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Fang doesn’t know how he let this happen. It was just supposed to be a one night stand, a little harmless fun, no strings attached. She’d said she was on birth control. She still says she’s been on birth control, having only stopped now because of the positive test.
But you don’t get positive tests when you’re on birth control, is the thing. He can’t stop looking at it, even as Honey paces the floor, wearing a rut in the hardwood, her tail lashing from side to side.
“There’s no way this is anybody else’s,” Fang prompts, hoping against hope.
Honey stops pacing to shake her head. “No. I haven’t been with anybody else in almost a year.”
He should be so lucky, surely. That would be too easy, if the resultant kitten was somebody else’s problem to deal with. Unfortunately, he has no doubts that she’s telling the truth, even if she is just as cunning a manipulator as he is. He is not an easy weasel to swindle. He only wishes she were trying. That would make this so all much easier, wouldn’t it?
“…But,” she adds shamelessly, “I already have some ideas for a great maternity line.”