He walks over and curls up on the couch beside her, giving everyone except Luna a warning look. Because she's perfect, and the rest of us are all suspects.
“I still can’t believe they’re having kittens.”
Mr. Pickles glares at me with contempt, as if I said something horrible.
“What?” I raise my hands. “I didn’t say anything bad.”
He lays his head back down, one eye still on me like he’s her security detail.
Violet comes up beside me, her shoulder brushing mine. “Callie is already planning names,” she says.
I glance over. “Of course she is.”
“I’ve narrowed it down to a theme,” Callie calls out.
“That sounds dangerous,” I mutter.
“It’s cohesive.”
“That’s worse.”
I shake my head and sit, pulling Violet onto my lap.
“I can’t wait to marry you,” I whisper.
She hugs me closer. “Me, too. Although there’s still so much to do. Invitations. Cake. Rings?—”
I grab her hand. “Stop stressing.”
She raises her brows. “Since when are you Mr. Calm and Collected?”
I grin. “Since you started acting like me.”
I pull her in for a kiss.
When I release her, I say, “Besides. You have a binder full of wedding details.”
She lets out a laugh that has me smiling from ear to ear.
“Oh, great. Here we go with the sappy Hallmark lovey-dovey shit,” Callie grumbles.
“Don’t hate on love just because you date losers,” I retort.
“I don’t date losers,” she says defensively.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Ivy asks Callie about names for her future kitten, which effectively ends our arguing.
Violet takes it all in, amused. “This is home.”
I look around the room.
She’s right.
It is.
Which is funny because it never truly did before.
