Shadow of Doubt
Page 11
Mad Dog wondered what it would be like if Kate were there, too and then ruthlessly shoved that thought to the back of his mind. He couldn’t afford to start thinking like that, not if he planned to take things slow.
Instead, he suggested, “What do you say we go find a couple of sledgehammers and start turning some of those single rooms in the west wing into suites?”
“I say, let’s get to it.”
Chapter Fourteen
Kate
Kate was really looking forward to seeing Chris again. Embarrassingly so. Only days had passed, but it’d felt so much longer. The good-night texts and images they’d been sending each other weren’t helping. If he kept sending half-naked pictures of himself, that heat smoldering low in her belly was going to erupt into an all-out raging inferno.
She stirred the pot of turkey chili she’d had simmering in the slow cooker all day and then popped some rolls into the oven. It wasn’t much, but she wanted to have something edible in case Sam and her man got the nibblies. It was the least she could do, seeing as they were driving all the way down to do her a favor. Oh, she knew it was more about the puppies than her, but she appreciated it.
As expected, Kylie had proven unreliable after the initial thrill wore off. Kate could have asked her parents, but her mom really wasn’t an animal person, and it wasn’t fair to keep calling her dad, especially after he’d suggested more than once that she take Mama Dog and the pups to the animal shelter and let them deal with them.
She wasn’t going to do that. They were dogs, yes, but they were also a family, and as long as they stayed with her, they could stay together. Bonus: she could lavish as much love and attention on them as she wanted.
Of course, that meant she also had to make some adjustments to her schedule, like cutting down her daily hours at the store from twelve to ten or less and getting someone to cover her Meals on Wheels route. It was only temporary. According to her ongoing online research on caring for new pups, introducing socialization was recommended at around two to three weeks. At that point, she could start taking the pups with her on deliveries. She thought the people on her route would enjoy that. Who wouldn’t?
Until then, however, she had to swallow her pride, call in some favors, and ask for help.
Duke’s soft woof alerted her to Chris’s arrival. She removed her apron and ran her hands over her sweater, tugging it down over her black jeans. Chris hadn’t said where they were going for dinner, but she knew the outfit was appropriate for anyplace in or around Sumneyville.
She might have been a bit overeager, opening the door and welcoming them before they had a chance to knock.
As usual, her heart did a flip-flop or twelve when she saw Chris. Even more so now that she knew what was beneath all those layers of outerwear, thanks to their nightly text exchanges.
“Thank you so much for coming. Please, come in. Can I take your coats?”
The large, stoic-looking man beside Sam helped her off with her coat before removing his. Though Kate had never met him, she had seen him before. The first time was at Santori’s café, where Sam used to work before the place burned down. More recently, he’d been outside Handelmann’s the last time Chris was in.
Depending on who she listened to, Sam’s beau was either her guardian angel or the evil villain who had lured her away from her people. Kate preferred to believe the former. In her opinion, the people of Sumneyville hadn’t been very kind to Sam over the years. That was one of the reasons she’d made it a point to stop in Santori’s several times a week and say hello. Also, Sam’s coffee and muffins were to die for.
“Kate, it’s so good to see you again,” Sam said. “I brought Steve with me. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course.” She held her hand out. “Hi, Steve. I’m Kate.”
His grip was firm but gentle. Like Chris, he seemed to be more of the strong and silent type.
Kate took their coats and hung them on the old-fashioned coat rack next to the door. It was a monstrous thing, nearly seven feet of hand-carved oak with no less than eight brass hangers.
Sam appreciatively eyed it with appreciation. “I haven’t seen one of those in a while. My grandparents used to have one.”
“My great-grandfather made it out of an oak that came down in a storm one summer,” Kate said proudly.
“This used to be your grandparents’ house, right?” Sam said, recognition dawning. “Hans and Gertrude Handelmann?”
“Right. It was my great-grandparents’ before that. A Main Street original. There’s even hand-hewn beams and a dirt floor in the basement.” Kate clamped her lips together, aware that she was babbling again.
“Hey, Kate,” Chris said, the ghost of a smile playing against his fine male lips.
“Hey yourself.”
“What smells so good?”
“Turkey chili.”
His brows drew together. “You cooked? I’m supposed to be taking you out.”
“I did, and you are. The chili is for them, not us.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Sam said.
Kate shrugged. Having food on hand when someone came by was just common courtesy in her book. “It’s the least I could do. You’re doing me a huge favor and giving me peace of mind by dog-sitting. Want to see them?”
“Absolutely!”
She took them over to the dining room, where several of the pups were nursing.
Sam practically melted right then and there. “They are so precious!”
“Right?”
Feeling like a new mom, Kate gave Sam a quick rundown on everything she might need and where to find it. “The pups don’t do much besides sleep and eat. Mama Dog’s got everything under control, but I like to give her a five-to-ten-minute break to do her thing every so often.”
“What about the big guy?” Sam asked, looking at Duke.
Since Duke had already vetted Sam and Steve at the door, Kate wasn’t worried about leaving him with them. “Don’t worry about him. He comes and goes as he pleases through the doggie door in the kitchen, though he’s been sticking pretty close to Mama Dog these days.”
