jerzwriter-reblogs-asks

A large serving bowl was splayed across the bottom rack like it had been tossed there in defeat. She lifted it gently and shook her head. Yep, it was blocking the spray path in its entirety. Stoneware plates were wedged in varying angles, two of them spooning each other more perfectly than she and Tobias managed to do themselves.

There was a charcuterie board standing at attention and three mugs occupied the front row...right side up. Silverware was dropped into the basket in a chaotic cluster that left several forks nested together like they were there to be intimate, not cleaned.

Well, she laughed to herself, they are Tobias’s forks.

She attempted to pull out the top tray, but couldn’t as a large saucepan that had no business being there jammed it in place. That was her last straw.

“Tobias,” she hollered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Can you come here. Please?”

He all but raced into the kitchen, his signature smirk on his lips.

“What’s the matter, princess?” He asked. “I thought you were coming right back.”

He took a step toward her, but thought better of it when he saw the way she stood over the mangled array of dinnerware shoved into his overpriced Miele. Somehow, he knew he might be in trouble.

“What,” she said with a strained voice, “is this?”

“The dishwasher,” he deadpanned. “It’s a Miele – top of the line, actually – it has a....”

“Tobias – this is not a dishwasher,” she snapped. “This is a cry for help!”

He stepped closer, playfully glancing her way. “It’s fine,” he shrugged.

“Fine?” Casey asked, her eyes narrowed. “This is not...fine.”

He wanted to take this whole thing seriously, but a chuckle escaped him nonetheless.

He reached for her, pulling her close against him. “You’re being dramatic,” he said, hoping his amorous advances would steer the conversation.

They did not.

“Please tell me that you gave your... staff... off today. Was this the first time my poor little rich boy had to load a dishwasher by himself?” She looked down at the abomination, her judgment beginning to morph into pity. “If that’s the case, thank God you have me here to help you today.”

He glanced at her, his mouth twitching.

“For the record. I do not have staff.”

“You have a housekeeper,” she countered.

“Twice a week, on Tuesdays and Fridays. So does half of Boston,” he defended. “That’s not... staff.”

Casey’s lips twisted into a teasing grin. “Debatable.”

He laughed under his breath. “I know how to load a dishwasher.”

“Do you?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but she grabbed his hand and led him toward the defiled appliance.

“I need you to see this.” She crouched and pulled out the lower rack. “Bowls are not supposed to be placed like this. And plates - plates should face inward. Like this.” She shifted two into proper alignment. “You’re creating dead zones.”

He raised a brow. “Dead zones?”

“Yes. You’re blocking the water stream! It can’t reach anything. You’ve created a ceramic fortress.”

He folded his arms, watching her with delighted amusement.

“And this,” she lifted the charcuterie board. “What on earth were you thinking?”

“It fit,” he shrugged. “You seem to feel very strongly about this.”

She ignored him, continuing to arrange things properly, then pushed the racks in and stood.

“There,” she said, clapping her hands with approval. “All better!”

Tobias looked at the dishwasher, then turned to Casey with a look that was equal parts amused and... aroused.

“That,” he simpered, “was incredibly hot.”

She turned to him, faintly suspicious now.  

“Hot?”

He took a slow step toward her.  “Incredibly.”

He took another step, leaving almost no space between them. His hands found her hips, and he leaned in behind her, his mouth hovering by her ear.

“Hot,” he repeated, his fingers sliding along her waist.”

“I just reorganized a dishwasher,” she said, with a soft giggle.

“Exactly,” he hissed. “I may have to keep you around.”

Casey grinned. “Because I know how to properly load a dishwasher?”

“For many reasons,” he murmured teasingly as his hands moved lower.

The look on her face shifted. She leaned back into him, letting out a small gasp when his mouth brushed just below her ear.

“Well, if you think that’s impressive,” she replied. “Wait until you see what I do with your linen closet.”

That earned a low groan.

“You know,” he said, already smiling against her skin, “the linen closet happens to be upstairs. Right beside my bedroom.”

She turned in his arms then, looping hers around his neck, her eyes bright with mischief.

“Well,” she replied, “then we’d better get to it.”

He let out a laugh before lifting her easily.

She noticed the bright red envelope by her cubby the moment she walked up and dropped her chart onto the counter. She lifted it and tried to place it in her pocket surreptitiously, but there were too many witnesses nearby for her to achieve that.

Bryce was the first to notice, and he wasn’t about to let it go.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair with a theatrical flair. “What’s going on over there, Kaycee. Looks like you’re Miss Popular today.”

Kaycee shot him a look, envelope still in hand. “Hush!" she said. "Is this from you?”

“Moi,” he said, feigning offence. “Not me. We said no strings, my dear – remember? And Valentine’s Day? That suggests... strings!”

“Did someone say Valentine?” Sienna squealed, popping up beside Bryce. “That’s adorable!”

“It’s not adorable, it’s gross,” Jackie added, disgruntled. “Unless there is cash or a gift card in there. If that’s the case, I hope this fool left me a card, too.”

Elijah, who had been observing with amusement, chimed in. “Well, that’s reason to open it up right now! I wanted to know who it was from, but now, all I care about is if there was cash involved!”

“If there is – lunch is on MacClennan today!” Bryce announced.

Kaycee gently shoved his shoulder. “Thank you all for being so normal about this.”

“Open it!” Sienna demanded. “Come on, Kaycee, we want to see who it's from!”

“No.”

“Open it,” Jackie echoed.

Bryce slid next to her, wrapping an arm over her shoulder with a sharpening grin. “Open it, MacClennan.”

Kaycee exhaled slowly, looking at her name written in big, block letters across the envelope.

“This is the penmanship of a serial killer,” she muttered, and Jackie quickly agreed. However, she pointed out that a wealthy benefactor who was a serial killer might be worth managing with student loans to repay.

Mostly to shut her friends up, Kaycee slid a finger under the envelope flap to open it.

Inside, she found a small card with a cartoon teddy bear holding a big red heart with the words Be Mine. A message - in the same block writing - said, “Happy Valentine’s Day, beautiful. Roses are red, violets are blue, I’m so glad I’m here at Edenbrook with you.”

No signature.

“All right, which one of you did this?” Kaycee demanded – and all held up their hands, declaring innocence.

“Well, if there’s no cash, that means it could be any of us," Elijah laughed.

Kaycee shook her head. “I really don’t suspect any of you.”

“Then who?” Sienna asked, snapping her fingers. “Do you think it is the patient in room 305?”

“Oh, yeah!” Elijah nodded. “You have to admit, Kaycee, he seems to have his hospital gown open anytime you walk in.”

That elicited a groan from Kaycee, a chuckle from Bryce – but Sienna was still attempting to find the romance in it all. “A secret admirer is so romantic!” she cooed.

“Said just like someone who has never watched a single episode of Law & Order,” Jackie chided. “Let me tell you – a poor serial killer is definitely not worth the hassle.”  

Kaycee looked at the back of the card. “Well, they did spluge on three dollars to fail to write their name.”

“Three dollars?” Elijah said. “In this economy? That’s true love, right there.”

“I say we look over the staff schedules and patient lists over the past 24 hours,” Bryce chimed in. “We can narrow this down.”

“Absolutely not,” Kaycee laughed, but the fun was cut short before she could say another word.

“MacClennan!”

The single word cut through the air like a blade – and every intern straightened at once, except for Kaycee. No one needed to turn to see who it was. Dr. Ethan Ramsey’s voice alone sent waves of terror through interns’ souls – no one got out of Edenbrook's residency program unscathed.

He stood at the end of the station, his unreadable expression somehow showing more disdain and carrying more authority than shouting ever could. His gaze moved across the group, inevitably landing on the red envelope in Kaycee’s hand.

Bryce cleared his throat. “We were just trying to...”

“I can see what you were doing,” Ethan interrupted. “Or more accurately, what you weren’t doing. If you have this much free time, I’d be happy to correct that.”

“Nope,” Jackie said, already gathering charts. “No need. I was just leaving these clowns behind.”

Elijah grabbed a tablet, and Sienna vanished with impressive speed. Bryce shot Kaycee one last look, saying we’re not done here before retreating down the hall, and then just the two of them remained.

Kaycee leaned back casually, entirely unaffected by the crumudgeonly attnding’s presence. Ethan’s eyes flicked back to the card before returning them to her face.

“You’re an intern, not a high school student, MacClennan,” he said in a measured tone.

Kaycee blinked. “Are you saying I’m accountable for someone leaving a card for me?” A wicked smile appeared on her lips. “You sound envious, Dr. Ramsey.”

“I sound like your attending,” he glared.

“My attending who didn’t get a Valentine from a secret admirer,” she said teasingly.

For the briefest moment, she swore she saw amusement in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly she second-guessed her assessment.

“I assure you,” he said dryly, “I won't lose sleep over that.”

“Sure,” she smirked. “Don’t worry, Dr. Ramsey – the day’s not over, there’s still hope for you.”

“Highly unlikely,” he said, and Kaycee was impressed, because that came with the slightest bit of a laugh.

She shrugged. “You never know.”

A brief silence filled the air – it was familiar, charged, and, as always, ignored. Then a pager went off, bringing them back to reality.

“Room 412,” Ethan said, but Kaycee was already on the move.

“On it.”

She headed down the hall, the Valentine tucked into her pocket, a move Ethan didn’t miss. He watched her until she was out of sight.

