“It was my pleasure.”
Still, we remained.
“You need help up, don’t you?” I asked as he lingered.
“Yup. I’m stuck,” he admitted. Pressing his mouth to my temple, I felt him smile against my skin as my chest started to shake with silent laughter.
“Don’t worry, pickle, I’ll help you,” I taunted, a small, teasing smile lifting my lips.
Gren burst out laughing at that, then lost his balance and toppled backwards. Yowling, he cupped his shins. “Pins and needles,” he hissed through clenched teeth, though he was still laughing at the cheek of his mate.
∞∞∞
Soda mess cleaned up, Gren still pink with a flush from having his mate scoop him up and cart him to the couch with his dead legs, to be left there while I hurried to clean up the mess I’d made, not all was lost—we’d managed to save a few cans of soda.
Bringing a cup of ice and a can over to him, he smiled gratefully as I popped the top and poured him a drink. Taking the glass with murmured thanks, he was halfway through a long chug before I remembered, “If you’re in here,” my gaze darted to the back door, “then who’s-
As if to answer for me, a crash sounds outside.
“Shit!” Gren popped up, almost knocking his drink over as he scrambled to stand. Rushing out, he nearly sent me crashing into the table. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he shouted but kept going.
A strangled snarl issued from outside as plates crashed. “Crooks! You goon!” Greniv groaned out.
Following out to the back patio, my eyes widened as I took in the scene. Candles and red sauce, everywhere. Broken plates, silverware, his little outdoor dining area was in shambles. Most notable was the robust, chonkers of an orange Tom smack in the middle of the carnage.
Deftly dodging broken dishes and tipped over candles, the tabby covered in red sauce bounded towards the deck and hopped onto the railing.
“I’m afraid the Garfieldian Menace has struck again,” he muttered in disgust. Glaring down at his new looking dark green patio table laying on its plastic side, plates and a large glass dish with lasagna goop residue splattered everywhere, he looked utterly defeated. Fat candles and melted wax mixed with the mess that had once upon a time looked lovely, I was sure.
“It smells nice?” I blurted, glancing from the kitty walking along the top railing of the deck daintily, eyeing me, to his Marsh man.
“Crookshanks, you’re a fiend,” he muttered.
Crookshanks. I liked it. “A swamp cat had me once. I called her Mrs. Norris, but she looked a bit more like a Minerva,” I babbled, when it looked like my Marsh man was trying not to blow his top or maybe even cry.
Gren blinked, glancing up from the wreckage of the once intimate setting. “Did you really?”
Crookshanks let out a deep, yowling noise that had my lips twitching up into some semblance of a smile. Needy Tom. Even after all that he was demanding more. Total swamp cat, this one.
“She was a wild thing,” I murmured, eyeing Gren’s swamp mate. A swamp cat chose you, not the other way around. You were well aware of just how thoroughly they owned your butt. “Cliffie had a Golden-Shepherd mix named Steve Rogers growing up.”
“I like him a little more already.” Gren chuckled a little but it seemed forced. Stepping out of the debris, he sighed in disgust as he made his way over to me. “I’d say we should go out to eat, but I don’t wish to share you with anyone tonight…”
My hand lifted and I pointed it at him like it was loaded. “No alphabet pasta,” I said quickly, to his chagrin and warring amusement.
“No alphabet pasta,” he said on a soft chuckle.
“Pizza?” I blurted, glancing around for an answer. “And a movie, maybe?”
Gren glanced from the dinner that still had him frowning, to me. “That’s okay with you?”
As if to answer for me, Crookshanks leapt off the railing and rushed right between my legs, sending me stumbling as his large, extra fluffy kitty person knocked my ankles on his way inside the house. “Oomph!”
Gren caught me, grunting as he accepted my weight.
“Oh- Oh- Oh my! I- You okay?” I asked quickly, scrambling to right myself.
Gren’s arms around me tightened, leaving my upper half smooshed to him. “More than okay.”
