Page 95 of Desperately Seeking Kitty

“Your mouth moves at exactly the perfect Kitty speed.” Clint wove his cold fingers through my hair. Already I knew he had a tendency to forget to wear his gloves outside. “Babe, your dad is here.”

“Here?” I peered over his shoulder at the closed kitchen door. “How would he know to come here?”

“He didn’t. He was waiting for you at your place. Let himself in with a key and was playing with the cats. Although when I used my key to let myself in,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “let’s just say your dad has some moves.”

I covered my mouth. “Oh, no. Oh, God. He’s not still doing that damn karate stuff.”

“I would say yes, he is, and no, I didn’t appreciate being a test dummy though I like his dedication to his craft.”

“Are you okay? Do you need to go to urgent care?” I nudged his hand away to massage the back of his neck while he made altogether inappropriate noises that explained why his sister charged into the room.

“Seriously, with a full house in here? If I can’t get any, you’re damn not sure getting freaky deaky on my watch—” Felicia stopped short then let out a laugh that sounded more like a hiccup. Guess someone had been into the mini bar already.

Not that I could blame her. What a day.

“Hey Kitty, your dad is looking very awkward out there. You may want to come talk to him.”

“Do I have to?” I squared my shoulders and jumped back as Lucky took a swipe at my ankle from his carrier. “Should I let them out?”

“Probably. Little monster broke his carrier mobile so he’s acting pissy. Where’s Charise?”

We both looked around and found her eating the wet food in the bowl Magnus had left for her before high-tailing it out of the room. She looked up, food stuck in her whiskers, then promptly teetered forward into the bowl.

She just kept eating.

“Grant mentioned she has cerebella hyperplasia,” I said quietly, holding up a hand. “We’ll talk later. I’ll deal with my dad. You deal with my beans for the stir-fry.”

“What about the fur kids?” Felicia asked, grabbing a bean from the platter and taking a loud chomp. “You’re just going to let them run wild in here?”

“They’re cats, Fee, not a herd of buffalo. I’ve got them.” Clint gave me a quick kiss and said under his breath, “Better them than my family before work.”

“Oh, wait.” I grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “That was why Grant called. I’m supposed to keep you from going in tonight by any means necessary.”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about. Though how you’ll manage that with every flat surface in this place taken up with bodies—” Felicia chomped another bean. “At least we’re going home soon. Well, the family is.”

Clint exhaled heavily. “Praise Jesus, my prayers have been answered!”

“Smart ass.” Felicia whacked him on the back. “Dad told Mom to stay home, that everything was under control here, no family breakup seemed imminent, so turkey fest is back on. Apparently, your table doesn’t have enough extra leaves.” She shrugged.

“You’re just going home?” Clint asked dubiously.

“Mom has summoned everyone back. So you know Dad won’t refuse her. But I’m not going home. Even the most succulent turkey isn’t worth all that insanity with Theo’s imminent coronation. He’s about to bust his suspenders.” She rolled her eyes. “Magnus is trying to get a hotel room but it’s just not happening with the holiday. So we might just crash here once the fam clears out. You cool with that? We can be discreet, I swear.”

After this morning’s display, I had my doubts.

“Crash anywhere you want. We’ll just go back to Kitty’s and barricade the doors and windows.” Clint rubbed his temple as he slid me a glance. “Change of plans. You go talk to your dad, and I’ll find the Advil.” He gave me a grim smile. “And the bourbon.”

TWENTY-TWO

Felicia hadn’t been lyingabout the Hausers intending to clear out almost as fast as they’d blown in.

Not that they’d left yet but the man in charge had made it clear they would be disembarking to head back to Clintondale soon—probably as soon as the last green beans were dumped in the garbage disposal. They were slightly over-caramelized.

Hey, sue me, I was new to this whole cooking for a crowd deal.

Truly, the length of trip they’d all put in didn’t seem to warrant the shortness of the visit, but the accommodations were really not able to handle all of them—and it wasn’t even all of them, because some of them had wisely decided to turn around before they’d even arrived.

It was for the best, really. Especially when it came to my mental health. I could not deal with meeting this many people at once—important people to Clint, no less—with so little prep.

---