"This absurd holiday is almost over," he mumbled, with a shake of his head.

~~~~~

The hospital always felt like a different place late at night - and tonight was no different. The bright feeling that filled the corridors early in the day was deflating as fast as the mylar balloons. The lights were dimmed, voices soft – it was a time Ethan had come to appreciate – heaven knows he was one of the only doctors of his stature who still found himself there this late.

Exhaustion was etched on his face when he returned to his office, and he was relieved to fall into his chair. He removed his glasses, carefully placing them on his desk before rubbing his eyes - and that's when he saw it.

A small, red paper heart was lying in the center of his desk. It was cut unevenly, as if it had been done by a child, but folded neatly in half.

He let out a chuckle and reached for it – opening it at once. Inside, he found a message written in a neat, beautiful script.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, and I’m here to say - you’re not as heartless as people say.

PS – Sorry,  that’s the best I could do.

Oh, and don’t worry - that secret is safe with me.

Xo”

Ethan read it – more than once – a hesitant smile playing on his lips. A slow breath escaped him, something between a sigh and a quiet, disbelieving laugh.

“Of course,” he said out loud – knowing exactly who left this for him.

He leaned back, the paper heart still open in his hand, and logged into his laptop to see Kaycee’s schedule. He was disappointed when he realized she was already gone for the day.

For months, this woman had been getting under his skin, and he did all he could to keep that boundary in place. He was an attending, she was an intern. It was a simple line he was unwilling to cross because he knew all too well that, once crossed, they could never be redrawn, and the fall-out would be swift.

Still, this small, ridiculous piece of construction paper had warmed something inside him more than he wanted to admit, even to himself.

“You’re not as heartless as people say,” he read out loud, his faint smile growing wider.

He carefully folded the paper again, placing it into the pocket of his lab coat. He knew he wouldn’t reply – it was doubtful that he'd even acknowledge it – but he couldn’t deny this little moment had made his day. It felt good - and it felt dangerous. But as he walked toward the elevator, he knew one thing was certain: his own heart felt as light as the paper one tucked away in his pocket.

"Dangerous," he said, pressing the elevator button and watching the doors close - but he couldn't wipe the smile off his face if he tried.

Casey. He smiled softly just thinking of her. She wasn’t a woman defined by roses and clichés. No, to him, she was the warmth that brought him through the cold Boston winter. The laugh that could make him smile on his darkest days. She was the light who changed his life, and he loved her. God, he loved her. This Hallmark holiday paled compared to what they shared.

Still, she deserved to feel special on Cupid’s holiday, and Tobias was going all out. He had already ordered the roses – two dozen to be delivered to her at the hospital where they both worked, and another two to their home – well, his home, but she really spent all her time there. He already secured chocolate-covered strawberries in a heart-shaped box – her absolute favorite. And, for good measure, he bought her favorite perfume.

There were still three days until the holiday, but he had it choreographed better than a Tony award-winning play. They’d start with a couple’s spa day at a spot they both loved. That would be followed by a candlelit dinner at Yvonne’s, and afterward, let’s just say what he had planned for her back home made even him blush as he meandered through the rows of red teddy bears and overpriced sweets.

His fingers finally closed around a simple card - ivory paper with a delicate gold script. Its inscription was simple: With you, everything feels like home.

He smiled to himself. “Yeah, this is it,” he said – when a voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Tobias?”

He turned and came face to face with someone from another lifetime. It had been years since he had seen Rachel Graham, but now she stood just a few feet away. She wasn’t hard to recognize – she looked mostly the same, polished and composed - her delicate features framed by wavy brunette hair that was a few inches shorter than he recalled. And her perfectly arched brows lifted in mild surprise.

“It is you,” she smirked.

“Rachel,” he said carefully. “Hi. It’s been...”

“A very long time,” she replied.

They exchanged the brief, polite pleasantries expected from people who once knew each other in ways that now felt distant. It was an awkward exchange, but not unkind. Then her gaze dropped to the card in his hand, and a soft chuckle escaped her.

“So, who’s this year’s victim?”

The words hit Tobias harder than they should have, his own eyes widening in response.

“Victim?” He said quickly. “There’s no... victim. This is for Casey, my girlfriend, I love her, and...”

He paused because something in her expression caught him off guard. Leaving him feeling cold and defensive in a way he didn’t quite understand.

Rachel folded her arms. “Oh, come on, T. Valentine’s Day? It was always your favorite holiday. Wine, dine, impress… and then some poor woman wakes up in your very expensive sheets, honestly believing you might call again. I’m sure there was a local support group or two back in the day.”  

Tobias’s jaw tightened. “That’s not fair, Rachel.”

“Isn’t it?”

“I was always honest back then,” he said, more firmly. “I never promised anything serious. The women I dated - they knew what I could and could not give. I never gave anyone false illusions.”

She tilted her head, not quite believing. “Maybe. But you also knew when they cared about you a lot more than you did in return – and you were more than happy to let them hope anyway – as long as you got what you wanted.”

The silence fell thick between them. He could hear the words she didn’t say, “including me.” His defences fell. He knew he had never meant to harm her, but he also knew that we don’t get to tell others if we hurt them, so he softened.

“I’m...I’m really sorry if I hurt you,” he said quietly. “That was never my intention.”

Rachel shook her head, raising a hand protectively. “It’s ancient history, now,” she replied, sternly, but not unkind. “Trust me, I’m fine, Tobias. You did no permanent damage here.”

Her eyes flicked back to the card in his hands.

“But, I’ve hoped you’ve changed – for this Casey’s sake. Otherwise – best of luck to her - she’s going to need it.”

And with that, she was gone.

~~~~~

Tobias didn’t want to admit it as he walked home on the cold city streets, but Rachel had gotten to him. No matter how hard he pushed the thoughts away, they kept returning.

Was I that bad? He thought. But the question that haunted him the most was -  and have I honestly changed?

