Page 93 of Buttons

This strategic mention of kittens, which is Meredith’s current obsession, works exactly as intended. My daughter’s eyes widen to comic proportions.

“Babies?!” she shrieks, already racing toward the door. “Real live baby kitties? Leo, comeon!”

As Leo turns to follow his sister, Connor and Beatrix say their goodbyes and head out. It’s then that Julian steps forward, his hand coming to rest lightly on my lower back.

“Alone at last,” he says.

“Not quite,” I point out, though I’m smiling. “Sarah could return any minute with two overexcited children and kittens.”

“Then we’d better make the most of our window,” he replies, leading me toward the table with its waiting wine and dinner.

I follow, suddenly aware of how my heart races at his touch, how the space between us feels both familiar and new.

“Your chair,” he says with a small flourish, pulling out my chair with exaggerated gallantry.

I laugh. “Very fancy for a reading corner in a cat shelter.”

“We aim to exceed expectations,” Julian replies, waiting until I’m seated before taking his own seat across from me. The table is small enough that our knees nearly touch beneath it, creating intimacy.

He reaches for the wine bottle. It’s then that I truly comprehend what type it is. Cabernet, my favorite.

I’ve said it a million times tonight, but no other words are enough. “Thank you.”

“I would have asked what you wanted, but since it was a surprise, I went with what I know you’ll like.”

“It’s wonderful.”

Julian pours, not spilling a drop despite the emotion I can see vibrating through him.

“They all wanted to help,” he says, setting down the bottle. “When I mentioned doing something special for you tonight, everyone had ideas. They care about you, and I’m incredibly grateful that you had this community while I was being an asshole idiot.”

“Me, too. Stumbling into SKCAS was the best thing that ever happened to me.” Food smelling absolutely delicious, I spool some noodles onto my fork and take a bite. I can’t help the groan that comes out of me. “Did you cook this?” I ask, remembering that he said he had been cooking.

“Yes.”

“I’m impressed.”

Julian’s smile turns relieved. “I burned three batches before getting it right.” He gestures to the serving dish between us, where meatballs nestle in a rich red sauce, steam still rising.

I lean forward, inhaling deeply. Garlic, basil, onion, oregano mingle with the richer notes of slowly simmered tomatoes and the subtle hint of red wine. My stomach growls in appreciation, reminding me that the protein bar I grabbed at seven a.m. is a distant memory.

We serve ourselves. Julian holds the dish steady while I ladle sauce over my pasta, my hand brushing his as I pass the bread basket. Each point of contact sends small electric currents along my skin. The food and drink are delicious, the company even more so.

When we’re both done eating, I take the lead. After standing, I cross to Julian’s side of the table and sit in his lap, facing him. As gently as can be, I kiss him. My hand rises to his chest of its own accord, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart.

We break apart slowly, neither of us quite ready to relinquish the connection. Julian’s forehead rests against mine, his breath warm on my face. “If the kids weren’t in the next room,” he murmurs, “I’d show you exactly how much I love you, until neither of us could remember why we ever stopped.”

The image his words conjure, of Julian and me rediscovering each other without constraints or caution, sends heat spiraling through my body. I laugh, partly from delight, partly to release the sudden tension vibrating between us. My hand pushes against his chest playfully.

“Behave,” I tell him, not meaning it for a second. “We’re in a children’s reading corner.”

“Surrounded by books about cats,” Julian agrees, his smile turning wicked. “Very educational environment. There are lots of natural behaviors to observe.”

This draws another laugh from me, the sound bright in the quiet room. “You’re terrible.”

“Only for you,” he promises. “And only when you want me to be.”

We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, his thumb tracing small circles at the nape of my neck, my hand still resting on his chest where I can feel each steady beat of his heart.