Sixty-five minutes and three rounds of “no, we’re not playing now” is what it took to get Stripe and Shadow down for the night.
Now that they’re officially adopted, they’ve decided to test the limits of their bedtime privileges. Who knew two tiny furballs could morph into toddlers with zero respect for boundaries?
Cami insisted on tucking them in with a fleece blanket and two fuzzy socks, one for each. Apparently, that’s a thing now because it worked.
Once they were down for the count, I pulled Cami into the shower, which turned into something more. First against the tile. Then tangled in these sheets. Now we’re nose to nose, her leg draped over mine.
Moonlight slices across her cheekbones and the bridge of her freckled nose. In the distance, waves crash like a lullaby. Slowly, I feather my fingers along her side.
“Ten days.” I press a kiss along the hollow of her eye. “And no dizzy spells.”
She trails her fingernails along my bicep, sending a ripple of heat through me. “I know.” Her smile is tranquil. “I’ve been counting, too.” A quiet beat passes before she whispers, “Thank you. For stocking the pantry. For checking on me. For making me feel safe.”
“I’d do anything for you, Cami. You’re worth it, remember?”
I can feel her breath on my lips, warm and a little uneven as my thumb brushes the edge of her rib cage.
The look in her eyes tells me she’s about to ask something simple that carries weight. “How does it feel to be a cat dad?”
I huff a laugh. “Feels unexpectedly right. What about you? How does it feel to be a cat mom?”
She exhales through her nose, something caught between a laugh and a sigh. “I think I’m still adjusting.”
“To ‘cat mom’ or…”
“To whateverthisis,” she says, barely above a whisper, a million questions dancing in her eyes.
Quiet returns sharp enough to wrap around skin and settle in bones. I don’t know how we got here, netted in something we never meant to name. One month left. And still, we saidyesto kittens. As if that doesn’t spell commitment.
Christ. I could lie. Tell her we’re still not falling, still floating, that it’s just emotions and timing. But she deserves more than that.
“Yeah…” I trace the curve of her waist, needing her to feel what I can’t quite say. “We weren’t supposed to get this far.”
“And yet…here we are.” Her eyes search mine, unguarded.
“Here we are,” I echo, holding her gaze like it’s the only true thing in the room.
Hand settled at the small of her back, I tug her closer to me as we trade heated kisses between steady breaths. It’s ridiculous how westillkiss this way. Like a couple of teenagers sneaking around after curfew. Like we’re new. Like we haven’t already had our hands all over each other, naked, tangled up in every possible way.
When her body begins to soften with sleep, she shifts, turning away from me in that slow, instinctive way she always does, tucking herself into the space where my chest meets her back. I curl around her, one arm slipping over her waist, our legs tangled beneath the sheets.
Cami exhales, her breath melting into the hush of sleep.
And as my eyes begin to drift closed, I whisper into the dark?—
“I love you.”
CHAPTER 25
Cami
My eyes flutter open, something squeezing my chest—words I’m not sure I actually heard.
I love you.
Even if it was a dream, those three words linger, weightless and warm, like mist that hasn’t burned off yet.
A smile tugs at my lips as I close my eyes again, hoping sleep will carry me right back to wherever Knox said it…