The thought terrified him. His past reputation was colorful, for sure. Even those who loved him most had him painted as an eternal bachelor – his mother and aunties had long given up on expecting more from him. But that wasn’t him anymore, he thought. He loved Casey with all his heart. What they shared was real, deeper than anything he’d ever known in his life. He was confident of that, but Rachel’s voice lingered in his mind, chipping away at that confidence bit by bit - which upset him more than he wanted to admit.

~~~~~

Casey was in the kitchen when he stepped inside. The sleeves of her blue sweatshirt pushed up, long blonde hair pulled into a ponytail atop her head as she stirred something that made his former bachelor pad smell like something he had only recently come to know. Her face lit up the second she saw him.

“Hey, you!” She beamed. “You’re early! I tried a new recipe, and I’m not sure if it’s going to work, it’s...”

She stopped mid-sentence when she saw his face. Because she could read him better than anyone in the world, and one glance told her that all was not right. She placed the spoon on its rest and wiped her hands with a towel, stepping toward him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly.

He hesitated, choked on his own words when he started to speak. Then the truth tumbled out without a second thought.

“Are you happy with me? Because I’m… I’m not sure I deserve you.”

Her brow knitted together. “Tobias, don’t be ridiculous,” she replied. “You know how happy I am, and we both deserve each other. Where is this coming from?”

So he told her – about Rachel, about his past, of which Casey was already well aware. But Rachel’s words wouldn’t release him, nor the fear they ignited in his heart – fear that maybe, deep down, he was still the cad people once believed him to be – and Casey deserved so much better than that.  

Casey listened without interruption, and when he finished, she took his hands in hers.

“T,” she said gently, “we’ve all made mistakes. We all look back at things and wish we had made different choices. That’s part of being human. The fact that you’re even reflecting on this says something. People grow, we change – if we do it right – and I think you are.”

She gave him a small, crooked smile. “And if I remember correctly, Boston’s former Casanova did the impossible. He spent months at my side as I walked through the worst time of my life -  celibate as a monk – even though neither of us knew if I’d ever be more than your friend. That doesn’t sound like a shallow, careless man to me.”

She watched him swallow.

“And, besides,” she added softly, “We’re already time-tested. I mean, our relationship is relatively new… but new-new. It may be our first Valentine’s Day...”

He huffed a quiet laugh at their ongoing argument, recalling last year’s freezing Valentine’s trip to an alpaca farm. They were two idiots hopelessly in love, but pretending they weren’t.

“That was our first Valentine’s Day,” he insisted.

“It absolutely was not,” she said, with a smile that melted his heart.

“You were never a bad person, Tobias. Sure - you liked your freedom and weren’t ready to settle down. Maybe you misjudged some situations, but at least you were honest. And... you’re not that man anymore.”

Her eyes were shining brightly as she gazed up at him.“You’re the most loving partner I could have asked for. I think I’m the lucky one in this scenario.”

He felt something inside him break loose. Warmth and love rushed in to fill the crevices where guilt and doubt had started to settle.

“So,” he smiled faintly. “You don’t mind being stuck with me?”

Her smile answered him before a word was spoken.

“I plan on being stuck with you as long as you’ll have me.”

“Then we’ll have to keep loving each other when we’re old and gray,” he murmured, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “Because I never plan on letting you go.”

“Good,” she said, jumping into his arms.  

This kiss that followed was soft and slow – filled with the comfortable familiarity between them, but never devoid of the fire that burned underneath. When they parted, she reached into a small bag on the counter and handed him a tiny chocolate heart.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

He let out a little laugh. “But it’s three days away.”

She shrugged, playfulness in her eyes. “When do we play by the rules? We can start celebrating early.”

He stepped toward her, letting out a little groan when his hands found her hips. Dinner sat forgotten on the stove.

“Then I say we start right now...”

And they did – right there and then. And for the remainder of their lives together, Valentine’s Day would always be a multi-day event filled with the playfulness and love that defined who they were. And one thing was for sure: the two of them? They were forever. ❤️

Happy Valentine's Day!

Then, to his shock, Casey didn’t drop Pete’s arm; in fact, she tightened her grip around it.

“Game?” she questioned, blinking up at her husband with wide, innocent eyes. “What game?”

Tobias lifted his brows – amused, concerned...confused.

“All right,” he grinned like the Cheshire cat. “Cute, babe - but do I need to remind you we’re married?” He tapped the ring on his finger lightly for effect and went on with a wink. “And you’re married to me. Come on, can anyone else possibly compare?”

At the bar, Ethan rolled his eyes, muttering, “Jesus,” under his breath as Casey let out a melodic laugh. Still not letting go of Pete, she reached up and dragged her fingers over Tobias’s jaw, tracing the edge of his bemused smile with something soft and a little dangerous in her eyes.

“Of course not, my love,” she said sweetly. “That goes without saying. But I’m married, not dead.” Her gaze flicked deliberately back to Pete. “And look at him. I mean, he’s… he’s really hot, T.”

Behind them, Bryce let out a low whistle as Merida waved down the bartender. “Please, shots, for all of us. We're going to need them for what we’re about to witness.”

Olivia covered her mouth, her wide eyes sparkling. “You don’t think they’re really going to – I mean, do you?”

Bryce handed his beloved a Jolly Rancher shot. “Watch and learn, my dear,” he kissed her forehead. “Watch and learn.”

Tobias blinked, at a loss for words, for once - something that wasn’t lost on Ethan. “You’re... you’re serious.”

“I mean, we’re open-minded,” she shrugged, with a wicked smile. “And I think Pete would be a memorable addition to our repertoire for a night. Or, you know… two. Or three. Depending on how it all goes, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” Tobias nodded - as if there were any question.

Ever the team player, Pete leaned in toward Casey. “Well, you are hot as hell.” He glanced over at Tobias. “And you’re not so bad yourself. I’d be down.”

Bryce nearly choked on his drink.

“I think they’re serious,” Olivia whispered nervously.

Merida shrugged, patting Olivia’s knee. “It’s OK, we don’t judge... and besides, they won’t involve you.”

Tobias glared at Pete for a second. Then he calmly lifted his glass, draining its contents in one smooth gulp, his eyes never leaving Casey’s. Finally, he smiled.

“All right,” he said, casually glancing at his watch. “So, do you want to hang out here a little longer? Or should I go rent a room right now?”

Casey didn’t flinch. “Why rush?” she teased, leaning in close enough that only Tobias could hear her voice. “We’re having fun.”

Tobias leaned back, unfazed, his signature smirk on his lips. Pete, on the other hand, was beginning to crack.

“Uh, guys,” he said, finally releasing Casey’s arm and rubbing the back of his neck. “As much as that would be… really fun, I don’t, uh… I don’t think this would be a good idea.”

Casey pouted. Tobias tilted his head. “Oh, come on," Tobias chided. “You’re already here.”

“Yeah,” Casey added. “And we don’t bite – well, unless it’s requested.”

Pete laughed nervously, slowly backing away. “You two are… incredible. Really - and know it would be... memorable. But I’m gonna bow out before I accidentally ruin my entire life.”

Then, with a quick, polite nod, he was gone.

Tobias and Casey turned toward each other as Bryce appeared at their sides with two fresh drinks in hand. He handed one to each, and they immediately clinked their glasses together.

“God,” Casey said, grinning. “That poor man had no idea what he was walking into, did he?”

Tobias slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “The poor son of a bitch was no match for us, sweetheart.”

“No one is, baby,” she replied, resting her head on his shoulder. “No one.”

“And we’re thankful for that,” Ethan shouted from a few feet away. “The world can't handle more than two of you – the fact that the universe brought you together is dangerous enough.”

“I don’t know,” Merida chimed in, looking delighted. “I think that was extremely impressive!”

Olivia stared between Tobias and Casey. “You guys,” she blurted. “I was this close to thinking you were really going to do it.”

Tobias and Casey met eyes over the rims of their glasses, identical smirks forming in perfect sync.

Olivia’s eyes widened more. “Wait. Were you?”

“I guess the world will ever know,” Tobias said casually.

“I mean, we do,” Casey smiled. “But we’re not telling.”

Ethan let out a groan. “I’m not hanging out with any of you anymore.”

Merida slid an arm through his. “Like you have a choice.”

“Nope,” he sighed. “I know, I’ve got a life sentence with the lot of you.”

“That’s right,” Merida winked. “And that makes you one lucky man!”

“I just want to say,” she announced, though absolutely no one asked, “that this was the best idea ever! Iconic! I can't wait to jump in -  I feel so – alive!”

Tobias just stood there, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his North Face parka, his expression neutral. He looked… fine. Totally fine. Not at all like a man accustomed to the “balmy” winter climates of Washington D.C. and Boston, a man who had spent the better part of his life perfecting the art of avoiding hypothermia. Yet... here he was.

“Mmmh. Alive,” he hummed. “You say that now.”

Casey grinned, her eyes filled with delight. “Hey - you’re the one who signed us up for this,” she reminded.

“That was under the influence of far too much wine and absurd amounts of peer pressure,” he insisted. “Ethan called me a chicken. What was I supposed to do?” He sipped his coffee again. “Meanwhile, I'm sure his pale ass is at home, currently buried under an overpriced goose down duvet... and I’m... here.”

The sound of Casey's giggles filled the air and – just for a moment – he thought the sound alone might warm him to his core. “You’re going to love it!" She reassured. "Sure – it’ll be frigid for a moment or two, but then – you’ll feel amazing.”

He lifted a brow. “Have you done this before?”

“No,” she shrugged. “But my cousin Peter did, and he told me all about it.”

He exhaled through his nose, glancing toward the water where a small crowd of fellow “polar bears” were swaying to the sounds of the Beach Boys and Jimmy Buffett. But no amount of summer songs would make this fool’s errand easier – it was thirty-six degrees, and he was officially questioning every life choice that had brought him to this moment.

In the distance, a volunteer blew a whistle far too enthusiastically, and Casey began tugging off his clothes – an activity he usually enjoyed much more than this.

“Come on, Dr. Carrick,” she beamed. “You’ll love it - mind over matter! Besides, it’s for charity!”

“Fine,” he sighed. Stripping down to a black swimsuit that hadn’t seen the light of day since August on the Cape. The cold bit him immediately, and Casey saw his shoulders tense.

“Are you OK?” she asked with genuine concern.

“Yeah,” he smiled, good-naturedly. “But I’m a bit terrified.”

“Come on,” she said, taking his hand. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

They counted down with the group: three... two... one... then they were off – running toward the ice-encrusted water.

The first hit stole the air from Tobias’s lungs. It wasn’t cold; it was pure torture. He felt the frost climbing his legs, seizing his muscles, and he swore his brain would short-circuit.  

Beside him, Casey gasped, then laughed. Actually laughed. As much as he adored her, he found himself wondering if they were as well-matched as he had believed up until now.

“What is wrong with you, woman?” he said sharply, though his eyes were lit up with amusement.

“Oh my god,” she panted. “This is—this is incredible!”

“Incredible is not the word I’d use,” he managed through chattering teeth. He was very aware of his heart rate. He was also very aware of Casey splashing water at him like it was a summer day at the lake.

“I feel like my entire body is coming alive,” she beamed.

“And I feel like my soul is trying to escape mine,” he replied.

They stayed in the water longer than he had anticipated – longer than he thought was medically advisable.

“OK,” he finally said, voice tight. “OK, I am officially done.”

“Yeah," she said - a little sad. “We probably should get out.”

They stepped onto the shore together, skin burning as the frigid air assaulted them. Event volunteers were already draping towels over their shoulders as Tobias reached into the pocket of his parka.

Casey, shivering but still smiling, tapped his arm. “You hated it - didn't you?”

“I did,” he agreed quickly. Then he pulled out a small sprig of green, lifting it over her head. “Now – make it up to me.”

“Is that...”

“Mistletoe,” he said solemnly. “I brought it for warmth.”

“For warmth?” She laughed. “I don’t think that’s how it works!”

Before he could respond, she wrapped a giant, fluffy blanket around them, cocooning them together. Her cold hands found his chest; his chin rested against her temple. He dipped his head and kissed her, slow and deliberate, relishing the warmth of her lips against his ice-cold skin. She melted into it, laughter humming between them, the harbor, the cold, and thoughts of impending frostbite nearly faded away.

When they finally pulled back, she looked up at him with bright eyes. “So,” she says. “Are we going to do this again next year?”

“Absolutely,” he grinned, pulling her closer. “As long as we do it in July.”

“I mean, I cried over a stupid Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer commercial!” Casey laughed, though there may have been tears as well.

Olivia gasped – borderline offended. “Crying over that commercial is one hundred percent valid. Did you see the Land of the Misfit Toys? That whole island is just an emotional trauma wasteland decorated wth bows and glitter. I’ve been crying over it for decades!”

