Anne McAllister - Savas's Wildcat

Something else she didn’t want to think about.

Finally she reached the small porch, shoved open the door and heaved the suitcase inside. The cats loped toward her, then wove between her ankles, purring and meowing.

“Food,” she translated and fished a can and their bowls out of her suitcase. While they were eating, she filled the litter box that Gran kept for their visits. By the time she finished Hux and Baz were back, looking for more food.

“Tomorrow,” she told them sternly “Now just chill out and let’s get some sleep.”

They purred a bit more, but she resolutely ignored them. She was too exhausted to think. Her brain buzzed. Her eyes felt scratchy.

At least tonight, with Gran in the hospital, she wouldn’t have to sleep on the sofa.

She went into the bathroom and stripped down to her T-shirt and underwear, too tired to dig through her suitcase for a nightgown. Then she brushed her teeth and shook her head at the sight of her bloodshot eyes in the bathroom mirror. Then, yawning, barely able to keep those eyes open, she pushed open the door to the bedroom, flicked on the light …

And stopped dead.

Yiannis— and a baby —were fast asleep on Gran’s bed.

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