"You're blushing. You are genuinely blushing right now. Just thinking of him has morphed you into a tomato." I can't keep the glee out of my voice as I watch Penelope's face continue to redden. "Marcus Ashby has you flustered. This is historic. I need to document this moment for posterity."
"Do not," she warns, pointing her finger at me with all the menace of an angry kitten. "I will end you."
The front door clicks open before I can respond, and Logan walks in with a paper bag of Chinese takeout in one hand and Princess Paws in the other. Well, technically, it's her travel kennel.
The first thing he does? He unzips the cage of doom, allowing our little white kitten to dash out with a wild, unhinged yowl, zooming straight up to the top of her cat tree and giving us all a view of her back.
She's angry. Oh, man.
Tonight's going to be fun.
Princess Paws likes to ambush toes when she's feeling spicy.
