Page 80 of Luck Be Mine
He shifted her to one arm, grabbed his travel bag, and kicked the door shut. He carried her across the damp lawn and deposited her on the bottom step.
“I can walk.”
“Not when I can carry you. Why are you outside in the dark?”
She toyed with not telling him the truth, but it wouldn’t work out well and was against their rules.
“Dreams. A few bad nights here. There’s chicken pot pie in the freezer.”
“Cait.” His warning singsong smashed her plans to skirt over it until later after good food, delicious sex, and a sound night’s sleep.
She took three steps to her original spot and scooted to make room for him to sit.
He settled his weight against her. God, so good. She dropped her head to his shoulder and sighed like a schoolgirl in the throes of a crush. He didn’t seem to mind.
“Talk.” Rule #1.
“You first.”
His mouth twisted, and he stroked a hand through her hair. “Same shit, another day. More weapon searches, more motherfuckers.”
His tone was off. Cait sorted through possible causes. “But you feel left out of the action. Except honey, you’re the brains.”
He went silent for a good while. “Not a solution. The more I’m in administrative shit, the more they give me.”
“Step back and math it out. You’re the best thinker they’ve got, and Harrison told you to shape it the way you wanted.”
His fingers slid under her cropped shirt and sparked off skin begging for attention. “I’ll consider that. Your turn.”
“First, Adele is finally better. Long talk with her while you were gone. That should help Doogie settle. There’s a new doctor at the hospital. Jackass, but brilliant. He’s giving me a headache.”
“Name?”
“You going to hunt him down?”
“No. For reference.”
She stared at him, sure his blank face indicated a plot of some kind, but she never stepped into his sense of how to conduct himself. Cause he was always spot on. “Breshears.”
“Sounds pretentious.”
“Oh, he is, and if he wasn’t such a good surgeon, I’d drop kick him into the Pacific.”
“Against the law. Frank would hunt you down.”
“Or help me, depending on his mood.”
Hunt laughed and rubbed her back.
“Lost a couple patients. Lots of work at QM for Mackey and Quaid. A dozen new people. More on my desk to clear. Stupid Afghanistan dream. Another one making no sense because it’s not what happened. I also have a long honey-do list in the book on the counter in the kitchen.”
“I’ll get to them.” The promise depended on his phone, much as hers did.
“Of course, now I’ve told you, I’ve jinxed us, and your bat phone will go off.” She leaned away and studied him closely. He was tired and here she was going on and on. “Let’s go to bed.”
Amused, he rubbed between her shoulder blades, and she dropped her chin to her chest. He whispered in her ear. “Here or in the bedroom?”
As much as she didn’t want to lose those hands on her, sex on the porch was a bit more adventure than she needed.
