Page 75 of Sacrifice the Knight (Checkmate 6)

The kitchen lights are out. The hallway is dark. The only light is from those that line the booths, which leaves us both shadowed as soft music plays from the radio on the counter. I stand taller with a gentle smile and show her my spray and cloth. “I told the guys I’d help you close up.”

“And Franky was okay with it?” Her eyes widen. “Really?”

I chuckle. “Stefan encouraged him to leave us be.” I swallow the lump in my throat as my seductress walks toward me. “He, uh, he wanted to make sure you were okay. But once he was assured I’m not a prick, he walked away with barely a threat on my life.”

She snickers, stops right in front of me, and wraps her arms around my neck. The spray and wipe remain in my hands, so Katrina holds all the power. She pulls me closer and presses a gentle kiss to the underside of my jaw while my hands simply remain lifted behind her.

“I had fun tonight.” She stares up at me and grins. “I mean, it was just another shift at work, right? But you were watching me the whole time. It felt kinda…”

“Charged?” I offer. I stare into her eyes. “Like there was electricity in the air?”

“Mm.” She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. “Exactly. It was exciting, which is so dumb. But we’re allowed to be dumb sometimes, right?”

“Right.” I kiss the corner of her lips. “We’re allowed to be dumb,”and in love. “What else needs to be done before we can get outta here?”

“Um…” Dazed, it takes her a moment to click back to reality. “Oh! Okay. Mopping. If you’re doing the tables, then mopping is all I have left.”

“Then bed?”

She blushes. I fucking love how often she blushes. I’m thirty-eight years old, anold manin some eyes, so I thought the days of butterflies in my stomach and blushing cheeks were past, but here I am, and I feel like I’m in high school again. “Then bed.”

I turn her with a gentle pat on the ass, then I continue cleaning tables while she fills the mop bucket with steaming water. The bucket is on wheels, so she rolls it to the opposite side of the diner and begins.

We work in silence but for the radio playing on low. The later it gets, and the quieter the world outside is, the louder the radio seems. Katrina’s shoulders twitch and flex as she maneuvers the heavy mop beneath tables and booths. She hums under her breath and catches me staring a billion times. She grins as she works, blushes when she looks up and finds me staring, then goes back to her work as we move closer and meet in the middle.

“All My Life” comes on in the moment we cross over, and Katrina tries to continue around me. A piano solo plays, then the violins join in. I set my things down and slide my hand around Katrina’s hips when the vocals begin. Maybe she was expecting my move, perhaps she washopingfor it, because for the world’s most stubborn woman, she releases the mop easily and comes to me without a single second of hesitation.

Our bodies press together, her arms come around my shoulders and her legs slip between mine so we sway to the music and leave not a sliver of space between us. I drop my face into her hair and inhale. Bravery. Love. Courage. Fear. It all merges until I close my eyes and dive in.

“Katrina?”

I feel her smile. “Mm?”

“I think I fell in love with you.”

I expect the way she tenses, so I squeeze and hold on tight. “Don’t freak out, okay? Don’t panic. Just… Please don’t panic.” I pepper kisses to her temple. Her cheekbone. Her jaw. And I hold her before she races into the street in a panic. “This is a no-strings-attached thing. I don’t ever want to take anything from you, especially not an obligatory declaration. You don’t have to say anything back, but please don’t freak out and run away from me either.”

“Eric…” her voice shakes.

“It’s okay, baby.” I let us sway for a moment. Absorb the music. Her panic. I take it all in and pray I can be the right thing for her. “You don’t have to love me back, I swear. Just dance with me. Let me have a moment with this.”

“Eric, please…” She cries. She actually fucking cries against my chest, and when I pull back, I catch sight of fat tears on her cheeks.

“I didn’t mean to make you sad.” I kiss her tears, one by one, and collect the salty liquid. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I’ve never been in love before.” Her voice shakes as obviously as her hands do. “I was given a certain set of cards in life and was never afforded the chance to fall in lo–”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me.” I press another kiss to her forehead as my own panic creeps in, then pull her toward me until her cheek is pressed to my chest. “Please don’t explain anything to me.” I’d prefer to hear nothing, rather than excuses about why I’m unlovable.

“No. Let me finish,” she pleads. “I never knew what it felt like… before. So I don’t know that I’m the right authority on this. But I feel something when I’m around you.” She pulls back to look into my eyes. Hers are still wet, but she smiles. It’s shaky, but it’s there. “My heart races when I see you. My stomach flutters when you speak to me.” She shows me her hands. “My palms get sweaty when I consider telling you I love you too. I can’t say any of those sensations actually feel good. Nobody wants the sick, whooshy feeling in their stomach or a heart arrythmia, but put it all together, and I still smile.”

She steps back in and squeezes me tight, as though now she’s restraining me. “I have nothing to offer you, Eric. There’s nothing particularly endearing about my home, my job, my bank account. I have no savings; my car is a piece of shit; my son swears a lot, and my daddy is involved in illegal fighter betting rings…” She pauses. “With teenagers. I swear, I don’t get the attraction, and if we were to put our redeeming qualities versus our flaws on paper, I wouldn’t look like a good deal. But I still feel something for you. I still want to spend time with you. And I…” She hesitates. “I’m saying, I’d be willing to hold your hand in public and tell my son maybe we’d have someone over for dinner soon.”

She’s willing to share me with Mac. Or Mac with me.

“You’re wrong about yourself. So unbelievably wrong.” I break her vise-like grip and push her back a little, then press a hand to her chest and meet her eyes. “I see what you offer. Your heart is like the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. It loves so deeply, so loyally. The love you hold for Mac, for your dad, for Franky and Stefan and Meg and Chance and all the rest of them. It’s a potent drug I’d like just a little bit of.”

I bring my hand up and cup her cheek. “Your beauty is blinding. I was stopped dead in my tracks the very first day I was in here. I got the sickly feeling in my stomach, too. My heart raced. My hands got sweaty. You don’t remember me dropping my dishes when I goofed up and tried to help you bus my own table?” I bring my hand higher and thread my fingers into the back of her hair. “Your mind, Katrina. You’re smart, witty, passionate, kind for the people who deserve it, and not a doormat for those who don’t. You compare yourself to others, to me, just because I can do a little algebra, but you’re smart, baby. You’re so unbelievably smart.”

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