I throw my head back, letting out a deep belly laugh. “Whitney and Houston, huh? Pretty clever of you, Stone.”

“I mean… you said it, not me. But I would have to agree with you.” Whitney curls up on his chest, falling asleep easily, as if she can’t be bothered.

“You bought a kitten?” My voice comes out small.

“I bought us a kitten,” he replies.

There’s so much love that pours out of him. It makes me weak. Jesus. He bought us a fucking kitten. And not just any kitten—a fucking Whitney to my Houston. I try to play it off like my heart isn’t pounding in my chest, but I doubt it’s believable.

“Houston likes her?” I ask.

He reaches to his right, bringing Houston into view. He miraculously lays down right next to the kitten on Stone’s chest. “He’s curious, but he’s been good with her. Gentle. Only bopped her on the head once or twice.”

“When did you get her?” I’m going over timelines in my head, because these cats are not easy to get on the fly.

“Three days ago,” he replies, looking sheepish yet again.

“The breeders in the area have waitlists, Stone. I’ve checked. How the hell did you get her so fast?” I raise an eyebrow, pinning him with a look, and dying to hear what he has to say because I have a feeling I know, and it makes my heart swell.

“Okay, alright. You fucking caught me, Detective Danny. I may have been looking into getting her as a surprise for a while now. The timing just worked out well.”

My insides flutter as I take it all in. To the outside, it’s such a small thing… getting another cat. But to me, it’s so much more. She’s our cat. Time and time again, Stone has shown me his love for me.

He is absolutely everything I didn’t know I wanted… didn’t know I could want. He is everything. An overwhelming wave of emotion washes over me, and I don’t know how to handle it. I know he loves me… he’s told me as much, but seeing his love is a whole different thing. Every time he proves his love with his actions, I feel like I can’t breathe. My heart pounds and my knees feel weak. A telling lump forms in my throat, making it hard to swallow.

The suffocating need to tell him how fucking crazy I am about him, how stupidly in love I am with him, hits me hard, but I can’t tell him when I’m halfway across the world. I cannot tell him I love him for the first time ever while I’m here. Suddenly five weeks feels like a century. Too fucking long.