Page 46 of Purrfectly Outfoxed
“And I want...” She hesitates, biting her lip.
“What?”
“Kids. Eventually. I know we don’t know if it’s even possible with cross-species mating, but?—”
“I want that too.” The certainty in my voice surprises even me. “I never thought I’d want cubs. Never thought I’d be in one place long enough. But with you? Yeah. I want that. A whole litter of little fox-cats running around causing chaos.”
“A litter?” She swats my chest. “I’m not having a litter, Jasper.”
“Two then. Maybe three.”
“We’ll start with one and see how it goes.”
“I don’t think biology cares about how many you want at one time, but OK. Let’s just try for one.” I pull her in for another kiss,this one deeper, hungrier. She responds immediately, her body melting into mine as I roll her beneath me.
For years, all I did was exist. I was drifting from town to town, never staying, never belonging. Sure, I had homes here and there. But there were a lot of nights spent sleeping in barns and abandoned buildings, stealing food when I had to, always alone. Always moving.
Back then, there was an emptiness. A bone-deep loneliness that I pretended didn’t exist. The nights I’d shift into my fox form just so I wouldn’t have to be human—wouldn’t have to face what I was to this world.
A ghost. A shadow. A loser. Nothing.
And then I saw that article about foxes becoming pets. And that led me to making the crazy decision that led me to this house. Led me into her life. And everything changed for the better.
I didn’t just find her. I found a reason to stop running. A reason to believe I could be more than the sum of my survival instincts.
She saw me, hated me a little bit, but then she saw how hot I am and couldn’t resist my charm. She chose me. And I chose her. And together, we found our home with Bea—the best crazy decision any of us has made.
Beneath me, Tabitha cries out softly, her body trembling as she comes apart in my arms. I follow her over the edge, burying my face in her neck, holding her like she’s the only solid thing in the universe.
Because she is.
She’s my anchor. My home. My everything.
As we lie tangled together in the aftermath, her heartbeat slowing against my chest, I realize that for the first time in my existence, I’m genuinely happy. And that’s because I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Home.
EPILOGUE - Tabitha
One year later…
“Hold still, you little menace,” I mutter, trying to wrangle a tiny orange onesie onto our daughter while she squirms and gurgles at me like this is the best game ever invented.
Amber—named for her golden eyes and the way her hair glows when the sunlight hits her just right—kicks her little legs and nearly takes me out with a surprisingly strong baby foot to the jaw.
“Jasper!” I call out. “A little help here?”
“Busy!” he yells back from the nursery across the hall, where I can hear the boys—Jazz and Onyx—presumably giving him the same treatment.
I manage to get Amber’s onesie on—it has a little fox tail on the back because Bea insisted—and pick her up, cradling her against my chest. She immediately grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks.
“Ow! No. We don’t pull Mommy’s hair. We’ve talked about this.”
She giggles. Actually giggles. At three months old, she’s already a menace, just like her father.
Speaking of whom—Jasper appears in the doorway holding both boys, one in each arm. Jasper Jr.—Jazz for short—is wearing a matching fox onesie, while Onyx is in a tiny cat costume complete with ears.
“They wouldn’t stop crying until I picked them both up,” he says, looking adorably frazzled. His hair is sticking up in all directions, there’s spit-up on his shoulder, and he’s got dark circles under his eyes from approximately zero sleep since the triplets were born.