Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
And hours later, as I crawled into bed pushing cats out of my way as I did, I pulled her sleeping body to me and slept like a baby.
Don’t cry at home, cry at work and get paid for it.
—Keely to Brecken
KEELY
There were cats everywhere.
“So what the hell are we going to do with them all?” I asked the group of women.
Milena, Nastya, Brecken, and I stared at the cats that’d all been separated into crates.
“There are fifty left,” I stated. “And all of them are mostly kittens.”
“I can’t believe that your brother took the Serval.” Brecken laughed.
Copper had taken the Serval.
Their personalities right now suited each other well.
Both of them were cranky and angry at the world.
And neither one of them got along with Chevy right now.
Shit.
“They suited each other well,” I echoed my thoughts. “We can take them to the club again. See who wants one from there.”
“I have a friend that I think might take one or two,” Brecken offered. “I met her at the school this year. She’s a brand new first year teacher, and she’s looking for a new furry friend.”
“Oh, I have a few I can ask, too,” Desi, Nastya’s stepdaughter, cried out. “Let me make a few calls!”
I loved Desi.
She was so peppy and excited all the time, unharmed by the dark part of life.
It took us two hours, but between our social media posts, our friends, and family, all of the cats but seven were adopted.
We delivered them all, until we were left with a random smorgasbord of kittens.
“Hey, didn’t you say that Natasha’s friend took care of the cats when she was busy?” Desi looked over to me.
My mouth opened slightly, and a dawning sense of horror washed over me. “I forgot all about her.”
I immediately called Dima, who muttered a few choice words under his breath.
“He’s on it,” I added.
We’d just met up for a quick drink at Milena’s coffee shop when a woman charged out of her car, heading toward the bakery.
“What is that about?” I wondered.
“Maven’s not there,” Nastya called out. “The bakery is closed for the day!”
The woman looked over at me and her eyes widened.
Dorie.
Oh, boy.
“Oh, boy.” Milena echoed my thoughts, having recognized her.
“I was supposed to pick up a cake for my engagement party an hour ago, and I forgot!” she cried out, then her eyes narrowed. “New friends, Keely?”
I rolled my eyes. “Family.”
Her mouth curled into a sneer as she realized Milena was the one speaking to her now.
“What’s the name of the order, and I’ll go see if it’s there,” she offered.
“I’d rather not.” She turned on her heels, but stopped when she got to her car. “I know it was your boyfriend that shot mine.”
My brows rose. “And?”
“And I’m not going to forget it,” she grumbled. “Have a nice life.”
“What was that about?” Milena asked curiously.
I explained, which had Milena rolling her eyes. “Cutter always implied that she was a little out there.”
“She’s more than out there,” I returned. “But she’s not a threat.”
That didn’t stop me from texting my man about her anyway, just in case.
And later that night, when I showed up with what was left of the seven cats, he didn’t bat an eye.
Only helped me let them out of their cages.
“This is only for tonight, right?” he asked, his eyes slightly pleading.
I grinned. “We have a foster home set up for them tomorrow. She’s driving in from out of town.”
He blew out a relieved breath. “Thank God.”
I didn’t bother to ask about the texts I’d sent him today.
I knew he’d handle it.
That would be the way that it always was for us.
Me trusting him to protect me always.
No matter what he had to do to accomplish that.
Should I have probably cared that my man was capable of cold-blooded murder?
Probably.
But did I?
No.
Maybe we were both just a little bit wrong in the head…
I always see adults pour glasses of wine and only fill it halfway. And I’m like okay, one of us is doing it wrong, and I think it’s you.
—Keely to Dima
DIMA
I woke to a mouthful of cat hair.
I grumbled and shoved the cat that was closest to my face away, then rolled over to see if Keely was still in bed.
She wasn’t.
Though, I could hear the slight strains of her off-tune singing coming from somewhere beyond the master bedroom.
When I got up, I displaced three more cats, all of which let their displeasure be known.
“Y’all are never sleeping in here again,” I grumbled.
Both the cats and I knew it was a lie.
Every night I locked them out, and every morning, they made their way into our room after Keely walked out.
Keely didn’t try to stop them because she thought it was cute.
But it wasn’t her waking up with cat ass fur in her mouth from a very fuckin’ fluffy cat sleeping on her pillow.