“This is Coolie, and that’s Gus.” I stepped forward to pet Coolie’s head, murmuring to him before looking up at his handsome owner. “If by any chance you named your cats after C.M. Coolidge and Gustav Klimt, I will drop to my knees right this minute and blow you where you stand.” Falcon plunked the cat onto the floor and reached for his zipper, a wide grin appearing on his face. “Open up, buttercup.”
