Page 38 of Keystrokes and Kittens

Sam grinned. “I’ll hold your hand.”

“Promise?” I worried he might cry as well, but he had a serene smile on his face. I loved the movieandPeter Erickson had won an Academy Award for it. “I like that idea. I haven’t watched itin forever either. Let’s finish lunch and start the movie. We can take a break and feed the kittens.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

So that was what we did. Only Sam swapped places with the crate so he sat next to me on the couch. And then, at the sad spot, he held my hand.

I didn’t cry.

A near thing.

But I held it together.

And so did Sam.

He sighed as the credits ran. “Peter totally deserved that Academy Award.”

“Yeah.” I switched off the television.

“I think Cole should have won, like, best supporting or something.”

“Yeah.” I eyed Tibby who had risen at one point to go have a drink, but who was now curled on her bed and snoring lightly. She did the cutest little snuffle thing in her sleep.

Sam smiled. “She’s adorable.”

“She is. She’s sort of saved my sanity over the past year. I had something other than work to focus on. She was a hellacious puppy, though. Noah’s the best trainer, and things got better when I started doing the serious training. I know she’s young for a therapy dog, but her nature makes her perfect for it. She passed every single test he put her through with flying colors. He said she’s one of the youngest therapy dogs he’s trained.”

“She’s special, Soren. No question about that.” He turned to face me. “So are you.”

I blinked.

He reached out to take my hand. “You barely knew me, and a week ago you basically invited me to move in. I mean, who does that? And then you’ve taken such good care of me. Andthe kittens. Even—” He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they were a little watery.

I squeezed his hand. “We’re doing okay. Peaches and Jack will be fine.”

Slowly, he raised his other hand. With a gentleness that broke my heart, he caressed my cheek.

A chuckle escaped. “I need a shave.”

“I think it’s kind of sexy.” He held my gaze. “I’m so confused.”

“About what?” My heart ached at his expression.

He swallowed. “I think you’re sexy. I mean, like, almost as sexy as Cole Hamilton.”

I barked a laugh. “I amnotas sexy as Cole. Hell, I don’t even look like him.”

Sam smiled. “Yeah, he’s all brooding and dark. Well, his character. In real life he looks like he’s just fun.”

“Right. So why are you comparing me to him?”

“Because you’re light too.” He fingered my hair. “I love this.”

“Yeah. Going white in my early twenties was…it sucked.”

“Did you ever consider dyeing your hair?”

“Nope. I told my wife she was getting this color. No way was I going down that road. And I don’t have any regrets. I own this look. I’ve made it my own. Did I wish I didn’t have hair that makes me look eighty? Sure.”