotional.
This Christmas has been healing on a foundational level. I’m no longer that sullen teenager who hated the world and thought everything was unfair. It was a tragedy that my mom died so young, but life keeps moving no matter how heartbroken you are.
Having Lacey at my side soothes those raw edges that haven’t truly enjoyed a holiday since we buried my mom.
Callum sits on the floor with one of the kitten’s toy wands. It has a blue and purple bird, and Menace violently attacks the thing. I can’t bring myself to call her by her nickname of Minnie. That name is far too innocuous for that creature, and she’s only been unleashed from Collins’s room for twenty-four hours.
They found their way back to sleep with him last night, and I found that especially sweet. I’m not sure how long it’ll last, but they seem to treat him like children treat their mother when they’re very young. They wanted to come out and play, and when they got tired, they immediately sought him out.
Collins needs the company more than we do, since there are four of us fighting for bed space. I would also love it if we could keep them out of the pack bedroom so I could avoid cat hair on my suits. That’s probably wishful thinking.
“Whatever you’re thinking about is confusing.” Lacey turns her face up to mine, smiling softly. “You got your hopes up, then they were dashed all in one.”
I chuckle, brushing my hand over her stomach. “Just thinking about all the lint rollers I’m going to need to buy.”