“Got it. Piece of cake.”
“And please, make yourselves at home. TV’s in there. Chili’s in the slow cooker, and rolls are staying warm in the oven. Here’s my cell number if anything comes up.”
By the time she paused to take a breath, Chris was struggling not to smile and gently nudging her toward the door. “Relax, Kate. They’ve got this.”
She didn’t fully exhale until they pulled away from the curb. Sitting next to Chris in his truck and breathing in his subtle, spicy scent had an instant calming effect.
He reached between them and entwined his fingers with hers like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Dinner first? Or shopping?”
“Shopping first, if that’s okay. Then, we won’t have to rush through dinner to get to the store before it closes.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
He held her hand as they drove through town, releasing only when he had to shift and then reclaiming it as soon as he had. She wasn’t complaining. His hand was warm, his grip both firm and gentle at the same time. It was nice. Really nice. She liked to think that he craved the contact as much as she did.
She was disappointed when they reached their destination and had to let go, but she focused on the positives. Namely that they were going to be spending the next couple of hours together.
They made their way up and down the aisles. Chris pushed the cart while she added item after item—massive bags of food for Duke and Mama Dog, several tubs of nonallergenic gentle wipes, waterproof pads, and other things she’d need to get her through the next two weeks.
As they went, she created a new list of items she’d need to get when the pups got a little older, like special puppy food, bowls, collars, leashes, toys, teething aids. The longer they shopped, the longer the list grew. Kate could already feel her bank account shrinking, and she hadn’t even factored in the upcoming ve
t bills. The fees for the initial exam had left her reeling. She didn’t want to think about their next visit, which would involve shots as well.
She wasn’t poor, but she didn’t have a huge nest egg either. Working for her father wasn’t the same thing as working for someone else. In fact, he hadn’t even paid her a regular wage until she moved into her grandparents’ house at the age of twenty-one, and even then, her salary was the bare-bottom minimum allowed by law since, technically, he owned the house and let her live there rent-free.
Rent-free wasn’t the same as free-free, and old houses weren’t cheap to maintain. She didn’t pay rent, but as part of their arrangement, she was responsible for upkeep. In the past year alone, she’d had to replace the furnace and all the outlets in the kitchen, both of which cost thousands of dollars. The place needed a new roof, too, but since the last estimate had come in at over twenty thousand dollars, she was putting that off for as long as possible.
That was why, when Chris stopped in front of a display that looked like a sophisticated doggie playhouse, she didn’t even think of adding it to her list. It was adorable but not doable with her already-stretched budget.
“It’s a little pricey,” she said carefully.
“Outrageous, you mean. But they can get away with it because they know purse strings are often attached to heartstrings. I could build something like this for a fraction of the cost,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Mad skills, huh?”
“Architectural engineer, remember?” He grinned. His smile was devastating, hitting her right in her heartstrings, before he continued on, “Plus, I know this really cute girl who works at a hardware store in town. I bet, if I gave her a list, she could get the materials at an employee discount.”
If she hadn’t already been falling hard and fast for him, she would have in that moment.
“Hmm. Should I be jealous?”
Right there in the middle of the discount pet store, Chris put his arm around her waist, kissed her soundly, and said, “Not even a little.”
She was still processing that when he pulled away, far too quickly in her opinion. She wanted more. So much more. Judging by the heat blazing in his eyes, so did he.
They proceeded to the checkout line where she paid for the purchases in somewhat of a daze. Her lips were still tingling, and her body was humming. It was a little scary, the things the man could make her feel with hand-holding and PG-13 kisses while surrounded by housebreaking pads and chew toys.
After loading everything in the back of his truck, they went to Franco’s.
“I hope this is okay,” he said, his hand at the small of her back as he held the door open to the restaurant.
She took a moment to breathe in the rich, spicy aromas. “It’s perfect.”
The hostess and wife of one the owners, Carmella, greeted them as if they were family—Chris, especially—and gave them a nice table in the corner.
“Looks like you’re pretty popular here.”
He shrugged. “We came in a lot before we got the dining room open.”
Yes, Kate had known about that. Everyone in Sumneyville did. “My family used to come here all the time for special occasions, like birthdays and stuff. I haven’t been in ages.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “Why not?”
“My sister Kylie and my mom decided to eliminate carbs from their diets, so”—she waved her hands like a magician making something disappear—“no más.”
“Tragic.”
“My thoughts exactly. A life without pasta is hardly a life at all.”
He laughed, his dark blue eyes twinkling like a full moon reflecting on the river.
“Hey there, stranger. Haven’t seen you around lately. Where’ve you been?”
Just as quickly, the spell was broken. Chris stiffened, and those twinkling lights disappeared between one blink and the next. And for good reason.
Marietta Buschetti, Sumneyville’s resident man-eater, was standing there with her order pad, invading his personal space and looking at him as if she wanted to lick him all over. That was something that Kate understood perfectly since she wanted to do the same, but Marietta was easily ten years younger than them and Kate thought should be focusing that attention on boys her own age.
