Page 27 of Making the King

Quickly shoving my gun in the drawer by the door, I pull open the door to see a short man, round in the belly wearing a crisp navy suit and glasses sitting at the end of his nose.

“Hi,” I say, cracking the door.

“Oh. Mr. King, I presume?”

“Yes. You’re here to see Cara?” I ask dumbly, because obviously that’s why he’s here.

“Yes. I thought a surprise visit nice and early would be the best time to catch you both before you start your day.”

“Ah… Yes. Of course,” I mutter, looking briefly over my shoulder to the back door that Cara is still behind, showering. “My wife is currently showering. Would it be possible for you to come back later?”

“Oh, there’s no need for that.” He smiles, stepping forward and pushing against the door. “I can come in and wait.”

I want to punch him. Get my gun out and introduce him to that.

I can’t though. In order to ensure Cara follows her parole terms, she has to remain out of trouble, and therefore, so do I.

“Come on in.” I sweep my hand out, gesturing for him to enter even though he already fucking is. “Take a seat on the couch if you like. I’ll just let her know that you’re here.”

“Thank you.” He nods, moving to the couch while I make my way to the back door and duck outside.

My eyes immediately land on Cara’s shivering naked back as she stands under the stream of water.

Shit. She’s gonna freak when she knows I’m looking at her like this.

Glancing down, I see the towel draped over the back of the wicker chair and scoop it up before stepping up behind her.

“Don’t freak out and scream,” I say quietly, and she gasps, spinning wide eyed as she tries to cover her tits and cunt with her hands. I don’t look. I have the towel held out in front of me, ready to wrap her in.

“What are you—”

“Shhh.” I hush, moving closer to wrap the towel around her front. “Your parole officer is inside.”

“What?” she whisper-yells, and I nod, keeping my eyes on hers.

“He’s here. Wanted to catch the married couple before we start our day.”

Her mouth drops open as if she’s going to say something, but then she snaps it back shut.

“It’s okay.” I offer, leaning over to turn the cold water off at the tap. “I told him you were showering. I’ll say you went across to the water for a morning swim and you’re showering out here, so you don’t track sand through the house.”

She nods, her body still trembling from being so damn cold.

“Dammit, Cara. Why won’t you just use the shower inside where the water is hot?” My concern for her must surprise her, although I don’t know why, but her brows shoot high as her lips quiver.

“I-I like the c-cold.”

“You’re a terrible fucking liar,” I say quietly, reaching forward to brush a strand of her hair back, but she jerks away like I’m going to burn her if we touch.

“Jesus, woman. This guy needs to think we are married. When you step foot inside, you’d better turn into a good fucking actress.”

With that, I turn my back on her and go inside to entertain Mr. fucking Dudley while we wait.

“I thought you said Mrs. King was having a shower?” The man in question asks and I nod, moving to the cupboard to take down three mugs.

“Yes. She went for a swim over the road. She showers out back when she does that to avoid tracking sand through the house. That shit gets everywhere.”

Risking a glance at Mr. Dudley, I see him nod, happy with my answer.

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