After showering and throwing on a pair of black jersey shorts, Aiden sat at his shitty kitchen table, drinking a cup of black coffee, and tried not to stare at Kat sleeping on his couch. He’d given her one of his shirts to wear, but it lay unused on the ottoman. Her beat-up tennis shoes sat in an orderly fashion on the floor next to her. The lightweight blanket he’d brought out for her was wrapped tightly around her and her knees were drawn up to her chest.
She looked like a human chrysalis, but he had a feeling she would awaken no different than before: scared, troubled, and extremely distrusting.
Please, Irish. Just let me take the couch.
When she’d pleaded with him like that, his gut twisted and he wanted to murder whatever haunted those light blue eyes.
He lifted his mug and took a big swallow of the bitter brew. Looked like he’d jinxed himself when he told Jax that odds were nil of anything happening with Kat, and now Jax was unreachable for two fucking weeks. He’d have to figure out how to help her on his own.
Man, he’d really fucked up. He’d agreed to watch Kat for a few weeks and report back to her sister, not get involved in her life. That was exactly the thing he swore five years ago he wouldn’t do anymore. Instead of helping, he only ended up hurting them.
Or worse.
But despite that promise he made himself five years ago, he couldn’t stay away from a certain red-haired woman with eyes like brilliant topaz.
As though they’d sensed his thoughts, Kat’s eyes opened to look at him from across the room.
He glanced at the clock on the microwave. Quarter to two. Good. That meant she’d had about ten hours or so. “Afternoon, kitten.”
Her arms emerged from her blanket cocoon, and she pushed into a sitting position in the corner of the couch. She kept her knees up to her chest. He wondered if that was simply a comfortable position for her or an unconscious attempt to protect herself.
She tucked her long hair behind her ears before wrapping her arms around her legs. “Hi. I’m sorry I slept so long. You should have woken me.”
“Only been up about ten minutes myself. You sleep okay?”
“You know,” she said, her brows drawn in, “I did actually. Usually I don’t sleep much if I’m not in my own place. I must have been really exhausted.”
“You want coffee?”
“Mmm, God, yes. Black, please.”
She unfolded from the couch and padded barefoot across the hardwood floor. Even un-showered and sleep-tousled, she managed to look beautiful. For the few seconds she passed through the window’s slanted square of sunlight, she transformed into some kind of sun goddess. Her hair blazed like fiery embers and her freckles looked backlit by the glow of her translucent skin.
When the shadows in the room dulled the mystical features his overactive imagination had given her, Aiden gave himself a mental right hook. The typical mental slap wasn’t near what he needed to tamp down the insanity that was becoming a regular thing in his head around this woman. He needed to man the fuck up and see her as what she was: his friend’s future sister-in-law in need of help. Because that was all she could ever be to him.
Aiden poured her a cup of coffee and set it in front of her. She grabbed it with both hands, blew across the surface for a few seconds, and then took a small sip. Her eyelids slid closed and she made a sound that made him think of anything but drinking coffee.
Before his imagination got carried away (again), he decided it was time to get answers. He’d involved himself in something big, and if he had any hope of keeping them both above water, he needed to know what they were dealing with.
“It’s time we talk, Kat.”
The blissed-out look on her face disappeared. She lowered her gaze, bit the corner of her lip, and drew up one leg to hug to her chest. But then nodded her agreement.
“Who were those guys tailing us last night? What do they want?”
Taking a deep breath, she said, “They work for a man Lenny owes money. We skipped town to avoid his debt, ended up here, and managed to stay off grid.”
“Until your boyfriend got arrested and it went on public record?”
She nodded.
“So when did they show up in Alabastard?”
She quirked a brow in his direction. “Not a fan of the city?”
“Not particularly, no.”
The chipped edge of the table suddenly became of great interest to her. She poked at it with her nail. “I don’t know how long they’ve been here, but they made themselves known on Friday night just before I left work.”
“The note you said wasn’t yours.”
“Yeah,” she said before taking another drink of coffee. “I found it on my windshield.”