Jericho stood, then fell onto the couch beside him, wrapping his arms around him. “What’s going on, Freckles? You good?”
Atticus nodded, dropping his head to Jericho’s shoulder. “I was just having a bad day.”
“And now?” Jericho asked, kissing his temple.
Atticus gave a big sigh. “Better.”
Jericho frowned. “Did something happen at work?”
Atticus nodded. “Yeah, but I’ll tell you about it tonight. I don’t want to talk right now. Is that okay?”
“You know it is,” Jericho promised.
After a few minutes, there was a timid knock on the door, and then Arsen’s muffled voice said, “Uh, boss? You know, Honda guy is coming back in, like, thirty minutes, right?”
“I’m coming,” Jericho called.
Atticus snickered at his turn of phrase.
They righted their clothes, and Atticus followed Jericho out. “Come on, Freckles. I’ll walk you to your car.”
Atticus nodded, allowing Jericho to take his hand. When they reached the Volvo, Jericho pushed him back against the driver’s side door, giving him a soft kiss. “Are you heading back to work?”
Atticus looked down at his hopelessly wrinkled shirt. “I think I’ll head home. I’m pretty sure I have your greasy palm prints on my Armani dress pants.”
Jericho smirked, giving his ass a playful squeeze, before chucking him under the chin. “Hey, you came to me, Freckles.”
Atticus frowned, his gaze darting down to stare in horror at something. Jericho followed his gaze, chuckling when he saw a tiny kitten clawing her way up Atticus’s pant leg.
Jericho reached down to extricate its claws from Atticus’s favorite Armanis. Its body was pure white, but its ears, tail, and feet were all gray and black stripes. It had pretty gold eyes, too. “Looks like you made a friend.”
Atticus curled his lip at the tiny ball of fluff, like Jericho was holding a sewer rat. “I hate cats.”
Jericho chuckled at the vehemence in Atticus’s voice. He pushed the kitten towards him, and it began to mew at him. “I think she likes you. She climbed right up your leg to get closer to you.”
“Sounds like you,” Atticus said, tone prissy, still glowering at the kitten.
Jericho held it up higher. “Look at that face. How can you be mad at something that looks like it’s wearing little boots?”
Atticus rolled his eyes. “Easy. It’s dirty and probably riddled with disease.”
Jericho shook his head. “Well, good thing you’re a doctor. You’re great with diseases.”
Atticus scowled. “Are you saying you expect me to keep this…tiny little rat?”
“Of course not. I mean, you could if you wanted. It would be nice having a pet around the house. But maybe you can drop it off at the no-kill shelter down the road? She’s going to get hurt out here all alone.”
Atticus sighed, staring at the kitten for a solid minute before he scooped it up, holding her to him. “Fine. I’ll drop it off at the shelter.”
Jericho sighed, leaning in and smacking another kiss on his cheek, laughing when the kitten protested. “I’ll see you tonight, Freckles. Try to get some rest. Did you remember to defrost the chicken?”
Atticus gave him a haughty look. “I don’t forget things like that.”
###
When Jericho pulled up to the building, he hopped out of the Bronco, turning off the engine when he didn’t see the valet. He was almost to the stand when Diego came jogging around the corner. Jericho waved and tossed his keys in Diego’s direction. The boy caught them easily, calling, as he climbed into the car, “Did you see that game last night?”
Jericho laughed. “Yeah, I think this is our year for the championships.”
