Walk Through Fire (Chaos, #4)(119)

High’s girls were going to fall head over heels for those kittens.

But right then, he was watching his Millie, alight with happiness, snuggle two tiny balls of fur and he did it fighting to breathe.

They weren’t her own babies.

But they were something to cherish.

There was no doubt she was going to cherish them.

And he was around so he got to watch.

Millie looked to the breeder. “These babies are the best things I ever spent money on.”

The breeder smiled.

Millie turned back to the kittens. “Time to go home,” she told them, then looked to High.

He forced himself to move. “Crates, babe.”

She nodded but asked, “Don’t you wanna meet them?”

He didn’t.

It wasn’t that he disliked cats. It was just that he was a dog man. He’d wanted to get a puppy for the girls for years but Deb didn’t like animals.

It was something he intended to do when he got a house. Buy a dog for them and for him.

Now they were all getting cats.

With the way Millie was right then, he didn’t mind.

But before he could say no, Millie shoved her right hand to him so he had no choice but to take hold of the boy kitten.

Christ, he was a squishy-faced grumpy cat. He looked kitty ticked.

He also stretched out a paw and clawed High’s whiskers with his thin baby claws, his big blue eyes staring at High with an intelligence High’d never noticed from any animal.

“Hey, Chief,” he muttered.

“That’s it,” Millie said, getting close to him. “He’s Chief.” She looked down to the cat she held. “And this little princess is Poem because only a poem could describe how beautiful she is.”

She’d always been good at naming precious things.

The memory made his voice rough when he said, “Let’s get them home, baby.”

Millie looked to him, searched his face, and smiled a sweet little smile.

“You’ve fallen in love,” she declared.

He had.

Twenty-three years ago.

“He looks pissed off,” High replied, and looked to the kitten. “But it’s a cute pissed off.”

“You’ve so fallen in love,” she returned, then stuck the other one out to him. “Here, try this one.”

She took Chief and gave him Poem and High looked down at her.

She was pretty, though she looked sad.

“Hope you’re smilin’ on the inside, darlin’,” he murmured to the cat. “?’Cause you’re goin’ to a home where you’ll get lotsa love.”

The cat yawned.

Millie giggled and pressed her side to his.

High looked to her, then to the breeder. “We’ll get outta your hair.”

She nodded, looking content, and she would be, seeing as it was clear she found a good home for her brood.

“Keep in touch,” she invited. “Send pictures.”

High guided Millie to the two cat crates he’d bought as Millie replied, “I will. Tons of them.”

“That’d be great,” the breeder returned.

They got the cats into the crates and got them out to his truck.

High pulled out of the drive and headed them home, doing all this with Millie twisted in her seat, cooing to the backseat constantly.

“Woman lives fifteen minutes away, Millie. We’ll get them home before they’re traumatized,” he teased.

“I can’t take my eyes off them,” she said. “They’re that perfect.”

He reached out and curled his fingers around her thigh.

“Happy?” he asked.

She didn’t answer.

So he looked her way and saw her eyes on him.

Before he turned back to the road, soft, sweet Millie finally answered.

“Yes.”

He heard it in that word.

He should have known it.

Five days he had her back.

Just five.

And the way she said that word, he knew.

She’d been fixed.

It had nothing to do with High. It had nothing to do with cats.

It had everything to do with Millie.

When she wanted something, she didn’t f*ck around.

She’d been broken.

After putting her together, she’d been fragile.

Then she’d toughened up, sorted her shit, and got on with it.

So yeah.

He should have known it.

That was his girl.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Mom Jeans


High

FUCK.

Fuck.

“Babe,” he warned on a growl.

She kept at him with her mouth, body tucked between his legs, having woken him up to get to his dick. All he’d done was cock his knees, stay down, and get blown.

He wouldn’t know but evidence was clear, giving spectacular head was like riding a bike.

You didn’t forget. Not any of it.

Or at least his girl hadn’t forgotten.

“Millie,” he grunted. “Beautiful.”

She kept at him.

Which meant she was going to take him.

And she did when he blew. Through the phenomenal orgasm, he felt her tongue move on his cock when she swallowed and he felt the sucking strokes as she milked it all out of him.