“Yes,” Casey smiled, “But this year... is worse.”

“Oh! It’s so much worse,” Olivia agreed, sobbing. The two women collapsed into each other, arms wrapped tight. They were two blubbering messes under a red fleece blanket lit up by the glow of a perfectly decorated tree.

In the kitchen, Tobias and Bryce exchanged sympathetic looks over mugs of steaming tea.

“Oh, boy,” Bryce muttered.

Tobias slowly stirred his hot chocolate. “We have officially entered the danger zone, my friend.”

“Entered?” Bryce asked, eyes wide. “When did we leave it?”

They worked in silence after that—tea bags steeping, cocoa steaming, chocolate chip cookies stacked high on holiday plates. They fell into a familiar rhythm - after all, they had both seen this show before.

Bryce shook his head good-naturedly. “You realize they’re going to be like this all month, right?”

“Yep!” Tobias grinned. “And we’re going to love them every second of it.”

Bryce snorted. “Yeah. We’re whipped – totally, and completely – whipped!”

They carried the mugs and plates into the living room, holding them out before themselves like peace offerings.

Olivia looked up first, tears in her eyes. “Oh my goodness! You made us tea? And cookies!” Her voice wobbled. “That’s so sweet.”

Casey accepted the treats as Tobias sat at her side, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. But then, she squinted at him over the rim of her mug. “You two were making fun of us... weren’t you?”

Tobias’s face reddened brighter than Rudolph’s nose – caught!

“Only in the most loving, deeply enamoured, totally obsessed with you way possible,” he said, leaning over to kiss her temple.

“He’s right," Bryce grinned. "You know we worship the ground our semi-emotionally unstable queens walk on.”

They all settled in—Bryce at Olivia’s side, Tobias pulling Casey closer. She exhaled, her hand drifting reflectively to her stomach.

“Are you just being so sweet because – well – you know – we’re having your babies?”

Tobias snorted. “Casey – seriously?” He rested his hand protectively over hers. “I adored the hell out of you long before you decided to grow a whole human... and I’m going to adore you long after you’re done.”

“Same,” Bryce said, placing a kiss on Olivia’s huge bump. “But right now?”  He looked between the women. “Right now we’re both in love with you about a thousand times more.”

The room went still – then Casey and Olivia stared at each other.

“You—?” Casey breathed.

“You too?” Olivia whispered.

Then they both burst into tears simultaneously, clutching each other’s hands as their partners held them close, giving each other eyes over the weeping women’s shoulders for moral support.

After the chaos settled and the hugs and gentle belly rubs tapered off, Olivia leaned back against Bryce’s chest, staring at the tree.

“I can’t believe that we'll be celebrating our next Christmas with our little ones."

Tobias tightened his arm around Casey, and Bryce kissed Olivia’s hair. The tree lights somehow felt warmer, matching the glow on the four friends’ faces.

Next year, there would be more stockings to fill, lots of midnight feedings, and so much more chaos – and they couldn’t wait. There was one thing they were all sure of - life couldn’t be more perfect than it was right now.

“All right,” he shrugged. “That’ll be seventy-five dollars.”

As they followed the dirt path toward the waiting wagon, Ethan leaned close, lowering his voice so Emma wouldn’t hear. “Kaycee... what do you think he meant by that? Do you think this ride is scary?”

“Scary?” Kaycee scoffed. “The only scary thing about it is the price. Seventy-five dollars?”

Ethan had to laugh. “Usually I’d be the one griping about that. Your role is to say, as long as we make family memories and get great pictures, it’s worth it.”

“And I’d be right,” she smirked. “There’s nothing better than pumpkin season! And I assure you – this is won’t be scary!”

A half hour later, she was eating those words.

The wagon jolted forward through a tunnel of barren trees draped in cobwebs.

“It’s all right,” Kaycee insisted. “They’re fake – it’s not like real spiders spun them.”

But as they rolled beneath the branches, dozens of rubber spiders dropped from above, prompting a chorus of shrieks.

“Great,” Ethan deadpanned, draping a protective arm around his daughter. “Perfectly wholesome family fare.”

Moments later, a bloodcurdling scream emerged through a thicket of trees, and Emma’s head shot up. “Was that part of the ride?” she asked, eyes wide.

“Probably?” He replied, though his voice was laced with uncertainty.

Before he could elaborate, a cloaked figure lunged from the trees, chainsaw roaring. The wagon erupted in screams, and Kaycee nearly launched herself into Ethan’s lap.

“Oh my God!” she cried, clutching his sleeve. "Why would they do this?" she cried. "It's a hayride!"

"I think you missed the word haunted in the description," Ethan grumbled, before carrying on about researching before we book an outing, but he stopped cold when he heard Emma’s delighted laugh breaking through.

“That was awesome!” The pig-tailed girl beamed.

Ethan's jaw dropped. “Awesome?”

“Yeah, awesome!” Emma confirmed, sticking her tongue out at a scary monster.

“You’re... you’re not scared?” Kaycee asked, breathless.

“No, Mommy!” Emma giggled. “It’s just pretend!”

Another shriek echoed as a headless horseman charged past them in the fog. Kaycee gasped – Ethan jerked so fast his glasses flew into a nearby hay bale. But Emma? Emma’s laughter only grew louder.

“Daddy, did you see that? He didn’t even have a head!”

“Yeah,” Ethan managed, forcing a smile. “I caught that.”

As they moved deeper into the woods, skeletons swung from branches, a mummy rose from a coffin, and a zombie clown stumbled toward them with a ghoulish grin. Kaycee’s heart was racing. Ethan shut his eyes. But with each new creature that jumped out at them, Emma’s exuberance only grew.

When the wagon finally pulled away from the trees, Ethan’s shoulders sagged in relief. Kaycee exhaled, half laughing, half trembling, while Emma beamed like she had conquered the world.

“Again! Again!” She screamed as Ethan helped her off the wagon. “Can we do it again?”

“You didn’t think it was too scary?” he asked.

“Nah!” she said proudly. “I’m brave. Just like you, Daddy.”

“Just like, Daddy!” Kaycee exclaimed. “What are you talking about? Daddy was shaking like a leaf!”

Ethan cleared his throat. “You’re right, Emma – you’re exactly like me!”

Kaycee straightened Emma’s scarf with a laugh, then looped her arm through Ethan’s.

“Just like you,” she whispered as they walked toward the cider stand, boots crunching over fallen leaves. “You screamed before me.”  

“I was startled,” he said, solemnly. “Not scared – there’s a difference.”

“There’s no difference,” Kaycee laughed. “You jumped higher than Anthony Edwards – but nowhere near as graceful.”

“Maybe next year, we should stick to apple picking,” he sighed, pulling her closer.

“Agreed! No masks. No chainsaws. Just apples.”

But Emma had different ideas. “Uh-uh!” She sang, hands on her hips. “We’re doing this again next year! But next time – can we sit closer to the front?”

Ethan groaned as Kaycee laughed. “Who does she get this from?”

“Beats me,” he said. “But next year, we’re sending her with Uncle Bryce and Uncle Tobias.”

“Would we warn them?” Kaycee smirked.

Ethan’s eyes twinkled with delight. "Now, where would the fun be in that?"

They had abandoned any hope of catching a flight hours ago and closed their laptops shortly thereafter. They promised themselves they’d share just one drink before retiring to their separate rooms – rooms - no more Miami slip-ups, that lesson had been learned. But one drink turned into two, two into three, and that’s how they found themselves here at this late hour.

At first, the conversation stayed in safe territory: research, patients, hospital politics. But eventually it steered into dangerous ground - childhood memories, first loves, where they saw themselves in five years. That’s when the tender looks started, punctuated with awkward silences that stretched on a moment too long until one of them inevitably broke the tension, cracking a joke or gently turning away.

Neither wanted to leave, not when the bar thinned out nor the snow continued to pile high outside. Finally, the bartender made the call for them.

“Sorry, you two,” he said, glancing up at the clock. “We’re closing up a little early tonight in light of the weather. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, not at all!” Kaycee replied at once. “Do you have far to travel? Will it be safe?”

Ethan’s lips curved faintly; that was Kaycee – his Kaycee - always concerned about others – as if he needed another reminder of why he loved her, even if she could never know.

Only when the bartender assured her he only lived three blocks away and, as a lifelong New Yorker, he wasn’t afraid of a bit of snow, did Kaycee relent, slipping a twenty on the bar. Ethan quietly slid it back, leaving a hundred in its place, making the bartender’s night.

The thick carpet muffled their footsteps as they headed to the elevators, their shoulders brushing once, then again, as if neither wanted distance, but they were terrified of what closeness could bring.

The elevator chimed on the twenty-third floor. “This is us,” Kaycee muttered.

“Yes,” Ethan said softly. “Us.”

Their rooms were at the very end of the hall, side by side. For two tall people, their strides had never been shorter – knowing when they reached their rooms, the night would be over.

The memory of Miami was still fresh in their minds. Ethan knew he couldn’t allow it to happen again, and Kaycee, well, she had made a vow to never feel that sting of humiliation and rejection again.

As they approached the doors, Kaycee paused. The keycard in her hand felt like a rock, and her heart raced in a way she hated to admit he could still cause. Ethan was close – too close - she could smell the faint trace of Scotch mingled with the clean cedar scent of his after-shave.

She closed her eyes, tempted, so tempted to give in. When she opened them, his gaze was fixed on her – unwavering, searching, as if a thousand memories were flooding his mind. A lifetime's worth of missed chances, but none greater than the one standing before him now. He’d turned her away once and regretted it every day since. He couldn’t make that mistake again.

So he kissed her.

It wasn’t like the kiss in Miami - it wasn't frantic, desperate, or driven by need. This was deliberate, certain – though no less full of passion. His mouth was on hers, warm and steady, asking, rather than taking.

Her fingers curled into his lapel, every inch of her body set aflame. She had dreamed of this when she slept, and when she was awake, it was all she ever hoped for. It would be so easy to pull him into her room, so easy to give in to what they had been fighting for so long.

But as the kiss deepened, something inside her snapped. She tore herself back, breathless, trembling.

“We can’t,” she whispered, her voice raw. It sounded like she was convincing herself as much as him. “All the reasons you pushed me away in Miami—they’re still here. Nothing’s changed, and…”

Her eyes glistened, torn between desire and resolve. She stepped back, silently begging him to contradict her, to tell her this was worth it, that they’d waited long enough.

But he didn’t. Ethan didn’t reach for her, didn’t argue. He merely swallowed, jaw tight, as if agreement was the only way to keep from breaking apart.

“You’re right,” he whispered, voice pained. “Goodnight, Kaycee.”

“Goodnight,” she replied, through quivering lips. Her hand trembled as she slipped the keycard into the lock. The green light blinked, and she disappeared inside without looking back.

She leaned against the closed door, eyes shut, listening to the muted sound of Ethan doing the same next door.

And then there was only silence—heavy, restless, silence filled with all the things they hadn’t said. Two hearts separated only by a single wall, but they may as well have been miles apart. Longing consumed them both, a hunger they couldn’t satisfy, but for tonight, at least, they kept warm with the memory of one stolen goodnight kiss.

Tobias sat with a coffee in hand, doing his best to stay awake after his failed attempt to convince Sammy that a cozy family snuggle in bed would be the perfect way to spend the morning. Her chubby little hand grabbed his and led him away. Casey didn’t even have to say a word; her grin said it all - No use trying – Sammy’s had you wrapped around her finger since the day she was born.

In the living room, Sammy sat cross-legged on the rug, her curls still askew from sleeping, and her favorite stuffed toy, Bunny, in her hand. But it wasn’t Bunny she was talking to. No, it was her other partner in crime that had her attention.

“Pietro,” she called, her little voice full of wonder.

The fluffy Balinese cat stretched in the spot of sun he had been napping in, flicking his tail in momentary protest before he rose and padded lazily across the floor, flopping down at Sammy’s feet. Tobias had to laugh. That cat didn’t listen to anyone – it looked like Tobias wasn’t the only one under the toddler’s spell.

“How do you do that, Sammy?” he asked.

She tilted her cherub-like face up at him, brows knitting together. “Do what, Daddy?”

“Get Pietro to listen to you. If I had called him over this early in the morning, he’d hiss at me and go back to sleep.”

“Ooohhh!” Sammy giggled with delight. “That’s easy, Daddy! Magic kisses!”

Tobias lowered his mug – this was a story he had to hear. “Magic... kisses?”

“Yes, I give him magic kisses.”          

He tried not to laugh, but the smile gave him away. “Really? And how do these magic kisses work?”

“Like this!” she declared. With exaggerated flair, she leaned forward and planted a kiss right on Pietro’s head, humming a loud “Muuuah!” just to make sure the spell would ‘hold’.

The cat barely stirred, but Tobias swore he heard him purr. Maybe there was magic in it after all.

“There!” Sammy beamed with pride. “All done. Now, Pietro is sparkly – you see the sparkles, right, Daddy?”

“Oh,” he nodded seriously. “Of course!”

“Those sparkles will make him happy forever, so he always listens to me. No one else can give him magic kisses – not yet. Maybe one day Brooke will, too. But she’s too little. Only big girls can give magic kisses.”

“I see,” Tobias smiled, lowering himself to the rug and wrapping an arm around Samantha, holding his daughter close.

