Climbing into bed, he moved close against her and draped an arm over her hips. He was so warm, so solid, and being so close to him was one of the best feelings in the world.
“Good night, Kate,” he said softly, kissing her cheek.
“Good night, Chris.”
She closed her eyes and sighed in bliss.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mad Dog
Mad Dog stared at Kate, awed by both her beauty and the fact that she was in his bed. She’d awoken a few times during the night but snuggled into him and fallen right back asleep each time. He loved that she was taking comfort in him. Loved the feel of her body against his, so soft and giving where he was so hard and unyielding.
As much as he would like to stay in bed with her forever, he needed to get up and take care of a few things—specifically, the persistent morning wood that was incapable of understanding that pleasing Kate wasn’t on the agenda. It knew only that it had spent the majority of the night pressed up against her lush curves and wanted more.
He tried to extricate himself as carefully as possible, but Kate was having none of it. It seemed that his woman was every bit as aware of him as he was of her.
“You’re not getting up, are you?” she asked sleepily.
“Shh. Go back to sleep.”
She shifted her hips, bringing them back into contact with his groin. He groaned.
Kate was sleeping on her back because her left arm was in a sling to minimize movement. That left her right hand free to slip between them ... and into his pajama bottoms. She didn’t have to go far to find what she was looking for. His cock was straining toward the waistband.
“Kate,” he warned, his voice a low, rumbling hiss.
He pulled his hips back and tried to gently remove her hand, but she wrapped her fingers around him and squeezed. Bright lights danced behind his eyes.
“Kate.”
She laughed and began to move her hand in slow, deliberate strokes. He should pull away. He was bigger and stronger and knew she needed his care, not his lust. But her hand felt so damn good around his cock.
He closed his eyes and lied to himself, Just a few seconds, and then I’ll stop her.
“We shouldn’t,” he managed, thrusting into her hand.
“Why not?”
“You’re recovering.”
Her hand stopped at the top, her thumb and fingers sliding through the wetness there. “My right hand is just fine. And I think I owe you one.”
He stopped thrusting, opened his eyes, and peered intensely into hers. “You never owe me anything. Ever. Got it?”
“You’re right,” she said, resuming her stroking.
He allowed it. Her hand was much smoother and smaller than his, and she did this twist-slide-rotate thing that felt amazing.
“To be clear, I’m doing this because I want to. Because I’ve been fantasizing about touching you like this for weeks.”
He grunted. Just a few more seconds.
“And,” she continued, “if I could move around a little better, it would be my mouth around your cock, not my hand.”
“Fuck, Kate.”
“Show me how you like it,” she prompted.
He wrapped his much larger hand around hers and got her to tighten her grip while leaning over and kissing her, trying so hard to retain some measure of control. She was a fast learner, meeting his thrusts with eye-crossing pressure.
As good as it felt, he wanted her right there with him.
He removed his hand from hers and slipped it into her panties. If he’d had any doubts that she was as revved up as he was, they were quickly dispatched. His fingers slid into silken heat, wet and wanting. He teased her tight bud a little with his thumb, even as he slid one finger inside.
She gasped and moaned, the sound like crack to his already-jacked-up libido. She gripped harder and increased the pace of her strokes. He added a second finger to the first and synchronized the thrusts with those of his cock.
Before long, he felt the telltale tingle building deep and upped his game. Within minutes, she was clamping down around his fingers in a powerful O just as he was spilling into her hand.
Panting but happy, they slowly brought each other down. Her eyes blazed when he lifted his fingers to his lips.
Then, she fucking destroyed him when she did the same with hers.
“Fuck, Kate. That was ...” He didn’t even have a word for it. Of all the things he’d envisioned doing to and with her, mutual handies wasn’t among them, but damn.
“Hot,” she finished.
“Yeah, hot.”
She kissed him then, and that was even hotter.
“Okay,” she teased with a wicked grin, “now, you can go.”
He knew her touch would be devastating, but this sense of being so in tune with her afterward was an unexpected bonus. A new lightness filled his chest, the perfect chaser to the last few moments of bliss.
He nipped her bottom lip. “I feel so used.”
His woman laughed. “Get used to it. You can’t press something like that up against me all night and not expect me to take advantage.”
He laughed, too, probably the first time he’d ever done so with a woman in his bed. Then again, Kate was the first woman he’d ever brought into his personal space, so ...
“And, you know, thanks for what you did, too.” Her cheeks turned this beautiful shade of rose gold.
Mad Dog found it absolutely fascinating that she could talk about sucking his cock without batting an eyelash but blushed when expressing appreciation for a good finger bang.
“My pleasure.”
“Hmm,” she hummed. “Pretty sure it was mine.”
They shared more kisses, these more tender. More intimate. More. With each one, she became more ingrained in his soul.
“I need a shower,” he said, aware of the sticky mess in his pants.
“It’s a shame it isn’t bigger, or else I’d join you.”
