I scoff. “How would she know?” When I think about it, she didn't really ask many probing questions.
“I told her, silly. About how you take care of the baby and feed her and bathe her. How you tell her bedtime stories and brush her hair. How you've been fixing up the property and learned how to care for all of the animals.” She shrugs. “She was impressed. Said Izzy was lucky to have you, and I agreed.”
Jesus. That was one hell of a conversation they had in Spanish.
“You said all that?”
“Yeah. Do I get a bonus?” She giggles and nudges me in the ribs, and I laugh.
“Can I pay you with pizza?”
“Absolutely. But only if it's Pizza Hut.”
I wrap her in a hug and kiss her forehead. “It's a deal.”
Once we get Izzy to bed and order pizza, we curl up on the couch. Kat's head is in my lap, and I'm threading my fingers through her hair as we watch the SportsCenter highlight reel. When a clip from the Celtics game comes on, she turns back toward me.
“Do you miss home? Do you miss Boston?”
My hand drifts in and out of the soft waves as I think about it. “Yeah. I miss my parents and my sports teams.” She smiles, and I run a finger along her neck until she shivers. “But I have to admit I like the pace of life down here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everything in Boston is intense. The traffic. The people. The weather.” I take a strand of hair and push it behind her ear. “Life is slower here.”
“You mean boring?”
“No, not at all. I mean, okay, I can see how it could be. We have a lot of entertainment in Boston that you don't have in the Texas Hill Country. But here people don't rush. They look you in the eye when they talk to you. They seem to genuinely care what your response is when they ask how you're doing. I like that.”
She smiles like she's proud. “So what you're saying is you like it here?”
Huh. “Yeah, I guess I do. Now if I could get Bandit to stop peeing on my stuff, we'd be golden.”
Kat chuckles and reaches up to run her hand across the back of my neck. She stares at me in a way that I feel all the way down to my knees. That playful grin spreads on her lips. “Wanna snuggle?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” I slide down next to her and spoon her from behind. “Thank you for your help today,” I murmur against her hair as I reach down to pull her closer.
She turns in my arms and kisses me gently. “Any time, honey. Any time.”
41
Katherine
The next morning is surprisingly chilly. Wrapping my hoodie around me, I smile as I stare out the back porch. Brady is wearing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved black Henley, his usual attire, but what has me chuckling to myself is the look of absolute horror on his face.
“Oh, fuck,” Brady yells as three hungry kittens scale up his jeans.
“Hurry and put the tuna down before they eat you alive,” I warn as I peel them off one by one. I stop to give little Valentine a kiss on his pink nose. He’s the runt of the litter and my favorite.
Brady places the bowl of food on the floor and rubs his thighs. “Don’t consort with the enemy. They have sharp claws.”
I pat his shoulder sympathetically. “Poor baby. I’ll kiss it later and make it feel better.”
Before I know what’s happening, I’m in the air, hanging upside down over his shoulder. “You’d better,” he says with a smack to my ass.
I’m laughing and swatting at his rear end in retaliation, trying to keep my glasses on my face, when we reach the kitchen and he slides me down his hard body onto the counter. I shiver and spread my legs to make room for him.
It's good to see him smiling. I kiss him and enjoy his hard, warm body press against mine as he tangles his hand through my hair.
I know he’s relieved the social worker’s visit went well yesterday. He was paranoid she didn’t stay long enough, but a quick phone call to his attorney put him at ease. Everything is on track to adopt his niece, and it looks like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.
But I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to his mood change. Since my nightmare earlier this week, he’s been more affectionate. Sweeter. More tender. Almost like… almost like I’m his girlfriend. Almost like he’s finally given in to whatever this is.
When he leans back, I run my palm down his stubbled chin. “You look hot like this.” He’s beautiful clean-shaven, but there’s something about his grizzled lumberjack vibe that makes me want to rip off all of his clothes with my teeth.
That little dimple peeks out. “You always look hot. Even when you were telling me off the first time I met you.”
I gasp. “I did not tell you off,” I say indignantly.
He laughs and kisses me. “Yeah, I seem to recall you telling me to get the hell off the driveway.”
“Oh, my God. You’re right.” I drop my head to his shoulder, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry.”