He wondered if that’s what had done it to him, too – the magic kisses. But, in his case, they didn’t belong to Sammy alone. Brooke was still too young to pucker up, but he was no less under her spell. And there was their mother – he changed his life on a dime after one kiss from Casey years before. It's no wonder his daughters also possessed this fairy dust.

Just then, Casey came down the stairs with Brooke in her arms. She settled beside them on the floor. “What’s going on here?”

“Oh, just a little witchcraft,” Tobias smirked.

Casey raised a brow, amused. “Witchcraft?”

“Yes. Sammy’s enchanting Pietro with magic kisses – that’s how she has him completely under her control.”

“Oh, I see,” Casey teased. “And where did she learn how to do that?”

“She didn’t learn it,” Tobias said, grinning as he pulled his wife close and kissed the top of her head. “She inherited it.”

Casey laughed, startling baby Brooke before soothing her again. “So, she inherited these magical kisses from you?”

“From me?” he scoffed. “Oh, no. They definitely come from you. I mean, you’ve had me under your spell since our very first kiss.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Casey protested. “Maybe not our first kiss... I seem to remember it taking a little longer than that.”

“Nope,” he said. “It only looked that way because I had some work to do - I had to change my ways. But there was never any doubt in my mind - the moment you kissed me, I knew I’d be under your spell for life.”

“Daddy!” Sammy piped up, reminding them she was listening. “Is that true? Does Mommy have magic kisses, too?”

“Well, let’s test that idea,” he said, sitting up straighter. “Pietro – come here, boy! Come on – come to Daddy.”

The cat cracked one eye open, glared at him with disdain, and promptly flopped his head back down with a sigh.

Tobias’s eyes flickered to Casey, who understood what needed to be done. “Pietro,” she whispered in a sing-song voice. “Come here, sweet boy! Come on over by Mommy.”

To no one’s surprise, Pietro immediately hopped up, trotted over, and leapt into Casey’s lap - nudging Brooke just enough to make room for himself. Casey laughed, stroking his silky fur.

Tobias glanced at Sammy. “Well, sweetheart, what do you think?”

Sammy’s eyes widened as she took it all in. “So all the girls in our family have magic kisses?”

“Well, everyone except your Grandma Vivian,” Tobias laughed. “The jury’s out on her.”

“Tobias,” Casey scolded, playfully nudging her husband.

Tobias pulled all three of his girls into his arms. “But every single one of you has magic kisses. And that’s why your daddy will be enchanted forever.”

Casey met his gaze with a knowing smile, and with Pietro purring and both girls nestled close, they had no doubt that magic was real and that they were blessed beyond measure to live it every single day.

Third-year student Tobias Carrick was a fixture here, and tonight, he was fully in his element - confidently leaning against the bar, beer in hand, and his blue eyes glistening in the low light as he fixed his signature grin on the brunette he’d been tracking from the moment she walked in.

Ethan sat back and sipped his whiskey as he watched the show unfurl before him. He’d seen Tobias’s routine more times than he could count, but it never failed to amuse him. And for a moment, things unfolded exactly as they always did.

Her name was Brenda – interest apparent in her hazel eyes from the moment she approached. It didn’t take long before she was leaning in closely, coquettish smile firmly in place, giggling with far too much animation at everything he said. Tobias’s magic was working - she was charmed and he loved every second. He knew the scene by heart – banter, laughter, a touch of flattery, then he’d bring in the closer, and they’d be heading back to his place. It always worked, and tonight was no different – until it was.

It was just one joke. A mall one, maybe a little offhand, but it landed wrong. He saw it right away and attempted to recover, but instead of smoothing things over, he only dug himself in deeper. Ethan sat back and chuckled. FINALLY - for once the plot had changed and things were getting interesting.

“Unbelievable,” the beauty snapped. “Could you be more full of yourself?” She shoved past him, heels clicking on the warped floorboards as she stormed toward the exit.

If the incident hurt Tobias’s ego, he sure didn’t show it. He called after her, voice warm. “Come on, Brenda, you know I didn’t mean anything by it. Come back – I’ll make it worth your while.”

She spun on her heel, fire in her eyes, and spat, “Kiss my ass!”

The crowd rippled with laughter. Ethan nearly choked on his drink, grinning as he shook his head. “I always told you this day would come. That ol’ Carrick magic wasn’t going to last forever.”

Tobias turned back, unbothered, though one brow was arched. “You doubt me?” He said, raising his glass in a mock-toast. “Just wait, my friend. She’ll be back. They always come back.”

“You really believe that?” Ethan snickered.

“No,” Tobias said, smirk deepening. “I know that. Set a timer – 10 minutes - you’ll see. She’ll be here.”

Yet, for once, Tobias was wrong – it took fifteen minutes.

The door swung open, ushering in a cool breeze and one beautiful brunette. Her cheeks were still flushed, irritation still in her eyes, but she walked straight back to Tobias.

“Well, look who’s back,” he smiled. “You missed me after all.”

Brenda crossed her arms. “Shut up,” she said, though there was a teasing nature in her voice. “I just figured out a way you could make it up to me.”

“Oh, did you?” Tobias replied, his smile, downright scandalous. “Do tell…”

She leaned down and whispered something in his ear; by the widening smile on his lips, it was clear he approved.

Without a word he drained the last of his beer, slapping a twenty onto the bar. Extending his arm to her, he wore the grin of a man who knew he already won. “Let’s go.” He shot Ethan a look over his shoulder, it wordlessly screamed I told you so.

Ethan sighed, tossing back the rest of his whiskey. “One of these days, Carrick… your luck’s going to run out.”

“Perhaps,” Tobias smirked as the woman curled an arm around his. “But that day is not today.”

To make matters significantly worse, he wasn’t alone. Normally, the rulebook would state that it was better to have your partner nearby when an injury occurred - but the rulebook never met Morgan Gillory – and, right now, Karadec would have given anything to be waiting for help in silence.

Instead, Morgan hovered anxiously at his side. She would have preferred to haul him directly to urgent care - if only the seemingly innocent young woman who’d been the last to see their victim alive hadn’t jumped into their car and sped off, leaving them stranded. Karadec valiantly attempted to stop the perp, which is precisely what led to him being on the floor, wincing, eyes screwed shut as he tried in vain to tune his partner out.

“OK...OK... It’s not terrible,” Morgan stated, her ankles wobbling precariously as she paced the cracked pavement in five-inch snakeskin heels. “Definitely not terrible. This is more like… mild. Minor, even. It’s practically cosmetic. If injuries had Yelp ratings, I’m telling you... this would be a two-star situation. Three max.”

His eyes remained shut as he let out a long, measured sigh, then he shot her a sidelong glare. “Morgan...if it’s really a two-star situation – then, please, just sit down and be quiet. You’re not helping.”

“You’re right,” she said, immediately crouching beside him and pressing a napkin against his wound. “See? Now I’m helping. Pressure on the wound. Straight out of the first aid textbook—except, you know, it’s a napkin, not gauze. And there may be a little soy sauce on it...”

“Soy sauce?” he barked, attempting to yank his arm away, but Morgan held fast.

“Oh, relax, big guy! It’s soy sauce, not anthrax!” She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, how did you end up such a germaphobe? You’re a detective, not a lab tech. It’s not like crime scenes are exactly sterile. Maybe you should’ve been on the cleaning crew, but then again...”

Her words ground to a halt when Karadec hissed through his teeth.

“Oh God! I'm sorry! Too much pressure?” she blurted, easing her hand. “But you’re fine. Totally fine. I mean, you look a little pale, but I think that's just you. Truth is – you need to get out a little more. But you’re not gonna faint, are you? Whatever you do, don’t faint, because I’m bad with fainting. I usually just yell at them to wake up, which is probably not the most effective medical advice, but...”

“Morgan!” His voice came out strong despite the pain, and she was startled silent - his exact intention - too bad it only lasted two seconds.

“What do you want me to do? Because I am trying here. Do you want water?” She rifled through her purse. “Or a snack? I think I have Mentos. Or Altoids, maybe...”

“Morgan,” he repeated, the sound half-laugh, half-plea. “None of that is useful.”

“Useful,” she nodded. “Right! Got it! I need to do something... useful.” Working on pure muscle memory and without pausing to think, she leaned in and pressed a quick kiss on his arm, just above the scrape on his elbow. “There!” She smiled with satisfaction. “A boo-boo kiss. Kissed it all better! A classic remedy.”

Karadec froze - he went absolutely stiff. With his ears red, spine locked against the wall, he felt his breath catch in his chest. His eyes darted left - right - anywhere except at Morgan. For one brief, horrifying moment, he was confident he’d forgotten how to speak - then, he snapped.

“You—what—WHY???!!!! Why would you do that!”

Morgan threw up her hands. “Because you told me to do something useful! And for the record, boo-boo kisses are backed by science. I’ve used them on my kid for years – though the older two have begged me to stop for a while now - but they work! Comfort. Endorphins. They help - look it up.”

Karadec groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “Morgan, I am not your child, and that isn’t helping me! That was... it was completely inappropriate.”

“Oh, listen, buster!” She said, “I was trying to help! It’s not like I...” but the sounds of footsteps echoing down the alley cut her off.

“Oh, thank God!” Karadac sighed with relief as Lieutenant Soto approached, a medic at her side.

"What have we got going on here?" She asked.

"He's hurt," Morgan said, springing back, she gazed at him. "But now, you’re in good hands. I’ll, uh, go make sure no one hot-wires this car. Wouldn’t want that to happen twice in one day!” And before anyone could stop her, she was gone.

Selena crouched as the medic began examining Karadec’s arm. Her eyes flicked from the wound to his face, then down the alley where Morgan had fled. A slow smile tugged at her lips.

“You’re face is red,” she observed.

“I’m injured,” he countered flatly.

“Mm-hm.” Her smirk deepened. “Funny - I’ve seen you with worse, but you never blushed like a teenager.”

Karadec began to sputter. “Why don’t you try having Morgan hovering over you while you're injured, then tell me how you handle it?”

Selena chuckled under her breath. “Thought so. She’s under your skin, Detective.”

Karadec just shook his head. “She’s under everyone’s skin – that’s her speciality – isn’t it?”

“If it is," Selena smirked, "she’s very good at her job.”

The medic finished the bandage with a quick tug, and Karadec flexed his hand to test it before clearing his throat.

“Quick question,” he muttered to the medic. “If someone kisses a boo-boo—that won’t cause gangrene or anything, right?”

The medic froze – and Selena’s eyes went wide.

“Hush,” Karadec snapped before either of them could say more. “Never mind – forget I said anything - I’ll Google it later.”

He pushed himself to his feet and shook his head as he made his way to the car.

The first stop on the crawl was a cozy Irish bar tucked in a quiet little street in Back Bay, the kind of place with Guinness signs in the windows and dark wood that gleamed under dim, barely there lights. Tobias gallantly held the door open for his wife, his face lighting up as his eyes traced her curves, barely hidden under her burgundy boucle dress. That hadn't gone unnoticed.

“What are you doing, Dr. Carrick?” she asked, lashes fluttering with mock innocence.

“I’m checking out the hottest woman in the bar,” he drawled. “Kind of hoping I’ll get lucky and take her home tonight.”  

“Oh, really?” She teased, running her finger over the stubble on his jaw. “I hear she’s a sure thing. Are you sure you don’t want more of a... challenge? The redhead at the jukebox looks promising, too.”

He glanced over his shoulder, giving a solemn nod. “Not bad,” he admitted, then turned back, voice dropping. “But why go for silver when I’ve already got gold?”

He leaned in, their lips a whisper apart, when a swinging door and a blast of cold air pulled their attention.

“Jesus, are you two at it already?” Ethan groaned, shaking snow from his coat and placing it on the back of a stool. "I knew I should’ve stayed home with my Macallan.”

“Here, here!” Jackie chimed in, biting into a Bavarian pretzel. “But on an up note, these two will make me queasy long before the tequila does – so it could save me some money.”

“Really?” Tobias laughed, motioning to the bartender to bring a fresh round.

“Really,” Sienna grinned. “How about a new rule tonight? You two have to keep it PG for once. PG-13 if you absolutely must, but nothing beyond that.”

“Yeah, right!” Bryce chuckled, lifting a fresh pint to his lips. “They wouldn’t make it an hour.”

“What?” Casey frowned. “You really don’t think we can do it?”

“Oh, I know you can’t,” Jackie declared.

Bryce smirked, peeling a twenty from his wallet. “Let’s put our money where our mouths are. After all, we all know where their mouths will be...”

Tobias raised a brow. “You people act like we’re animals! We’re an old married couple now, have a baby at home... we know a thing or two about restraint.”

Aurora, who had been sipping her beer quietly, laughed. “If you knew a thing or two about restraint, you wouldn’t have a baby at home.”

“Hey,” Ethan deadpanned. “Leave my goddaughter out of this – That’s the only thing Carrick’s ever done right.”

Tobias leaned down to whisper something in Casey’s ear, and she flushed pink – a grin stretching on her lips as her handsome husband kissed her temple – not even her lips - but their friends were groaning.

“Pool’s open,” Bryce reminded. “Twenty bucks says they’ll be making baby number two within the hour.”

“Hopefully not in our line of sight,” Jackie groused.

