Free Family Affair by Debbie Macomber Page B

pleadingly.
    “She seems to want you,” Lacey murmured, unable to disguise her amazement. It didn’t make sense that Cleo would be more comfortable with Jack. After all, Lacey was the one who fed and nurtured her.
    “She wants me ?”
    “It wasn’t me she was crying for just now.” Didn’t anyone understand the meaning of commitment anymore? Lacey wondered. Even her cat turned to someone else in her moment of need.
    Cleo was up again, seeking Jack’s attention. He squatted down in front of the open closet door and patted her gently while whispering reassurances.
    “Should I boil water or something?” Lacey asked anxiously. The moment had finally arrived, but she hadn’t a clue as to what her role should be. She’d assumed Cleo would calmly give birth to her kittens one day while Lacey was at work.
    “Boil water?” Jack asked. “Whatever for?”
    “I . . . don’t know. Coffee, I guess.” She paced the carpet behind Jack in short, quick steps. Seconds earlier they’d been wrapped in an impassioned embrace, and now lovemaking was the furthest thing from either of their minds.
    “How’s she doing?” Lacey asked, peeking over his shoulder.
    “Great, so far. It looks as if the first kitten is about to be born.”
    “How’s Cleo?” Lacey asked again, her fingertips pressed against her lips. “Is she afraid? I don’t think I can bear to see her in pain.”
    Jack looked up at Lacey, reached for her hand, and kissed her knuckles. “She’s fine. Stop worrying or you’ll make yourself ill.”
    No sooner had he said the words than Lacey’s stomach cramped. She wrapped her hands around her waist, sank onto the end of the mattress, and leaned forward. “Jack, I don’t feel so good.”
    “Go make that coffee you were talking about earlier,” he suggested. “At this point Cleo’s doing better than you are.”
    Cleo cried out and Jack turned his attention back to the closet.
    “She just delivered the first kitten,” he announced, his pleasure keen. “Good girl, Cleo,” he said excitedly. “My goodness, will you look at that! Cleo’s kitten is the spitting image of Dog.”
    Lacey hurried off the bed to look. Her stomach didn’t feel much better, but she understood the source of her discomfort. She was experiencing sympathetic labor pains. “He does look like Dog.” She squatted down next to Jack and studied the ugly little creature. “I don’t mind telling you, Jack, this unnerves me.”
    “I could go for a cup of coffee,” he said. “Cleo and I are doing fine.”
    Lacey hurried into the kitchen. Once she was there, she decided there was no need to rush. As Jack had so eloquently told her, he had everything under control.
    “How’s it going?” she asked when she returned with their coffee.
    “Great. I think Cleo’s just about ready to deliver a second kitten.”
    Lacey wasn’t interested in viewing the birthing process, so she sat on the bed and let Jack play midwife.
    “Here it comes,” he said after a few minutes, his voice elevated with excitement. “This one’s just like Dog too.” He turned with a proud smile as if he’d given birth himself.
    Grumbling, Lacey sank onto the carpet next to Jack. Cleo was busy licking off her tiny offspring. As far as Lacey could tell the kittens were no bigger than fur balls and ugly as sin, but that didn’t keep her heart from swelling with a flood of emotions.
    “Do you think she’s finished?”
    “I don’t know,” Jack returned. “How long do these things usually take?”
    Lacey laughed. “How would I know?”
    “You intended to breed her, didn’t you?”
    “Yes, before Dog so rudely interrupted my plans.”
    Jack wiggled his eyebrows. “You’re pleased he did, aren’t you?”
    Lacey wasn’t willing to admit anything of the sort. “You’ll note that once Dog had his fun with Cleo, he was on his merry way.”
    “Perhaps, but with Cleo having Dog’s family—well, it sort of cemented our relationship, don’t you