Wills was coming from the kitchen. He was talking to someone.
Shit. He must have brought a coworker home. Well, it was the season of good will toward men, and there should be enough pizza for all of us.
“Okay, let’s go in the living room, put on the tree lights—”
I blew out a relieved breath. He hadn’t been there yet.
“—and…”
I scowled when I realize his voice was soft and low and filled with such tenderness. I’d never heard that tone in his voice before—it was either relaxed and casual or hoarse with passion when he was with me. A stab of jealousy ripped through me. Who had he brought to our home?
“We definitely need to get a rug that feels like this, Miss Su, so Poppa and Daddy can roll around on…”
Miss Su? Poppa and Daddy?
Wills came to a halt when he saw me. He was wearing the pants of the black silk lounging pajamas I’d given him for his birthday, but his torso was bare. So were his feet.
“I hope you don’t mind, Wills. I didn’t feel like cooking, so I picked up a couple of pizzas.”
He looked from me to the table and back to me again. “I like the way you think.” He licked his lips.
There was something in his arms. I blinked when it raised its head and deep blue, slightly crossed eyes met mine.
I stared at the kitten.
He held it out to me. “Merry Christmas, Theo.”
“Wills! He’s mine?” I thought of Faster, the big black and white cat Wills had met when I’d brought him to Tarpon Springs to meet my mother. Poppa hadn’t approved of pets in the house, but somehow Ma had convinced him otherwise. It had been ages since I’d had a kitten. We couldn’t have one because we never knew if a client was allergic or not.
“She’s yours.”
“Oh, Wills.” I took her and adjusted her so her hind legs were supported by one arm, while her forelegs were braced on my other. I dropped a kiss on her head, hugged her close, and rubbed my cheek against her fur. It was so soft. Her small body vibrated with her purring. “She’s beautiful!”
“I…er…I saw how much you liked playing with the kittens the last time we were up in Cambridge.”
That was for the Memorial Day weekend. “Yes.” Jill, his stepmom, raised American Bobtails, and she’d planned to give him the little female, Jasmine, for his birthday.
Wills’s gaze grew hard.
The neighbor’s pit bull had gotten loose and attacked the kitten. Princess Kimba and Jad-bal-Ja, Jasmine’s parents, had gone after the dog, doing such damage that Hugh Herendon, the dog’s owner, had reported the Mathesons to Animal Care and Control. When the officers had seen what the dog had done to the kitten, the complaint had been dismissed, and they’d asked Jill if she wanted to file a complaint. Jill wanted to—while Jack had taken the kitten to the vet to see if anything could be done for her, Jill had taken Marti to the pediatrician. Marti’s chores involved helping Jill with the cats, and she loved them all. She’d seen what had happened and had been unable to stop crying.
Because it had been the dog’s first offense, all that had come of it was that General Custer wasn’t allowed to be out of the house without a muzzle. When Wills had learned that, he’d gotten that cold, flat look on his face, and I’d tried to console him. He’d been rough in bed that night and left marks all over my body. The next morning he’d been aghast when he’d seen them and had apologized profusely. Not that I’d minded; I’d had worse.
A few days later, Jar had called. “General Custer is gone,” he’d told his brother with quite a bit of satisfaction. “Mr. Herendon says somebody must have stolen him, but Mom thinks they got rid of the dog themselves and are just saying that to save face.” Everyone in the neighborhood had given them the cold shoulder after the kitten’s death.
All Wills had said was, “Bad owners make bad dogs. Too bad it wasn’t Herendon who was stolen.”
He smiled at me now. “Princess Kimba surprised everyone with another litter in September, and I told Jill to make sure I had one to give you for Christmas.”
“What’s her name?”
“Marti’s been calling her Tiramisu, but you can change the name, babe.”
“She does look like tiramisu with her coloring and all. Hello, Tiramisu.” I rubbed the soft fur under her chin, and she slitted her eyes and purred louder. “Thank you, Wills.” I kissed him. “Let’s eat. Then I’ll give you your present.” I set the kitten down on the table, and she sniffed inquisitively at the pizzas. “Can she have some bacon?”
“No, Theo, not unless you want to spend the night sitting up with a kitty who has acid indigestion.”
“Sorry, Miss Su.” I’d much rather spend the night making love with Wills. “No bacon for you.”
“Beer, babe?”
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
Wills went into the kitchen, and I lit the candles on the table. We might just be having pizza for dinner, and we might be eating it off paper plates, but I still intended to make it festive.