Page 51 of Welcome Home, Katie Gallagher
“What can be done? There’s got to be a way to stop her husband.” Pops was pacing, fired up. “What’s that lawyer of hers doing?”
“Not enough.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Kate
After a long, hot shower, I dressed in my coziest sweats and pulled on two pairs of socks, hoping the layering would keep me warm. I took the freshly laundered blankets from the dryer, draping one around my shoulders and carrying the other two in my arms. Delicious heat seeped into me. In the living room, I folded two into beds, one for me and one for Chaucer, and then used the sweatshirt Aiden had left me as a pillow.
Exhausted, I cocooned myself in the third blanket and had just lain down when Chaucer jumped up and barked at the door. A knock sounded a moment later. “Oh, come on. Do you understand how difficult it is to stand up now?” I struggled to extricate myself from the cozy, warm blankets. Another knock echoed in the room. “Keep your hair on,” I shouted.
Chaucer was wagging his tail, so I opened the door. The porch was empty except for four grocery bags. I heard a car door slam and squinted out into the dark driveway. “Hello?”
Aiden jogged up the steps into the light pooling on the porch from the open door. “Delivery, ma’am.” He pushed past me, two bags in his arms, and went straight down the hall and into the kitchen.
“Um.” What the hell was that?
He emerged a moment later. “Can you get one of the bags? I’ll grab the other three.” He strode back out onto the porch. “Actually, I’ve got them. Just get the door.” He picked up all four and brushed past me on his way to the kitchen again.
Chaucer trotted after him, leaving me alone in the doorway, wind whipping my hair into my face. Shivering, I closed and locked it before cautiously making my way to the kitchen. I pushed open the door and found Aiden crouched down in front of my fridge, pulling food from the bags on the floor around him.
“I don’t understand.”
He glanced up before continuing to load my refrigerator. “I’ve had about as much as I can take.” He stood. “Why don’t you finish up here? I forgot something in the car.” He walked out and I stared at an unfathomable amount of food.
I looked in one of the bags and saw doggy jerky treats. My throat tightened.
Aiden walked back in a few minutes later with a forty-pound bag of dog food under his arm. He opened the pantry door and dropped it on the floor. When he turned, he found me standing where he’d left me. “I believe you were given a job.” Grinning, he brushed me aside and finished unloading all the grocery bags.
I stood frozen, unable to make sense of what was happening. I reached up my sleeve and pinched myself. Yep. I totally felt that.
Aiden stood in front of me, eyebrows raised and said, “Katie, are you in there?”
I pointed a hesitant finger at him.
Scowling, he said, “What did I tell you I’d do if you poked me again?”
I jabbed my finger into his hard chest. Ow.
He grabbed my finger and held on to it. “Is the rest of you as cold as this finger?”
“I was super warm and snuggly in my just-from-the-dryer blankets until you knocked.”
He took both my hands and held them in his own, leaning down and breathing hot air onto my frigid fingers. He looked at me under his dark lashes. My stomach flipped and then growled. He grinned. “I brought dinner, too. Come on.” He pulled me forward, handed me two plates from the cupboard, then spun me and pushed me toward the door. “I’ll get glasses. Go.”
I walked back to the living room in a daze. Next to the door was a sleeping bag and foam pad. Aiden walked up behind me and gave me a little push. He was carrying a wine bottle and two glasses. He placed them on the floor, picked up the sleeping pad, rolled it out, and then unrolled the sleeping bag on top of it.
He pointed. “Sit.”
Plates still clutched in my hands, I dumbly followed his orders, dropping down onto the wonderfully cushioned floor. He smirked as he took the plates from me before shaking out one of my blankets and pulling it close around me like a shawl. I was so tired, I could have dropped off right then and there. The scent of meaty, cheesy goodness was the only thing keeping my eyelids from drooping.
“Here, sleepyhead. Stay awake long enough to eat something.”
He handed me a plate with a piece of pizza on it. A moment later, a glass of red wine was dangling before me. I snatched the glass and took a big gulp. Ah. I put the glass down and picked up the slice of pizza. The smell alone had my mouth watering. I took a cheesy, spicy bite and groaned. Not peanut butter! I inhaled the slice and then went back to the wine.
“Do you want another piece?”
Another? “I want it very much, but I don’t think I could eat it.”