~~~~~

They headed to bar number two, several blocks away. A loud sports bar with dozens of TVs scattered across the walls, one highlighting every local team and beyond. They squeezed into a wooden booth, shouting to hear each other over the noise.

Casey sipped her drink slowly, aware of the eyes on them and the growing pot of cash – she was determined to keep temptation at bay. But Tobias was less restrained. His arm was draped over her, his thumb tracing patterns under the shoulder of her dress. It only took one more whisky, then his grin turned wolfish.

“You promised to behave,” she reminded him, though the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her amusement.

“I have behaved,” he insisted, his gaze dipping to her neckline before flicking up to meet her eyes again. “But it’s hard, baby. So… hard.”

Casey snorted mid-sip, nearly choking on her beer as Jackie smacked the table. “Christ almighty! Do you two even hear yourselves?”

“You brought this on yourselves,” Casey shot back, laughing. “Trying to stop us from being us—it was always going to lead to pent-up depravity.”

“It’s been an hour!” Jackie wailed. “Not even an hour!”

“Exactly,” Tobias agreed, his eyes glazed over, whisky still lingering on his tongue. “And I won’t stand for this cruel and unusual punishment anymore.”

Casey slammed her empty shot glass on the table, wiping her lip with the back of her hand. “Hear, hear!” she cheered, her grin wide, tipsy delight radiating from her as she wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck.

Before anyone could stop them, Tobias pulled her in, their mouths crashing in a kiss that was far too hungry, far too naughty for public consumption. It wasn’t neat - it was searing, lips crashing, teeth grazing, tongues tangled with an urgency that was only fueled by too many drinks and too many moments pretending they could keep their hands off each other. Casey laughed into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound, one hand sliding into her hair, the other braced against the small of her back. They showed no sign of stopping, deepening until it was less of a kiss and more breathless, shamelessly indulgent claim. Mine – all mine.

When they finally broke apart, both breathless and laughing, the table erupted in groans and scattered applause.

“All right! Pay up,” Bryce beamed, extending a hand. Tobias shoved a bill at him without looking.

Casey pulled back, with a mock scowl. “We lost,” she pouted.  

Tobias shrugged, eyes sparkling. “Well worth it,” he grinned, sliding an arm around her waist and bending her back right there in the booth, kissing her again with drunken abandon.

