Slowly, I trail my fingers over her hair, gently working the knots out until I can easily run my digits through the section. Then I settle for stroking her, watching the morning light highlight all the different shades of brown in her full head of hair. Eventually, her lips curve into a soft smile, but she doesn’t open her eyes. She snuggles closer and hums contentedly. “Are you petting me, Dupris?” There’s humor in her voice, and my lips quirk up at the tone. “Are you purring, Tabitha?” She laughs, and I can feel her wide smile against my side. “Maybe. It feels nice. No wonder Cleo loves you
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