Her words conjured images of running soapy hands over her wet, naked body, eventually culminating in hot shower sex. Unfortunately, his shower stall was barely big enough for him as it was. He thought of the cabins scattered across the property, his mind already drafting schematics to extend the bathroom and install a large shower area that would accommodate the things he had in mind. Multiple showerheads. A bench seat. Maybe some hand grips on the wall.
By the time he was finished with his shower, Kate had fallen back asleep. She looked so peaceful; he didn’t want to wake her. He left her pills on the bedside table along with a glass of water and a note, telling her he’d be back soon, and then he trekked over to the main building to bring back Sam’s magic elixir and a hot breakfast. He had stuff in the trailer but thought she’d appreciate Sam’s cooking more than instant oatmeal or cold cereal.
“Morning,” Sam greeted when he entered the dining room. She was sitting at a table with Sandy, Heff, and Smoke. “How’s Kate?”
“Sleeping. I’d like to take something back for her.”
“Breakfast in bed.” Heff smiled. “Now, that’s the way to do it.”
Sandy frowned at him. “You didn’t bring me breakfast in bed.”
“Sweetheart,” he told her with a wicked smile, “you were breakfast.”
Sandy flushed a brilliant shade of red.
Smoke scowled. “TMI, man.”
Sam ignored them—though her cheeks were pink, too—and rose. “Sure. Let me get you something you can carry back.”
“I’ll come with you,” Sandy said quickly, leaving Heff smirking.
“Speaking of TMI,” Smoke said as they disappeared into the kitchen, “Sam said she and Kate were talking about some of the plans we have for this place.”
Mad Dog shrugged. “So?”
“So, she also said that Kate knew about the greenhouses because you went to Handelmann’s and talked to her father about special-ordering a bunch of shit.”
“Yeah, I did. Again, I ask, so?”
Smoke pin
ned him with a what the fuck is wrong with you look, which really wasn’t that different from every other expression the stoic motherfucker had.
“If you have a point, get to it.”
“You know how Church feels about oversharing,” he said finally.
“It’s not like I’m sharing classified intel. I fail to see how ordering a few building supplies and fostering goodwill with a local business are bad things.”
“The more they know about what we’re doing here, the more opportunities they have to screw with us.”
Mad Dog knew what he was talking about. More often than not, when they filed for permits, tried to rent equipment, or scheduled inspections, something conveniently happened to screw it up. Permit applications got lost. Backhoes and loaders were booked out from underneath them. Things “came up” at the last minute, and county license inspectors didn’t show.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that those things weren’t a string of random coincidences. There were those in town—namely, Daryl Freed and associates—who were trying to sabotage their efforts. They liked to play on people’s fears about the project, basing their resistance on the totally fabricated instability of the men and women Sanctuary were trying to help. Using whispers and innuendos, they suggested that vets having difficulty transitioning back into civilian life could be a potential danger to the fine citizens of Sumneyville.
That was a crock of shit. Planting seeds of fear without substantiating their claims was a powerful tactic employed by cowards and bullies. They had no factual basis. Vets had a much higher chance of hurting themselves than hurting someone else. They knew it, too, which was one of the many reasons Church and the rest of them believed Daryl Freed’s subterfuge had nothing to do with local civilian safety and everything to do with something far more personal.
“Look, Mad Dog,” Heff said, “I know how you feel, man, but Smoke has a point.”
Mad Dog scoffed. “Says the guy whose woman shared a house with one of Freed’s sycophants.”
Heff’s features hardened, all traces of levity vanishing from his expression. “I didn’t tell Sandy what was going on here, did I? And Sandy used her job in the township office to help us, not hurt us.”
The thought of Kate doing anything to hurt them was ridiculous.
“Are you saying Kate’s batting for Freed’s team, like some kind of fucking spy?”
“No, no one is saying that,” Smoke said calmly. “What we are saying is, she’s smack dab in the center of the web of people who are.”
Mad Dog pressed his lips together. As much as he wanted to argue that point, he couldn’t. Kate had history with Luther Renninger and volunteered at the fire hall where Lenny Petraski and his buddies hung out, and Handelmann’s was providing the preppers—some of their biggest critics—with the shit they needed to create a substantial bunker.
The bottom line was, he couldn’t be objective when it came to Kate. If one of the other guys were in the same position, he’d probably be voicing the same concerns. In fact, he’d originally had similar thoughts about Sandy and Sam. Trust but verify was branded into their DNA.
“So, you want me to keep Kate away from here; is that it?”
“Fuck no,” Smoke said, shaking his head. “Sam loves having her around.”
“Sandy does, too,” Heff agreed.
“And for the record, we like her,” Smoke continued. “None of us believes that Kate is knowingly accumulating information to use against us.”
“But that doesn’t mean others aren’t going to take advantage of the fact that she’s cozying up to you,” Heff pointed out.
Mad Dog could see Renninger trying to subtly coax information out of Kate. Petraski, too.
