“Four.” Loki’s eyebrows rose. ”Astonishing you have any time to call your own.” He shifted Macrowafter to rest in the crook of one arm, sliding his other hand into his trouser pocket. ”…it is a rather lengthy story.”
“After the first two they’re self-amusing.” Summer let herself have a little moment to admire the very fine man standing there, eyes flicking up and down his lithe frame, before she reined herself in. No use getting caught up in someone so obviously closed off. You didn’t have to be an empath to read that.
“I’m sorry, am I keeping you? If you get me started on certain things I have to be shut up, and I’m afraid cats is one of them.” Summer gave a self-deprecating shrug and a sardonic little laugh. “Just because I’ve nothing to do with my time right now, I forget the same isn’t true of others.”
His gaze flicked over her again, and then back down to Macrowafter.
“…do cats require playmates? I know little of these creatures, I’m afraid.”
Both her brows arched up. “Would you like some advice? I’ve had — well, been had by cats all my life.” Her tone was very dry. “Cats do what they want, and you please them, or suffer the consequences. On the other hand,” she gently scratched under Cat’s willing chin, “the rewards are quite nice too.”
Summer glanced back up at Loki. “Tell you what, why don’t you drop this fella off where he belongs, and come up to my place, meet my four. I can teach you all about being a slave to cats.” Her faint southern accent thickened slightly on the last words.