Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 55769 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55769 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
He knew what that meant. She didn’t need to say it.
He knew it. He felt it in his gut, his bones, his heart.
That was who he was. It was what he was always meant to be.
What he didn’t know, until he laid eyes on Roxanne at Fortnum’s the first time she walked in, was that all of it was in preparation, waiting for her.
To be her shoulder.
Her rock.
Her sounding board.
Her protector.
Her man.
It was just good to know she knew it too.
“Go to sleep, Sunshine,” he urged.
“Okay, Whisky,” she whispered but didn’t let go of his hand.
She held it there, all night.
And their first Christmas a memory neither of them would forget, Hank woke up with her hand right there, curled around his, the next morning.
Track 4
Rock Chick Renegade
His
* * *
Boo
* * *
This was unacceptable.
Since the New Human showed (who Boo liked, he smelled good and Boo liked the way he looked at Boo’s Primary Human), Boo’s schedule had been disrupted.
Boo wasn’t thrilled about this, and as was his duty, he let them know at his every convenience.
But no one, not even the human next door (who he considered his Secondary Human), had come to feed him his breakfast. (He was thinking with the way his Primary looked at the New Human, that human was going to be the new Secondary Human, and the next-door human was going to be, well…the Next-Door Human, known to other humans as “Nick”).
Next-Door Human did not excel at the simple feat of breakfast. He didn’t break up Boo’s food like Primary did. She knew exactly how he liked his breakfast, though, her portions were puny, and he wasn’t fond of the fact she didn’t make up for them with his required amount of treats. She was also a good cuddler, she liked to talk to him as much as he liked to talk to her, and she kept his litter box clean. Therefore, he didn’t complain…too much.
But still, unbroken-up-correctly food was better than no food at all.
The light outside had gone up and down, and still, no breakfast.
He didn’t count his kibble, of which there was plenty. Everyone knew kibble didn’t count.
So.
Entirely…
Unacceptable.
So unacceptable, obviously, when he heard the key in the door in the back, he jumped off his throne at the front by the window (he had many thrones, indeed, every surface in the house was his throne) and pranced toward the kitchen to let them know precisely how he felt about this delay.
He saw the light switch on before he got there.
He entered the room, noted it was New Secondary, not Primary (which wasn’t entirely unusual, but he still found it concerning).
And then he got a good look at New Secondary’s face: the human Primary called “Vance.”
Boo decided to delay his litany of complaints because something really was not right.
New Secondary (that was Vance) took two steps in, his eyes never leaving Boo.
Boo didn’t take his eyes off Vance either.
Then the human did something funny.
And Boo knew.
He knew.
So when Vance folded down, right on the kitchen tile, sitting cross legged, still staring at Boo, Boo knew right what to do.
He jogged to Vance, stepped right in, circled in on himself in Vance’s lap, and he got to work purring.
Vance’s strong fingers sifted through Boo’s fur.
“She’s gonna be okay,” Vance whispered.
Boo had no idea what that meant, but he wasn’t all fired up about the tone, so he concentrated harder on purring.
Vance kept stroking him. “She’s gonna be all right.”
It’d take a lot of work purring to get Vance sorted out to finally get up and get Boo some food.
He broke it up just like Primary did (known amongst the humans as “Jules”).
So when Vance put it down, it was perfect.
But Boo didn’t eat it.
He sat on the toilet while Vance took a shower.
He sat in the hall and watched Vance put on clothes.
And he sat in the kitchen and watched Vance leave out the back door.
He still didn’t go eat.
No.
He didn’t.
It would come to be his and Vance’s secret. He’d have some kibble so he could keep his strength up (purring took a lot out of you, and so, he would find, did waiting).
But until she came home, he wasn’t hungry.
He was in the kitty carrier in the back seat.
So, okay, they set him up in the middle so he could see a little of them and a lot of the front of the moving machine, and that was better than being in the seat and having nothing to look at but the back of another seat.
And she was with them.
Finally.
It had been forever.
But this was intolerable.
“Meow!” he shared his thoughts.
She turned and looked around the seat at him.
“It’s okay, Boo.”
He had no clue what she was saying (other than knowing his name was Boo), but considering she didn’t end it by reaching out and releasing him from this prison, he shouted, “Meeeeeeeoooow!”