I think back to that moment, right before the call from her friend Darcy, when we were so close. Was I making the move to kiss her, or was she? I know I wanted to, and at that moment I'd have been willing to risk a shattered nose or a broken arm to kiss her.
As the morning light brightens our hotel room slowly, I calm myself by studying Katrina's face. Okay, fine, I'll admit it to myself. I have feelings for her. In fact, they're more than just feelings. And as much as my cock stirs at the thought of her touching me the way she did in the limo, I want to hold her and protect her. Even though I know that if the zombie apocalypse ever does break out, she's probably the one who'd end up protecting me. I want to give her the happiness that's been denied her life for so long, and I want to see her smile more like she did before she got that phone call.
Katrina stirs, a little smile coming to her features, and she opens her eyes, seeing me looking at her. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I answer. “Did you sleep well?”
“Better than you did,” she replies, reaching over and taking my hand. “You tossed and turned a lot.”
“Sorry,” I apologize, thrilled by the touch of her hand in mine. “Did I disturb you?”
She shakes her head and gives me a soft smile that sends warmth flooding my chest. I'd kill for this woman at this very moment if she asks me. “No, I was okay. Actually, I've slept a lot worse than tonight. My first few weeks in the loft, I had a hell of a problem with rats and mice.”
“Oh? The place looked spotless every time I've been there.”
Katrina nods and her smile becomes a little more predatory. “You'd be surprised what you can do when you sleep light and you have a decent pellet gun by your side. That was before I got my Glock.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “So what's the plan?”
“Breakfast, then we head down to Coral Gables,” she says. “It's going to be a long day. I'd prefer to not just kick in someone's front door without some sort of verification.”
Our first stop is, in fact, a Burger King, where we get breakfast sandwiches and talk. “So my plan was to use the Metro today,” Katrina says as we munch. Burger King does at least have decent tater tots, although I think the sandwich itself sucks. “I mapped out the address the other day, there's a station just a few blocks away. I think it'll make our work a lot easier and less conspicuous.”
“If you think so,” I say, sipping at my drink. “What about sun and heat?”
“We'll stop at a 7-11 or something like that, and stay mobile,” Katrina replies easily. “Also, I was thinking, on the way is a shopping mall. They've got to have a sporting goods store, so we'll stop and get a pair of binoculars or a spotting scope or something. Something small, so we can still look inconspicuous.”
“You seem to know a lot about doing surveillance on places,” I note, and Katrina grins. “Wait, don't tell me... you did ninja training, too?”
She laughs and shakes her head. “No, but I did intern with a private investigator for a summer. I didn't do a lot, mostly made sure he stayed awake during night stakeouts, oh and one time I acted as a plant for him as he was working a divorce case. Seems the husband supposedly had a taste for teen girls.”
“Did he?”
“Maybe, but never for me. That was where I met the girl who taught me the Touches, and you know how useful those are.”
I shiver at the memory, and she gives me a little smile. “Yeah, they're pretty effective.”
“I think it's the person giving them as much as the technique themselves,” I say, and then grin. “Sorry... I guess that's a little too personal.”
“No, I appreciate it. In fact, I appreciate everything you've done the past few weeks,” Katrina says quietly. “Maybe Darcy was right.”
“About what?”
She shakes her head, and finishes her juice. “Later. Come on, let's grab some drinks, make sure we're protected. You've got your sunblock?”
We take the Metro to the mall, where we get a pair of palm-sized binoculars and get back on the Metro, going two stops past The U and getting off. It's not far, less than a mile, and to be honest, it's not a great neighborhood. “I wonder why a man who stole so much from the city lives in such a fucking bad neighborhood,” I ponder as we leave. “Seriously, you'd think he'd have kept enough to live a bit better than this.”
“That's probably why,” Katrina says, pointing out two coeds who go walking by in short shorts and bikini tops. “Let's face it, if he had an affair with your mom, he's probably not above cheating on my mother with other people, too. And this is... a neighborhood with a lot of scenery.”
“I've seen better,” I reply, giving Katrina a meaningful look. “Besides, you could probably kick both of their asses, and their boyfriends', too.”