Their friends groaned in unison.

“God help us,” Jackie muttered. “How many more pubs do we have to hit?”

“Three,” Ethan sighed, lifting his glass. “It’s going to be a very long night.”

The peaceful interlude was interrupted when footsteps sounded behind her, but she didn’t need to turn. She knew Eli’s stride as well as she knew her own heartbeat. He had yet to say a word when the bushes rustled below, and he moved protectively in front of her. Zoe rolled her eyes. She could take care of herself , and she’d be sure to remind him of that later, but she had to admit, his presence did calm her in ways she could never fully explain.

They surveyed the area closely, confident their culprit was nabbed when a tiny raccoon scurried away. With the ‘threat’ gone, Eli took a step away, but Zoe had other plans. With a sparkle in her eye and an impish grin on her lips, she clutched Eli’s tattered shirt with her fists and pulled him close.  

“What are you...”

The words had barely escaped him when her lips crashed into his – soft, warm, and possessive – they claimed him in a way only she knew how to do. His hand quickly found her waist. Resistance was futile, and the two of them were absorbed by the tender moment. But it didn’t last long. The sound of crunching leaves startled them, and they reached for their bows with practiced ease. But once again, it was a friendly intruder.

“Well, well, well,” Troy drawled, the cocky tone in his voice leaving no question that it was him.

Zoe laughed without letting Eli go. “Hello, Troy.”

Troy leaned against the railing, the moonlight glistening off his signature grin. He eyed them up and down judgmentally before he continued.

“So, what have I stumbled upon? You two - locking lips under the stars like you’re the stars of some cheesy, post-apocalyptic romance, while I stand here – my lips tragically alone. Deserted. Sad. I’m left to wander this zombie-infested wasteland, unloved and unwanted....”  

Eli rolled his eyes as Zoe giggled, “Troy, please. You  know I can’t resist kissing under the stars... and your lips... well, they just weren’t here when they were needed.”  

“Wait a second,” Eli groaned. “Are you saying I was kissed solely out of... convenience?”

“Of course not, sweetheart,” Zoe started, but Troy cut in, clutching his chest dramatically.

“Eli, don’t you dare complain! I should have expected it - people warned me. In every throuple, one poor soul gets left out in the cold, and, apparently, tonight – that’s me. Poor, pathetic me, standing here while the two people who are supposed to love me....”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Eli grabbed the front of Troy’s jacket and yanked him into a fiery kiss – a kiss filled with such passion that Troy’s toes curled, and with it, a miracle occurred – he rendered Troy Hassan speechless.  

When Eli pulled back, Troy blinked in stunned silence.

“Wow!" Zoe exclaimed. “It looks like I’m not the only one who can’t resist kissing under the stars.”

“No,” Eli muttered, fighting the faintest smirk. “I just wanted to shut him up.”

"Well, you did that!" She grinned. "And you've left Troy speechless - that qualifies as a miracle."

Troy finally came to, still dazed but grinning. “Well, congratulations, Eli. You managed the impossible. But for the record,” he looped an arm around each of them and pulled them close, “the best kisses under the stars are when all three of us are involved.”

Zoe laughed softly, leaning in as all their lips found each others. “I have to admit, you're right on that one, Troy."

“Yeah,” Eli chuckled. “I have to agree as well."

“Wow!” Zoe exclaimed, searching the night sky. “Those must be magical stars! Eli left Troy speechless, and the three of us are in agreement! How often does that happen?"

"Pretty much never," Troy concurred. "But - even though we're in agreement - I think the three of us should kiss again - you know, just to prove the theory, once and for all."

"Of course," Zoe cooed. "We wouldn't want to leave anything that important to chance."

Eli rolled his eyes again - even though he was clearly unbothered. "Oh, fine," he scoffed. "But only for research purposes - and if the two of you tell the others I've gone soft - I'll never kiss either of you again."

"As if you could resist," Zoe said, locking lips with Eli once more.

"She's got you there, Sipes," Troy laughed.

Their lips met again, this time slower, more deliberate, as all three found themselves lost in the warmth between them. The deck creaked beneath their weight, and the forest echoed around them.

She lifted her glass, motioning toward Reggie, who strolled over with his usual swagger.

“Another drink, my friend?” He asked with a sympathetic smile. “I feel like I should ask how you’re getting home before I agree to that.”

Kaycee glanced up from under her bangs with an air of indignation that quickly melted to amusement. “Really, this is Boston. It’s not like I'll be driving home,” she scoffed, shooting a pointed look toward Ethan Ramsey, seated directly across the bar. “Besides,” she shrugged, “we can’t all be pompous assholes who own three luxury cars.”

“Ouch,” a smooth voice shot out beside her - his tone dripping with glee.

“Speaking of pompous assholes,” Kaycee sighed.

Tobias Carrick cleared his throat, ignoring her jab. “Get the lady another drink, Reg,” he winked. “I’ll take responsibility for her safety.”

That got Kaycee’s attention. Her head flung back, and her laughter rang out above the din. “You... responsibility... safety?” she stammered. “Please, Reggie. Tell me you're not falling for that.”

Reggie snorted, already reaching for a fresh glass. “Fall for it? Not a chance. But if Dr. Carrick’s volunteering to be your knight in shining armor, I’m making this one a double. You’ll need it.”

With a fresh drink before her, Kaycee settled in. “So, what are you doing here tonight, Carrick?”

“Same thing as you,” he shrugged. “Killing time. Maybe hoping for some decent conversation.”

That's when Kaycee’s eyes, traitorous as ever, drifted across the bar where Ethan stood with that posture she knew all too well: back straight as could be, composed, as if the chaos in the room had no effect on him.

He was listening politely to a woman Kaycee didn’t recognize - she was beautiful with red lips, long, jet-black hair, and a laugh that seemed too animated, given the company she was keeping. Every few seconds, her hand brushed his arm, and while he seemed to be tolerating it more than enjoying it, Kaycee noted he wasn’t exactly walking away, either.

“Kaycee... Kaycee.” Tobias waved a hand in front of her face, then followed her gaze. Understanding flickering in his eyes. “Christ, K,” he muttered. “ Are you still hung up on him?”

Words were unnecessary as her head snapped toward him, eyes narrowed to tiny slits.

“What?” he leaned in, his tone half-amused, half-exasperated. “You can’t keep sulking around like this - especially over Ramsey. Personally, I think the guy’s lost his damn mind letting you go. But you? You’re too young, too beautiful, and too special to keep wallowing like this. Either make your move or move on.”

“Do you think I like this?” She shot back with a small, brittle laugh. “I’ve tried moving on, believe me.”

“Doesn’t look like it from where I'm standing,” Tobias replied, tipping back his glass but never taking his eyes off her. “You’ve been staring at him like a love-sick puppy all night. That’s not what ‘moved on’ looks like, sweetheart. So I say—make a move.”

“Please,” she bristled. “Leave me with some dignity. Ethan’s made it more than clear – he doesn’t want me.”

“Nah,” Tobias scoffed, draping his arm lazily across the back of her stool, the picture of confidence. “He wants you—he’s just a moron.”

“He does not,” she insisted, brusquely knocking Tobias’s arm back to his side.

“Really?” he leaned closer, voice dropping conspiratorially. “Because he hasn’t managed to keep his eyes off you for the last five minutes.”

“What?” she blinked, heart racing.

“Don’t look now,” he smirked, “but that man’s going to burn a hole right through your skull any second now.”

Kaycee swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “You’re – you’re imagining things.”

“I am not,” he replied, a wicked thought curling into a devious smile. “You want him back? Then play along.”

Before Kaycee could ask what he meant, his hand slid to the back of her neck - steady, warm, unexpectedly gentle - and then his mouth was on hers.

“Mmmh!” she protested, though not as fiercely as either of them would have expected.

The kiss was brazen, bold, nothing like the hesitant but passionate ones she had shared with Ethan so many times before. This was different - Tobias kissed her as though daring her to stop, but she never did. The heat of it left her head spinning, caught between the shock and dangerous thrill of it all.

And then, just as quickly, he pulled away, eyes glistening with mischief. Kaycee’s lips tingled; she could hardly catch her breath. “What... what was that?” She demanded.

Tobias didn’t answer her right away, but his grin sharpened when he found Ethan across the bar - standing stiff as a board, his face flushed, and his jaw locked so tight it was a wonder he didn’t crack a tooth. He made a pitiful attempt at composure, pretending to focus elsewhere before muttering something to the raven-haired woman at his side and slipping away.

A low, satisfied laugh rumbled in Tobias’s chest. He didn’t need years of training to diagnose this scene: Dr. Ramsey was seething, and Tobias was savoring every second.

“That,” Tobias said, downing the rest of his drink in one smooth swallow, “will have Dr. Ramsey pounding on your door before the night’s over.”

He rose from his stool, straightening his jacket with infuriating nonchalance. “And one day - when I’m best man at your wedding?” he added with a wink. “This’ll be my favorite part of the toast. You're welcome.”

With that, Tobias slipped into the crowd, leaving Kaycee breathless in his wake. She reached for her purse, intent on settling her tab and escaping as fast as she could, when her heart lurched.

Because walking toward her – eyes on fire, stride purposeful, and every inch the man she could never quite let go of - was none other than Ethan Ramsey.

And just like that - her night had just begun.

This was the time of year when he most appreciated the hospital's proximity to Boston Common, and if the sun was shining, you could be sure he’d be there; today was no exception. As he took in nature's rebirth all around him, he couldn't help but think of an impending birth much closer to home—and that was all the inspiration he needed.

