Page 61 of Waiting for Him
Her mind spun in five different directions. “What! What are you talking about? I can’t just get on a plane and leave. I have to work and . . . and . . .”
He lifted her from his lap until she stood on her own two feet and then rose from the couch. Grabbing her shoulders, he turned her toward her bedroom. “I spoke to your boss. I told him you were leaving and to consider this your resignation.”
Kat put on the brakes so quickly that he almost tripped over her. “When was this? And, holy shit, you can’t just tell my boss I quit. What if I didn’t want to go with you?”
“Oh, you’re going with me, Kitty-Kat. It was never a question. I explained the situation to Jeremy and Eva, and they’re happy for you. They also said if it doesn’t work out, you will always have a job here. But the choice is yours. You either check the bags I packed for you to see if I missed anything important, or I tan your hide and carry you out of here. I suggest you don’t take option number two, because it’s a long flight, and you’ll want to be comfortable. Now, go wash up.”
He gave her a gentle shove toward the door, ignoring her sputtering and shock. She tried to glare at him over her shoulder, but he was already heading to her kitchen. Her mind racing, she hurried to her bedroom, and sure enough, there were her three duffel bags all packed.
Undoing the zippers, she searched through them and found he’d pretty much thought of everything she would need for now, including her migraine medication. One bag had all her toiletries, while another was full of shirts, pants, shorts, and two pairs of her favorite shoes. The last bag . . . oh, fuck a duck . . . had her intimates—panties, bras, pajamas . . . and, what the heck? Pulling out the lacy garment, she blushed while holding it up.
“I figured you would need something for the club tonight, so I found a little boutique near the deli. The cute, blonde sales clerk was all too happy to help me pick something out.”
His appearance in her doorway had startled her for a moment before she recovered and gave him an unladylike snort. “I’ll just bet she was. She probably offered to model it for you, too.”
As he leaned against the doorjamb, the corners of his mouth ticked upward. Kat examined the black lacy teddy, which left nothing to the imagination. “Um . . . where’s the rest of it? I can’t walk around in just this.”
“Why not?” Kat gaped at him while he grinned like the devil himself. “Don’t panic, love, the bra and panties that go with it are in there too. That’s just the coverup.”
Snorting again, she shoved the lingerie back into the bag. “You and I have different definitions of a coverup.”
Carter stepped over to the bed and grabbed all three bags by their handles. “Did I forget anything? I cleaned out your fridge earlier so nothing would spoil, and I just took out the garbage. I told your boss you’d be back in a week or so to say goodbye and pack up the rest of your stuff.”
She ran to the bathroom, wet a washcloth, and wiped her face as fast as possible. Finding him waiting at her front door, she glanced around for anything else she needed. Her purse and the book she was currently reading were on her coffee table, and she snatched them up. A quick check assured her that her phone was still on her hip. “I think we have everything I need for now. You’re so sure Benny and I will work this all out, aren’t you? What if the damage is done and he doesn’t forgive me?”
“Then I kick his ass and keep you for myself.”
He held open the door for her, and she turned the lock on the inside knob before passing him. With one hand, he gestured for her to walk around to the back of her cabin, where a rental car sat. After opening the passenger door for her, he popped the trunk to store her bags and then climbed into the driver’s seat.
“I think we’d kill each other if you kept me for yourself, not that I’d let myself be kept. You’re quite infuriating at times, you know?”
“Ha! I’ve been told that a time or two, Kitty-Kat.” He started the car and put it in Drive. “Shit. I keep forgetting to ask. I was talking to Eileen when I checked on Rick, and I called you ‘Kitty-Kat’ to her. She said it was your father’s nickname for you. I didn’t know, Kat, and if it bothers you, I can stop. Does it?”
Kat shook her head and turned to face him after putting her seatbelt on. “No, it doesn’t. The first time you said it, it threw me a little. But then I realized how much I missed hearing it. Just like when Benny calls me Kitten—no one else but him ever called me that. As long as it’s said with the affection I know you mean, then I like it, and you can keep using it. It makes me feel special.”
“Then I’m honored.” He pulled out of the long driveway onto the road leading to the highway. “You are special, little one, and don’t you ever forget it. Now, let’s get you and your Dom back together, shall we? Before Ian finally breaks down and kicks his ass.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
A little after midnight, Boomer handed over his car keys before Tiny would open the club door for him. How sad was it the big bouncer knew he was here to get drunk . . . again? Aside from Monday and Tuesday, when The Covenant was closed, and he’d gone to Donovan’s, he’d been at the club every night since his dad had been released from the hospital. He’d offered to stay at his parents’ house until Rick was more mobile, but his mother had insisted she could handle things and he should go after Kat. Instead, Boomer returned to Tampa and began drowning his sorrows.
The other Doms had taken pity on him and put up with his morose drinking, making sure someone drove him home every night. Then, after popping Tylenol for the resulting hangovers, he’d take a taxi back to work the next day or catch a ride with one of his teammates.
Ian had wanted him to crash in one of the rooms above the offices, but it would only bring back painful memories of the night he and Kat slept there—well, after they had done other things, of course. At least at his condo, she’d only slept in the guest room. And damn, her scent was still there—he knew because he went in there all the time just to sniff her pillow like a heartbroken ass.
There was no way he was chasing after Kat. She’d ripped his heart out and stomped on it on her way out of the hospital to return to Oregon. When he’d returned, much calmer, with a sack of sandwiches and sodas, he’d discovered Kat missing. Ian and Marco had left to retrieve the vehicles. Leaving the food with his mother and aunt, he searched the entire hospital, starting with the cafeteria, thinking she might have gone for coffee.
After not finding her in any public places in the building, he’d asked the security guard at the main entrance and found out Kat had left, taking a cab to God knew where. He couldn’t call her to find out where she was going because her phone was still back at the compound, and she had given the medical alert bracelet back to Brody, so the GPS was out as well.
An hour of worrying later, Jake called to say Kat had arrived at the compound and packed her duffel bags in her car, which had still been parked in the garage behind the offices. After speaking to SAC Stonewall, she drove away. Jake hadn’t been able to stop her since, in all the confusion, he hadn’t known she was there until it was too late. He had to check the security videos to see what she’d done.
Boomer had told her he loved her, and although she’d said the words back to him, she’d obviously not meant them. Or maybe she had, but his job and the violence involved were too much for her to handle. While he hadn’t been the one to kill any of the Russians, a fact which still pissed him off, Kat had seen up close and personal how dangerous his job was. Maybe she couldn’t deal with it. Either way, the ball was in her court. He’d be damned if he would beg her to come back to him.
He said hello to a few people on the way to the bar and almost winced when he saw the bartender, Master Dennis, grab a bottle of Jack Daniels to start making his drink. Had he become so predictable in less than two weeks? Maybe he should fuck with the guy and switch to Southern Comfort. The thought left his brain as fast as it’d come. He wasn’t in the mood to joke around. Instead, he sat his sad-sack ass on an empty stool and nodded his thanks when the drink, mixed with a dash of Coke, was placed in front of him on a cocktail napkin.
He’d spent most of the day and half the night following some fucktard around who was cheating on his wife of six years. The guy was in deep shit because his suspicious spouse had the purse strings, and their prenup was clear—cheat, and he doesn’t get a cent. And Boomer had the pictures that would make the bastard drop to his knees and cry buckets.
Mulling over his dull yet successful day in solitude, it wasn’t long before clinking ice was the only thing remaining in the glass, and he caught the bartender’s eye for another one.
