Eat Crow (Cheap Thrills Series Book 6) Mary Moore (read out loud books .txt) 📖

boil water or even add water, just put the milk and butter in the pan.”

Grimacing, he mumbled, “Don’t let her meet Tony, man. It’s not safe.”

Rubbing my face with my hands, I groaned into them. “They’ve already met and become friends.”

After a moment’s silence, during which I kept my face in my hands, he said what I’m sure everyone would think when they heard about her kitchen and culinary issues. “You’re screwed.”

I had good health insurance. That might be what ended up saving me one day.

Chapter Sixteen

Bexley

I’d cooked dinner.

Those words might not mean much to most people who could actually cook, but for me, they were huge.

Tony had spent all afternoon teaching me how to make meatloaf. It’d only taken three trips to the store and two failed attempts, and now I was staring at something that looked good—made by my own hands. Tomorrow he was teaching me how to make something else, seeing as how the school was closed for one more day, and I was excited about it.

I couldn’t go all out with candles and a beautiful table, but I’d managed to make a makeshift platform out of some of the old wooden panels from the walls that still needed to be taken away, and it looked cute.

All it needed now was Logan.

“Sorry, buds,” I told Doyle and Prince as they stared at me. “I need him to see the whole thing, so you can’t have any. If he sees pieces missing, it’ll ruin the visual effect of my culinary masterpiece.”

The vet had warned us that Prince might react to Doyle being near the kittens, but he seemed warier of them than she was of him. Every time he heard them crying out, he’d start whining and hide behind me. The big scary dog had met his match.

Prince had adapted to having a vagina and babies like nothing had changed, and for her, I guess, nothing had. Unlike me, she’d known what bits she had and the fact she was baking her little minions inside of her.

The kittens were tiny, and I’d made the mistake of reading up about cats abandoning their babies if they smelled like humans, so I was scared to touch them. I’d even bought gloves at the store today—a dozen pairs, to be precise—so that when I cleaned them out, I didn’t accidentally leave my scent in a place that could trigger rejection in Prince.

Basically, I was out of my comfort zone. Inheriting Doyle from Pops had been a life lesson in itself, but kittens? I had no freaking clue!

Almost like they knew I was thinking about them, the mewling started up again, accompanied by Doyle’s whining. Prince had only been away from them for about two minutes, but she quickly waddled back to them and lay down.

“Maybe they were cold?” I asked my dog, who had his face in the corner of the room we were in, with his ass pointing at the rest of it. Hearing my voice, he turned his head toward me. “You know, you don’t have to hide from them. They won’t be able to terrorize you for a while.”

With a dirty look over his shoulder, he turned back to the corner, leaving me talking to his ass.

“Hey, I don’t know what you’re so scared about. It’s not like your parents saw your tit drawings on the walls. Speaking of that, do you know why you have nipples?”

Sue me, I was bored.

Just then, the front door opened, and Doyle’s stance changed from nose in the corner to a canine sneer as he waited for Logan to come into the room.

“I don’t know why you don’t like him, dude,” I sighed, getting up from where I was lying on a comforter on the floor. “You’re going to have to get over that shit at some point.”

“Because your Pops told him what happened when we were younger,” Logan replied as he came in, bending down to kiss me almost immediately. “I’m sure he probably waved one of my t-shirts under his nose and repeated the word kill.”

I laughed on the outside, but on the inside, I had to admit that’s probably what’d happened. The low growl that came from Doyle made me frown, though.

“Is there some sort of doggy therapy camp he can go to?”

“Not a clue,” he replied as he waved at Doyle regardless and then moved over to where Prince was sitting, waiting for his attention, her babies squealing at the loss of her boobies.

The night she had them had reset their relationship, and now she went to him instead of me most of the time.

Squatting down in front of her, he gave her some chin scratches. “How are you doing, pretty momma? How are our babies?”

“Judging by the crying because she sat up to see you and took away their food, I’m thinking hangry.”

Huffing out a laugh, he picked up the mini version of her mama, gray all over with a white chest and white paws. “Hey, Miracle. Are you being good? They’re not stealing all your food, are they?”

Our trip to the vet had revealed that all four kittens were girls, so now in the house, we were four females ahead of the two males in it. Not that Logan or Doyle cared at all, far from it.

And just in case it needed to be pointed out—Logan didn’t have the same concerns over Prince rejecting her babies if they smelled like us. He said she was too smart for that, which was just as well, seeing how he carried Miracle around with him as much as possible.

He was also the one who picked them all up and carried them upstairs to sleep in our room in case Prince or the babies needed anything last night. Doyle wasn’t left out either because his bed had been brought up and put in the corner, too.

“I’m thinking she’s holding her own on the titties. She got knocked onto her back today during the feeding frenzy—”

“What the hell?” he