It took just a quick stop at a Beacon Hill maternity boutique to pick up the floral dress Casey had been eyeing, a call to a photojournalist friend, and, just like that, a springtime maternity shoot had been put in motion.

When the day arrived, you would have thought Tobias had called in a favor with Mother Nature; there couldn't have been nicer weather, a bluer sky, or a more attentive husband.

The photographer was inconspicuous, eager to catch every tender moment. Like when Tobias knelt among the flowers, his hands resting gently on the curve of Casey’s belly, his thumbs gently rubbing the spot he kissed just moments before.

“Did she kick again?” he asked softly, looking up with that look of wonder that never seemed to leave his face, despite already being the father of a toddler and a doctor, to boot.

Casey smiled in return. “They did. I think the baby knows your voice - but we don't know if it's a she, darling."

“She better,” he insisted, pressing another kiss to her belly. “Because she’s going to be hearing a lot of it.”

Casey ran her fingers through his hair, her eyes filled with love. “You’re such a good dad. I'm sure Sammy is going to tell her little sister or brother just how amazing you are."

“Well, it's easy to do with you at my side,” he whispered. "Our little girls are so lucky to have you as their mom."

"We're all lucky to have each other," she said, as he rose to his feet. "I can't wait until this little one is here, so they can feel it, too."

Tobias entered the room, drying his hands on a dish towel. "Are you expecting someone?" he asked.

"Nope," Casey replied, already waddling toward the door with her six-month bump leading the way. "But I swear if it's a salesperson or someone trying to convert me, I'm going to let the hormones take control."

Tobias stifled a laugh as Sammy clung to his leg, then Casey opened the door to reveal a vaguely familiar middle-aged woman. Her greying curls were neatly tucked under a wide-brimmed hat that perfectly matched her jewel-toned paisley dress. When she spoke, it was clear that her energy was just as vibrant as her attire.

"Good Morning," she chirped, waltzing past Casey and into the foyer as if they were lifelong friends.

Bewildered, Casey took a step back. "Good morning. Uhm, can I help you?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact, you can," The woman said, placing a bedazzled magenta folder on a side table with a flourish. "My name is Ursula. I live two townhomes away, and I thought it was about time for us to become better acquainted. We are about to be family, after all.”  

Casey arched a brow. "Uh – I'm sorry – but what?" 

Tobias stepped to Casey's side as Ursula reached into the folder and pulled out a photo with dramatic flair. She handed it to Casey, and Tobias peered over her shoulder to find a peculiar-looking... sonogram?

Tobias looked at Casey anxiously, then tapped the photo in his hand. "What's this about?" he asked, his patience wearing thin.

"That’s Persephone!" Ursula proclaimed with pride. "Well, at least it's her sonogram. And those six adorable blobs are her little babies. She's due in just a matter of weeks now!"

Casey’s brow furrowed as she attempted to make sense of things. “Uh...congratulations?"

"Thank you!" Ursula beamed. "But the congratulations aren't all mine, they're yours, too. After all, we're all about to be grandparents!"

“Grandparents?” she asked, completely befuddled.

“Yes. Grandparents. After all, your Pietro is the father of Persephone’s kitties.”

"Pietro?" Casey blinked. "Our cat, Pietro?"

"Yes! Your handsome little Lothario knocked up my darling Persephone."

Casey turned toward the window ledge, where Pietro lay licking himself with all the nonchalance of a man who definitely wasn't concerned about the specter of impending fatherhood.

"Ma’am,” Casey said politely. “I’m afraid that’s impossible. Pietro is a house cat. He never goes outside – I mean – he doesn’t even like fresh air. There is no way he could have done... this...  to Persephone.”

She waited for Ursula to retort, but the only sound in the room was that of Tobias nervously clearing his throat.

“Tobias?” Casey questioned, eyes narrowing.

“Okay,” he winced. “So, funny story. It’s possible – theoretically - that Pietro may have gotten out of the house one morning recently.”

“What?”

“I found him wandering in the yard before you and Sammy came back from her dance class. I never told you because I didn’t want to stress you out,” he added sheepishly. “That was the morning you had been crying because I picked up strawberry jam instead of raspberry preserves.”

“Well, that makes perfect sense,” Ursual interrupted. “Raspberry preserves are far superior! Persephone and I would never settle for strawberry jam!”  

“Uh, yeah...” Tobias stammered - wondering if he had been transported to the Twilight Zone. “But as I was saying...Pietro made it back home safely. I thought no harm, no foul. I didn’t tell you because it’s my job to keep my pregnant wife happy, and I didn’t want to worry you over nothing.”

Casey rubbed her temples as a headache began to brew.

“He seemed fine afterwards, Case,” Tobias protested.

“Of course,” Ursula injected, unfazed by the domestic tension. “He was fine, he had his fun, but the same couldn’t be said for my beloved Persephone! In any case, obviously, I could never part with any of her precious little angels. So I will be keeping them. I’m sure we can agree on a fair settlement for kitten support. Wet food is preferred—organic, of course. And I only use Pretty Litter. We could work out regular visitation if your schedules allow.” She eyed Sammy, then Casey’s belly. “I mean, you do seem to have your hands full already.”

Tobias and Casey were slack-jawed. Too dumbfounded to address their neighbor’s apparent jab.

“Kitten support?” Casey groaned.

“Visitation?” Tobias added.

“Yes. I created spreadsheets, which you can find in the folder; however, we should consider creating a shared Google calendar instead. I’ve already created a birth plan with Persephone’s veterinarian – and it’s lovely! There will be soothing harp concertos playing during labor, and I think it would be best if Pietro remained at home. I don’t think his presence would bring any comfort to my girl.”

Casey sank onto the decorative bench that lined the wall – the one she had told Sammy was never to be sat on; it was just there to look pretty, but this – this was a special occasion.

As if on cue, the previously unbothered Pietro pounced onto the floor from his throne and walked to the center of the foyer with a detached air of indifference. He circled the spot where the sun beamed in through the decorative window above the door, and then he plopped on the floor with a big yawn.

“All right. Where are the hidden cameras?” Casey asked. “Is this some weird TikTok trend I’m not aware of? Something where we trick very pregnant ladies. Because this can’t be real.”

“Oh, I’m afraid it is, darling,” Ursula grinned. “While I understand having grandchildren the same age as your children might be difficult for you, I think with the right amount of therapy, we’ll all survive – no, flourish!”

“Oh, therapy is definitely needed,” Tobias agreed.

“Very well!” Ursula stated, placing the garish folder in Tobias’s hands. “I’m sure the two of you will need some time to look over the papers and discuss. We can talk again tomorrow. Ta-ta!”

Casey wasn’t wasting any time; she turned to Tobias – glaring. He looked over his shoulder, unable to fathom that look could be for him.

“What?” He said, a little defensive. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Why?” She said, rising to her feet. “Because this is your fault! Your son is apparently just...like..you.”  

“Excuse me?” He squinted. “I don’t think I like what you’re implying.”

They both looked at Sammy, who was blissfully shoving crushed goldfish crackers into Mr. Wiggly’s mouth. Pietro was quick at her feet to lick the mess up. Casey stepped closer to Tobias, her voice low.

“Pietro escapes for twenty minutes – twenty minutes – and he knocks someone up!” Casey pointed to her own belly, and Tobias raised his hands.

“Hey! Our baby was planned,” he said, resting his hand on Casey’s bump. “I mean – at least this one was. And my feral tomcat days are ancient history.”

“Ah!” She said, triumphantly jabbing his chest. “But you admit you were a feral tomcat!”

He opened his mouth, closed it quickly, and smirked. “I think I’m going to plead the fifth.”

“Look,” he said, kissing Casey’s cheek. “You domesticated me, and maybe this is just what Pietro needs. I’ve seen Persephone, she’s a feisty little thing – and quite a beauty – just like you. I think she’ll make an honorable cat out of Pietro.”

“Mmhh,” Casey hummed. “Perhaps, but after this, you and Pietro are both getting fixed. The virility of the men in this family is nothing to be trifled with.”

“We can go to different doctors, though, right?” He asked nervously.

Casey had to laugh at the absurdity of it all. “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “You may want to talk to Ursula. She probably already has it scheduled as part of Persephone’s post-partum plan.”

~~~~~

A month later, the kittens were born - all six of them. And there was no denying they were Pietro’s. They looked just like him, down to the permanently unimpressed expressions fixed on their tiny faces.  

Samantha was obsessed with them. Every morning, she’d pull the photo Tobias had taped to the fridge and point to a different cat, declaring. “I want that one!”

But Ursula held firm. “Samantha. They’re Persephone’s babies. They stay with Persephone.”

When Sammy pouted, Tobias decided to lean fully into the insane drama.

“Well,” he said. “I did have my lawyer, an official kitten support agreement. Pietro has not missed a payment, and if necessary, I’ll pursue legal visitation.”

“Absolutely not,” Casey said, turning around in horror. “We are not hosting six kittens in this house!”

Ursula exhaled a deep sigh. “Fine. Miss Sammy and Pietro can visit the kittens at my place once per week... as long as the visits are supervised.”

Tobias nodded as he sipped his coffee. “Fine. But Persephone is the one who will need supervision. I’ve been watching her – she can’t keep her paws off of Pietro. She finds him irresistible, and we don’t want to end up with more mouths to feed.”

“Tobias!” Casey scolded with a laugh. But he just winked.

“What can I say, dear? Like father, like feline.”