Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“Yes, I don’t want to interrupt book club,” he said with a shudder. “Especially when they’re talking about the sexy parts of the book. Those men have stamina I no longer possess.”
Sam chuckled and leaned forward to pat his shoulder. “None of us can live up to the book boyfriends,” he assured him.
It was nice to share a meal with our friends before we were dropped off at home. Of course, once we got there, I had a heart attack because Chilly was lying on the couch, stretched out and not moving.
“Sam,” I called him.
Coming back from taking Dobby out, he stood next to me, both of us staring at our very old cat.
Clearing his throat, Sam called his name, not wanting to touch him and have him not respond any more than I did.
Nothing.
At that moment, Dobby, annoyed that no one was paying attention to him, jumped up onto the couch and went over and sat on Chilly’s head.
In seconds, Chilly batted him off and sat up. He then gave Dobby two extra bats on the head with his paw and then moved to the arm of the couch and lifted his head for Sam. Moving quickly, Sam bent so they could have their normal top-of-head-to-chin greeting.
“I was scared,” I told him.
“You and me both,” he agreed, petting the cat. “I’m not ready for him to go on ahead yet. I need him to wait just a bit longer.”
Years ago, Sam had taken Chilly, on the day of St. Francis’s feast, for the blessing of the animals at his church. Sam had waited, with Kola and Hannah, for the priest, who was blessing lots of animals that day, for Chilly to have his turn. Apparently a lot of cats were in carriers, but Chilly sat patiently in Sam’s lap, and many people, including Father John, were impressed. The pictures from that day, people with their pythons and terriers, one lady had a miniature donkey, another a pig and parrot, were hilarious. But the fact of the matter was, when someday came and Chilly passed away, Sam would be gutted. He didn’t have pets growing up, as the taking care would have fallen to Regina and she simply wasn’t having it. Four children and a husband was enough. Later, when Sam left for the Marine Corps, he was glad not to be leaving a furry friend behind.
When we got Chilly, he wasn’t sure about a cat, having wanted, if anything, a dog, but when it was time to declaw our little bugger, that I didn’t know any vet who even did anymore, Sam had been the one to put the brakes on that, getting him many scratching posts instead. He’d done some research and didn’t like what he read. He was also, to this day, the only one Chilly would allow to cut his nails, and Sam was a wizard with the clippers. He also cut Dobby’s, which was impressive because if I tried, he’d bite me. He bit Hannah on a number of occasions. I had a theory that because we violated his space so often—he was small, easy to pick up, just like Chilly—that both of them resented us and would take out their revenge whenever possible. Sam, however, never picked up either animal unless Dobby did his weird parallel-park thing that apparently Chihuahuas did, offering the pickup, or like Chilly did, and stretched halfway up Sam’s leg so there could be no mistake what he wanted. As a result, they both liked him better. Kola also pointed out that Sam was the alpha of the house. There was no doubt about that.
When Sam went into the shower, I joined him. I didn’t normally, he liked his alone time in there to think or plan, but this was getting sweat off after dancing, so I figured it was fine.
It was more than fine. I was shoved up against the subway wall tile and kissed breathless.
“You looked so sexy tonight,” I told him as he kissed up my throat.
“Well, you were awfully pretty in your shorts with the pockets hanging out and your Aloha shirt as well.”
I had looked ridiculous. He, on the other hand, had looked edible. And I told him so before I lunged at him.
We went from the stall, to the bathroom floor, to the bed, because Sam liked me to ride him, and he was not about to have sex on a rug no matter how fluffy it was.
“I’m a grown-up and everything,” he rumbled, hands all over my skin. “I have a bed for this kind of thing.”
I laughed and he kissed me and then I was moaning and begging, and that was how my New Year’s Eve went. Later, as I was lying in his arms, held tight, cuddled close, I told him how lucky I was.