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“They’re going to do it.” Sky holds still.
A second later the kittens go up on their hind legs, showing their bellies and front toe beans as they waddle to each other and take swipes.
“They’re drunken baby bears acting tough with their murder mittens.” They tumble over, then bounce up with arched backs and flattened ears.
“I could watch them all day,” Sky says with a giggle.
“How are we ever going to get any sleep?” I brush Sky’s hair and kiss his forehead.
Sky’s face morphs into horror. “They’re not sleeping with us!” He sits up and sets the babies on the floor. “They’ve never slept with humans, so we aren’t spoiling them by teaching them it’s an option. Daddy and papa sleep in the bed while baby kitties sleep in their own space.”
“That’s not fair.” I gather him in my arms, riling him up as foreplay. “Not even for my birthday?” I snake a hand under Sky’s shirt to tease his nipples.
“It’s not close to your birthday. But speaking of birthdays”—he arches into my touch—“we need to figure out a present for Brant. Twenty-one is a momentous occasion, and he deserves more than a bunch of hockey bros pouring liquor down his throat.”
“What do you have in mind?” I pull him onto my lap, and the kittens use my leg as a climbing wall to get between us. “Some people say black cats are crazy, and others orange cats are unhinged.” They’re still so tiny I can stretch my palm out and scratch both their heads.
“We can be the definitive cat expert on that. Right, babies?” he murmurs to them, then returns to the subject. “You’re a great gift giver. What’s on his dream list?”
I crack my neck. “We can’t get Brant what he wants, which is some mystery dude who’s off-limits.”
“We don’t have to decide now. You’ll think of something.” We cuddle the kittens, and I lose track of time.
The doorbell rings, and I jump up, taking him with me. “Shit. The babies have to stay in here. We can’t risk them getting out.” They follow me to the door. “What do we do?”
“Calm down, Daddy. They have a playpen.” He scoops them up and deposits them in a large cardboard box with blankets and water. “Who’s at the door?”
“My turn.” I take his hand and head for the entryway. “If you don’t love it, and I mean really, truly love it, we can get something else,” I preface, and open the door. One delivery guy is in the doorway while the other waits with a moving dolly at the bottom of the stairs.
“Delivery for Maher?”
“That’s me,” I say. “One second, before you bring it in, he’s got to approve it.” I show Sky a picture of the chandelier I bought.
He gasps and covers his mouth. “Shut up, you did not.” His eyes glisten, and he shoves my arm.
“On our Valentine’s date, you loved the ones in the restaurant so…” I gesture to the huge box. “Ta-da,” I repeat what he said earlier. “It’s not kittens, but we can return it if—”
“It’s gorgeous.” He leaps in my arms and wraps his legs around my waist. “Will they install it?”
“I didn’t get you a half-ass gift.” I back up, holding him under the ass and motioning for the delivery guys to bring it inside. “Installation included.”
The guys bring it in and carefully remove the chandelier and packing material.
Sky bounces on his toes with his hands intertwined in front of his chest. “I feel like a real adult.”
“Angel, you’ve been adulting for years. This is an accessory for the house.” I stop him from running over to the chandelier. It has a black circular base with eight light bulbs and a swirl of crystals that amplify the light when on.
“Best accessory ever! This is the second-best gift I’ve ever gotten.”
It’s hard not to take that personally, so I ask, “What’s the best?”
“You.” He kisses my lips.
One delivery guy says to the other, scoffing, “Young love.”
It takes over two hours for them to install it, so Sky heats Maria’s meal for us. He asked her to join us, but she declined. Sky joked she’s afraid we were going to parade around naked but assured her we wouldn’t do that to the kittens.
Now we’ve brought out the love seat cushion to lie on and stare up at the light.
