Page 114 of Sacrifice the Knight (Checkmate 6)

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Katrina

I’m in love. I’m head over heels, this-is-exactly-what-I-warned-myself-about, stupidly, permanently, I-can’t-walk-away-from-it-now in love. And I can’t find it in myself to get mad about it.

I thought our date under the stars was the epitome of perfect. And it was; it was wonderfully romantic and everything my teenaged self dreamt about. But last night…

I feel like a Disney princess as I serve customers and sigh like an idiot.

But I can’t help it.

I can’t stop the way my heart jumps when I think of him. I can’t stop smiling when I think of our date, or better yet, the parts after our date when he very quietly, very pleasurably undressed me, and we had to remain absolutely silent or risk waking the boys. It was like a silent disco, but with lovemaking—with whispered words, with renewed promises, and with the peak of pleasure I wished I could scream about.

Eric made love to me. He told me he loved me while he did it, and when I stepped over the ledge and floated back to Earth, he kissed my lips and swallowed my sighs.

I never knew it could be like that. But then, I’m not sure it could be like that with any man who isn’t Eric.

The clock has rung midnight; my carriage turned back into a pumpkin, and my dress is now an apron, but my prince is still here. He sits in a booth with my son while they talk algebra and giggle-snort over their milkshakes. Eric watches Mac with the kind of pride I’ve seen my daddy watch with. He helps him with homework I can’t even hope to understand. He laughs when Mac makes a joke, and smacks him when Sophia walks through the diner and my son stares a little too long.

Staring at Sophia Solomon and challenging Jay Bishop for her attention just wouldn’t be good for his health. So Eric keeps him occupied until the stunning dancer leaves again, then shakes his head with a stupid smirk marking his face when Mac acts innocent.

My world feels good. For the first time in… ever, everything feels good.

I don’t mind driving a rotting pumpkin during the day, so long as I keep my guys. I don’t mind working hard or long hours, as long as I know who’s waiting for me at home.

But, of course, like every school teacher knows her world is jinxed if someone mentions well-behaving children, just like every nurse knows her night is ruined if someone declares everything quiet, and just like every mom knows she’s about to find carnage when she discovers a Sharpie cap and a silent kid, I know it’s my own damn fault that the bell above the door jingles and brings with it bad news.

I said my world is perfect, and now karma’s throwing her mighty hand down and smacking me for my arrogance when Zeke walks through with his shoulders bowed low.

“Fuck. Mother bitch on a corn cob. Why me?” I whimper. “Why?”

Eric spots Zeke first, because Eric sees everything, and he’s trained to watch doors. But Mac remains blissfully unaware and keeps working on his homework. Eric’s darkened eyes flicker across the diner in search of me. He defers to me because he knows this is my call. Everything to do with my son and Zeke is my call, so he doesn’t jump up and create a scene the way some of his friends might. He doesn’t alert Mac to his father’s presence. He only lifts a brow and glances between me and Zeke, ready to move, but not moving an inch until I give him the go ahead or Zeke makes a bad decision.

“Katrina?” Stefan steps up behind me, silent as a panther despite his large size. “What do you want me to do?”

“Give me a minute,” I answer. “He’s not stumbling or calling for attention, so I’ll speak with him. I’m done letting him tear everything up though, so I won’t be mad if Franky comes back out with that shotgun.”

“Okay, sweet pea.” He squeezes my shoulder and flicks the burners off on the grill.Just in case. “I’m watching your back. Cap’s watching your front.”

“I’m not scared of him.” I dry my hands on a towel and stand tall when Zeke’s eyes finally meet mine. They’re clear, which is rare. His hair is washed and clean, when it’s usually not. “I was never scared,” I continue on a murmur. “Bullies are nothing to be scared of.”

I feel Eric’s gaze burning the side of my face. Stefan’s burns the back of my head. And Zeke’s burns his shoes. Stepping toward him and angling my body in a way that we’re kind of separate from the rest of the diners, I stop two feet away and lift a brow. “What do you want?”

“To speak to my son.” His voice is husky and rough. It makes me wonder if he hasn’t spoken in a while. “I’m not here to cause trouble, Kat. I promise. I texted last night, and–”

“You texted?” I interrupt. “Who did you text?”

“Mac. I tex–”

“You texted my son? You tried to go around me while I wasn’t at home?” And there’s goes my cover. My voice rises, and a scuffle behind me says that Mac has figured us out, and Eric is holding him back. “How dare you try to sneak in while I had my back turned!”

“No, I didn’t know you weren’t at home.” He wrings his hands together and refuses to meet my gaze. “I didn’t know that until right now. I just wanted to talk to him, Kat. I want to make things right, so I asked for time with him. He basically told me where to go, and if I truly want to spend time with him, I could find him here at the diner, right in front of you.”

I turn to my son with hurt blazing in my eyes. I shouldn’t be hurt. In fact, I should be elated that he deferred to me instead of sneaking out behind my back. But still, pain lances through my heart that they talked and I didn’t know about it. “Baby?”

Mac pushes Eric’s hands off and digs his into his pocket. Pulling out the second-hand phone I gave him months ago so he could have a way to contact me whenever he wanted, he slides out of his booth and heads in my direction. He stops so his shoulder touches mine, then he passes the phone so his text chat is open.

My son was honorable. He told the truth but didn’t get overly mean. He told Zeke to face me.

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