Free The Caveman and the Devil by Chris T. Kat Page B

bottles, he slid over until he sat between my legs. Even when we watched TV in the evenings, he often chose this position. At first it had weirded me out, but he had assured me he liked it this way. I stored it in the “Noah’s-quirks” category. Some of those quirks were easier to like, or at least tolerate, than others.
    We fed the cubs, who sucked greedily and very noisily on the bottles. They emptied the bottles and we massaged their bellies until they fell asleep.
    I nudged Noah lightly with my left foot and murmured, “Let’s put them in the crate.”
    “I just want to hold her a little bit longer.”
    “Noah, we’re both tired and need a shower. Get up and put the cub in the crate.”
    “Spoilsport.”
    “That’s me. Caveman and spoilsport, united in one neat package.”
    Noah laughed but quickly tried his best to smother it when the cub in his arms stirred. Carefully, he bedded the little lion in the crate, staring down at it with an awed expression. Shaking my head, I lowered the cub’s sibling next to it.
    “When will the winners of this name-giving contest be announced? Because it’s odd to always talk about them as ‘it’ or ‘she’.”
    “Next Monday, I believe. I don’t get why they’re making such a fuss about it this time.”
    “Hailey’s trying a new marketing strategy, probably.”
    Hailey Thomas was our marketing director. That woman was a real nuisance, in my humble opinion. “All nonsense if you ask me.”
    Noah bopped my upper arm. “Of course it’s nonsense to you. There’s a lot of things you don’t see the fun in.”
    I scowled at him. No, I most definitely didn’t see the fun in Noah losing all common sense and putting his life on the line. I felt the vein at my right temple throb, almost painfully. The urge to yell at Noah surprised me in its intensity. I turned on my heels and walked back into the kitchen, both empty bottles in my hands.
    I threw the bottles into the sink, where they made a satisfying clattering sound. I hoped the noise wouldn’t wake the cubs, but damn if it hadn’t felt good to throw them. Right until I wondered whether I’d broken them. While I unscrewed the suckers and rinsed them out, I inspected the bottles for any sign of cracks. They withstood my thorough examination, for which I was grateful.
    The kitchen door clicked shut. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Noah leaning against the door with a puzzled expression on his face.
    “Are you okay?”
    Seriously? He had the nerve to ask me if I was okay? I gulped in a deep breath, but the sudden tightness around my chest didn’t lessen. Instead, my vision faded from bright and clear to dull and dark. For a moment I couldn’t see at all, as if a veil had been cast over my eyes. It made cleaning the bottles and the suckers all the more challenging.
    Noah remained silent while I cleaned. When I was done, I dried my hands and walked toward the door. Noah swallowed hard as I approached him. Still, he didn’t move. He was the only guy I had ever met who didn’t back down when he was confronted by me, especially by a mad me.
    I couldn’t deal with him, not without losing my composure. Even though I was seriously pissed, I didn’t want to say or do something I’d regret later. After all—I loved Noah.
    Grabbing his shoulders, I pushed him away from the door so I could pass, which earned me a muttered complaint.
    “I’m going to take a shower,” I rumbled as I opened the door.
    On my way to the bathroom, I peeked in on the cubs. Both slept soundly and peacefully. Good for them. I doubted the same fate would be granted to me.

Chapter Three
     
    O NCE inside the bathroom, I inspected my reflection in the mirror. I looked exhausted but also ready to pop a vessel. Since the sight wasn’t all that inviting, I turned away. I hadn’t even opened the first button of my shirt when the bathroom door opened. It was all I could do not to snap at Noah. Was it too much to ask to have some alone time so I