Page 98 of Dice & Dekes

I open one eye. “Oh, hell, no. I’m not ready to turn the wife experience into the Mom experience. Can we be a couple for a little bit first? I don’t even want to talk about it yet.”

He chuckles at some joke I’m not privy to. “Well, this is awkward. I thought you’d make the perfect… pawrent.”

“I will. Eventually.”

“Isn’t there anything that might make life feel more… complete?”

I nudge his hand away and sit up. “Okay, I see that you’re not letting this go. What have you done?”

“Me?” Viktor flutters his eyelashes. “What makes you think I’ve done something?”

“When have you not?”

He busts out a laugh that fills the car. “Guilty as charged. I’ll show you when we get home.”

“Does this have anything to do with why Knight was missing for half the event?”

“I guess you’ll have to see,” Viktor says. He’s so infuriatingly smug that I don’t know if I want to smack him or kiss him. Then again, given our general proclivities, why pick one?

Horny thoughts aside, I’m wary as I follow Viktor into our house. I don’t know what I’m expecting, but Viktor never does anything by halves. I wouldn’t put it past him to have arranged for something unforgettably weird. A life-sized voodoo doll onesie so that he can embody my portrait of him? A live band set up in our living room, ready to break into a Nona Gaye song in homage to the girl I thought he cheated on me with? Anything’s possible, really.

But there’s no onesie, and no band. And instead of leading me to the bedroom for some hot sex, which would at least align with the clues he’s given me, he takes me to the downstairs bathroom.

“Ready?” he asks.

I frown at the door. I’m not sure how I feel about bathroom surprises. “Probably not, but there’s only one way to find out.”

Viktor opens the door with a flourish to reveal…

A litter box and a grumpy plush fish.

I stare at the unused litter pan for a long moment. It takes me a moment to parse that the thing shaped like an anglerfish with an open mouth is a pet bed. I’m about to ask if Viktor is suggesting that we should get a cat when I hear the low rumble that would, in a horror film, presage a demonic possession.

I was wrong. He already got the cat.

“Um.” Viktor peers over my shoulder. “Sorry, this is anticlimactic. Are you in there, little guy?”

I step inside the bathroom and squat down in front of the pet bed. “Come on out,” I coo.

A pair of bright eyes flash from the fish’s mouth. They’re smaller than I expected. The sounds coming from that open maw made me think I was dealing with a ten-pound bruiser, but the scale of those eyes suggests a kitten.

I clap my hands to my cheeks. “Viktor. You got me a hater!”

And somehow, it’s perfect. The little chaos goblin with a purr like a jet engine. I think Mick would’ve approved. Hell, I think he’d have laughed his ass off.

“Hold on, the rescue lady told me how to handle this. He’s a sucker for Churu.”

I glance over my shoulder. “What in the fresh hell is Churu?”

Viktor reaches for a plastic tub that’s been left on the bathroom counter and extracts a small rectangular pouch. He hands it to me. The label says,Chicken.

“Ew.” I open the tube and sniff the contents. “It’s like the worst possible version of GoGurt.”

“Says you.” Viktor tips his chin to the cat bed. “Look.”

A tiny pink nose has emerged from the anglerfish’s mouth, sniffing furiously. An orange face follows. The kitten stares at me, caught between his hatred of the world and his desire for the chicken slurry I’m holding.

“Come here,” I coax. “I’m gonna love you so hard, you’re not gonna be able to resist me.”

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