Page 70 of Keeping Kasey
A small smile plays on her lips. “Then what am I?”
I wrap an arm around her waist and tug her into my side as we head to the base’s garage. “Right now? An overpaid nerd.”
She shoves at my chest and wiggles out of my hold, scrunching up her nose. “You’re an asshole.”
Even as she shoves at me, I manage to take hold of her hand, and she studies our intertwined fingers. For a moment, I think she’ll pull away—and she’d have every right to—but she doesn’t.
At that small surrender, I smile and tug her toward the stairs to make our way down.
“Seriously,” she says in a voice that subtly shakes. “Why are we going to get tacos?”
I think through my options and go with, “I don’t want you to be pissed off when I take you to bed tonight.”
She laughs. “That’s never bothered you before.”
“Maybe I’m curious to see what you’re like when you’re not mad at me.”
“I’m not always mad at you.”
“No? Name a time when you weren’t.”
“I wasn’t mad when you yelled at that guy in McDonald’s,” she says with a taunting grin.
I glare at her. “Correction: name a time when you weren’t mad at meoractively making me mad at you.”
She has to think for a minute.
“I wasn’t mad when you had energy drinks waiting for me in Ford’s office after you spilled my coffee.”
I have to remind myself that it would be counterproductive to my goal to remind her she was just as much to blame for that spill as I was.
“Your turn,” she says, but I don’t need time to think.
“I’m never mad when you’re bent over and I’m—”
“Something that doesn’t have to do with sex,” she deadpans.
We reach the bottom floor, but I don’t open the door leading to the main street. Letting out a resigned breath, I lower my guard just enough to show her the honesty in my answer.
“I wasn’t mad when you offered to erase Elise’s death certificate.”
Kasey shakes her head. “That’s just because it pissed off Moreno.”
“Well, that helped,” I grant. “But it was more than that. I know she can be… enthusiastic, but Elise is good, and that gesture meant a lot to her.”
The admission is uncomfortable, so instead of waiting to hear what she says, I open the door and lead Kasey by the hand onto the busy sidewalk.
She looks up and down the street. “Where’s the car?”
“It’s not a far walk.”
Kasey scans my suit, then her jeans and T-shirt. “I’m not exactly dressed for a five-star restaurant,” she mutters.
“Who said anything about a restaurant?”
This is the only Consoli base located in the middle of the city it controls and not the outskirts, and right now, I’m glad for it.
I tug Kasey to follow as we walk down two streets in comfortable silence. When we finally get to where we’re going, she shoots me a puzzled look.
