Cuddly Behavior: Bad Behavior, #6

By Cari Z and L. A. Witt

Detective Andreas Ruffner is less than thrilled when his husband and partner, Detective Darren Corliss, announces they'll be cat-sitting for a couple of weeks.

He's even less pleased when he realizes the cat in question is a large grumpy thing with razor-sharp claws and no regard for personal space. When Darren deploys the puppy dog eyes, though, Andreas is powerless to say no, so they're on kitty detail… and despite his best efforts, Andreas is a sucker for the critter shedding all over his apartment and stealing his husband's affection.

It's only for two weeks. Plenty of time for the cat to get on his nerves, but not nearly enough for her to trick him into falling in love with her.

Right?
 

Cuddly Behavior is a light and fluffy short story in the Bad Behavior series, and is best read after Protective Behavior. Because even the grumpiest of grumpy characters can't help but turn to sunshine around cute and demanding fluff.

• Language: English
• Publisher: GallagherWitt
• Release date: May 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9781642300864

Book preview

Chapter 1

Andreas

C ome on. It’s only for a few days. Darren was shamelessly deploying his puppy dog eyes, which was ironic, given that he was trying to persuade me to let a cat stay in our apartment. She has nowhere else to go!

I gave my husband my most exasperated glare, but if there was one thing I’d learned since we’d been together, it was that the puppy dog eyes always won. It was like a bullshit version of rock-paper-scissors, except I hadn’t figured out what beat puppy dog eyes yet.

With a sigh, I shifted my glare to the creature in question, which had—in the ten minutes since Darren had opened the cage—made itself at home on the couch. In my spot.

And I’ll be damned if the cat didn’t look right back at me with a glare of its own. As much as I really, really didn’t want a cat even on a short term basis, I had to admit I was impressed by how much contempt radiated from such a small package. Well, small compared to a person, maybe. I knew nothing about cat breeds, so God knew what this thing was. Whatever breed could be described as enormous pile of gray fluff with a pair of disdainful yellow eyes. I didn’t think cats wagged their tails when they were happy, so the sharp swishing next to its huge body probably didn’t translate to any particular giddiness about being here.

Is it even friendly?

Uh, I think so? Darren watched it too. I mean, she was kind of friendly whenever I went by to fed her while Mark was in the hospital. And the whole reason she needs a place to go is because she jumped on him after he got home and messed up his stitches.

So does that mean it’s friendly? I shifted the glare back to him. Or that it was trying to murder him?

The faintest smirk played at his lips. Which version will make you say yes to keeping her?

I exhaled hard. I wasn’t winning this. I’d known that the moment Darren had told me there was a cat in our living room and a litter box—a fucking litter box!—in the laundry room. Okay. Fine. But only until Mark is healed enough that it won’t try to murder him.

Awesome! Darren’s face lit up, and it wasn’t just glee because he’d won. He seemed genuinely excited about this fluffy interloper’s presence. Mark sent over some food and treats for her, so I’ll—

Please tell me it doesn’t eat canned food.

His excitement faltered, and he shot me his please don’t fuck with me look. Would you stop calling her ‘it.’

What am I supposed to call… uh… I glanced at the cat, and I swear to God it—she—lifted her chin like she was daring me to call her the wrong thing.

Her name is Harley. Darren leaned over the back of the couch to scratch behind her ear, which earned him a swat by a giant paw and a look that screamed contempt. He jerked his hand back. Okay, okay. Jesus.

So, friendly, eh?

Darren rolled his eyes. I’m going to go get the rest of her things out of the car.

The rest of—how much stuff does she have?

He met my gaze, his expression one of pure innocence. What? You don’t want the six-foot cat tree in here?

Darren…

He snorted, gave my arm a squeeze, and continued toward the door. I’ll be right back.

The door shut behind him, and it was just me and Harley in the apartment. We stared at each other.

Then she sat back, jutted one of her back legs into the air, and started licking her asshole.

Seriously? I grumbled.

She looked up at me, tongue still sticking out.

Rolling my eyes, I left her to it and went into the kitchen. So we were cat caretakers for the next, what, week? Two weeks? How long did Mark need to recover before his cat wouldn’t fuck him up?

I’d have bet money he was loving this, too. As much as we’d settled the shit between us, there was probably some part of him that still wished he’d been right when he’d tried to burn me. No Internal Affairs detective liked getting bested by the cop he was trying to investigate. We had a truce now, but yeah, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was laughing over the idea that his cat would be shitting in my house for a while. Well, laughing as much as a man could while he was recovering from bullet wounds. Especially after