Also, he was clearly here with her—a fact Marietta failed to acknowledge. Kate didn’t consider herself the catty type, but her nails grew a few centimeters in those subsequent tense moments.
She cleared her throat and pasted on a smile. “Hi, Marietta.”
Marietta scowled at her. “Kate.” Then, Marietta’s lips curled up in an evil smirk. “How’s Luther?”
Kate wasn’t sure why she’d asked about Luther—well, yes, she was. Marietta was trying to cause trouble. But hearing her say Luther’s name sparked a sense of déjà vu. A split second later, Kate knew why. She’d heard Marietta doing so fairly recently—in the basement of the Sumneyville fire hall.
“You can probably answer that better than I can, Marietta. Did you enjoy the spaghetti dinner?”
Her eyes flashed, and Kate knew that Marietta knew that she knew.
“As a matter of fact, I did.” Marietta lifted her chin and turned back to Chris, dismissing Kate once again. “So, what’s your pleasure?”
To his credit, Chris all but ignored Marietta and directed his attention to her. “What would you like, Kate?”
Oh, Kate knew exactly what she’d like. Unfortunately, bitch-slapping Marietta wasn’t on the menu. “Well, I chose last time, so it’s your turn.”
His lips quirked. “In that case, we’ll start with a pitcher of the dark lager and the appetizer sampler and then follow that up with one Alfredo and one chicken Parm with extra plates, so we can share.”
His eyes met Kate’s as he picked up her menu and handed both to Marietta.
“How’d I do?” he asked, mimicking the question she’d asked him at Andy’s.
“A-plus.”
When Marietta walked away with a scowl, he apologized. “Sorry about that.”
Kate waved her hand. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Marietta can be a little ... forward. Although I can understand where she’s coming from. I tend to be rather bold around you, too.”
He leaned forward and put his hand over hers. “For the record, I like when you’re bold. Tell me about this Luther.”
Whether it was the deep, resonant timbre of his voice, the stark possessiveness in his eyes, or the warmth of his hand over hers, she didn’t know, but a serious case of the tinglies erupted and settled in her girlie bits.
“Ancient history.”
Those eyes held her captive, asking questions that didn’t pass over his lips.
She exhaled. She didn’t want to spend any part of their evening together talking about Luther, but it was best to nip Marietta’s meddling in the bud.
“Luther does the books for the store. We dated once a few years ago. It didn’t work out.”
“Should I be jealous?” he asked softly, dangerously, using the same words she had in the pet store.
“Not even a little.”
She was still staring into his deep blue eyes, wondering if they could get their orders to go, when Marietta returned and plunked a pitcher down on the table, splashing the contents over their joined hands.
“Oh, sorry about that,” she said, not sounding sorry at all.
“No problem,” Chris replied.
Without a glance toward Marietta, he lifted Kate’s hand toward his lips. She held her breath, wondering if he was going to kiss it or lick it with equal anticipation. Instead, he used his napkin to clean around and between her fingers with gentle strokes. Then, he kissed her hand—and very discreetly used a bit of tongue—before wiping his own.
She might have whimpered.
Correction: by the sudden darkening of his eyes, Kate was sure she’d whimpered.
“So,” she said, summoning her senses before she crawled over the table and straddled him to get more tongue action, “y
ou used to come here a lot, huh?”
“With the guys, yes. Of course, Sandy was here then. She usually ran interference and took care of us.”
“She’s living at Sanctuary now, isn’t she?”
He nodded but didn’t offer more details, and she didn’t ask.
Sandy Summers had been a regular subject of firehouse scuttlebutt for as long as Kate could remember, more so because of her family situation than anything she herself had done. First, Sandy’s father had had an affair and abandoned them. Then, her brother committed suicide shortly after returning from the service, and her mom got cancer. Tongues really wagged, however, when Sandy started hanging around with one of the Sanctuary guys and then suddenly left town for a designing job in New York. Her recent return had inspired a whole new set of speculative theories, each more outrageous than the last.
For what it was worth, Kate had always liked Sandy and quietly cheered for her having the guts to go after what she wanted. So few did.
It wasn’t Marietta who brought their food a short while later, but Jeannie. Jeannie Buschetti worked in the kitchen and was married to Rico, and as such, she was also Carmella’s sister-in-law and Marietta’s aunt.
“Carmella told me you were here,” Jeannie said, sliding the tray of sizzling appetizers onto their table. She looked at Chris first. “How’s our girl, Sandy? I heard what happened. Well, one version of it anyway,” she said with a frown. “I always said Dwayne Freed was trouble. Is she doing okay?”
“She’s doing fine,” Chris assured her.
“Good, good.” Jeannie turned to me. “And how are you, Kate? This guy treating you right?”
“He is.”
She winked. “Just checking. I’ll leave you be. I just wanted to say hi. Enjoy your dinner and tell Sandy we were asking about her.”
“I will,” Chris promised.
The appetizers were delicious and incredibly filling. “I don’t remember their appetizer platters being quite so big,” Kate commented, dipping a perfectly crisped mozzarella stick into a tomato-based sauce while mentally attempting to identify the blend of herbs to re-create later.