Smoke nodded and drained his coffee. “As long as there is a shadow of doubt, best to keep a lid on the inside info.”
He nodded. Didn’t mean he had to like it though.
Sam returned with an insulated grocery bag and handed it to him. “Here, this is for you and Kate. French toast sticks, sausage, fresh fruit, plus two large coffees.”
“Thanks, Sam. You’re the best.”
She beamed. “Tell Kate to come over when she’s ready, okay?”
He glanced at Smoke and Heff to confirm that they were cool with that. Both nodded slightly.
“I will.”
Kate was awake and dressed when he returned with breakfast.
“Hey, baby. Feeling okay?”
“Much better,” she said. “In fact, I’m going to cut down on the pain meds and switch to OTCs. My brain is just too foggy on those things, and I want to enjoy every minute I can with you.”
The woman held the key to his soul in the palm of her hand, and she didn’t even know it.
“Keep saying things like that, Miss Handelmann, and you’ll never get rid of me.”
“Pfft. Like I’d ever want to. What do you have there?”
“Breakfast and coffee.”
“You are a god,” she said, sticking her nose in the bag and inhaling. “But you didn’t have to do that. I could have made something.”
“You are supposed to be recovering,” he reminded her.
“I am. That doesn’t mean I can’t do anything.”
She started pulling containers out of the bag, but he gently took them from her.
“No, it means that I get to take care of you. Please sit and let me get this.”
She blinked rapidly two or three times. “I have told you that you’re the most thoughtful man ever, haven’t I?”
He shrugged. “Maybe you’ve just been surrounded by assholes.”
“No argument there,” she murmured and then went up on her toes and kissed his jaw. “But I just want you to know how much I appreciate it.”
There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, but the fact that she recognized and appreciated it? Bonus.
He plated the meals and sat down to eat with her. “So, why are you up and about instead of resting?”
“Staying in bed just isn’t as appealing if you’re not there with me,” she said, snagging another piece of his heart. “But I got a call from Chief Freed this morning. He wants me to come into the station.”
Mad Dog chewed slowly, carefully choosing his next words. “Did he say why?”
“He heard about the accident. When I told him about the truck that pushed me off the road, he said he needed more information if I wanted to file an official report.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I probably wouldn’t file an official report.”
He stared at her incredulously. “Why the hell not?”
She frowned. “It’s pointless. Either the guy is a local or he isn’t. If he isn’t, he’s long gone, and without a license plate, we won’t be able to find him.”
“And if he is local?”
“Then, there’s a good chance Chief Freed already knows who he is. Lots of local guys have spotters but a whole rack of them? Not so much. Only the real avid hunters, like Chief Freed himself, fit their trucks with gear like that. Which means that if it was a local ...” She didn’t finish that statement, proving she had an accurate measure of Freed.
Mad Dog made a mental note to ask Cage to compile of list of pickup truck owners in the area, and then he would be making some drive-bys to see which ones had racks of lights across the top. Then, he’d make a few unscheduled visits to those who did.
Kate cleared her throat and stared into her coffee. “If I don’t file a report, chances are, there will be some anonymous donations made to help defray the cost of my medical bills, and my Jeep will get fixed at an extremely discounted rate. The flip side of that is that I’ll never find out who it was. But I’m sure it was an accident. Probably just someone who had had a few too many and wasn’t thinking straight.”
He couldn’t help himself from blurting out, “That is so fucking wrong. You know that, right?”
“That’s life in Sumneyville. They take care of their own.”
Mad Dog didn’
t fail to notice how she’d said “they” and not we.
“And I’m not gonna lie. The ER charge alone will probably wipe me out. It’s not like working for my father comes with health insurance. Besides,” she continued, “I don’t honestly believe it was done intentionally. I mean, why would anyone want to hurt me?”
He growled low in his throat. Intention was irrelevant as far as he was concerned. Someone had hurt Kate. His Kate.
She reached over and laid her hand on his arm. “It’s not worth it, Chris.”
They were going to have to agree to disagree on that. Kate was worth everything to him. What he hated even more than Freed’s blatant nepotism was the fact that Kate didn’t see herself as worth a fuss.
If Freed wasn’t going to do anything about what had happened, then he would, and that started with a convo with Church and Cage.
To Kate, he said, “I need to head back over this afternoon and take care of some things. Sam asked you to come by if you’re feeling up to it.”
“Absolutely. Let me just do up these dishes quick.”
He took the plate from her hand. “I’ll do them. You can’t get your cast wet.”
“Then, I’ll dry,” she said, stubbornly lifting her chin and standing by his side.
He clamped his lips together, swallowed his protest, and handed her a dish towel.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kate
Kate was in almost-heaven. Heaven because, after visiting with Duke and family, she spent the afternoon in the Sanctuary kitchen with Sam, devising new recipes and walking her through some tried-and-true favorites. Almost-heaven because she couldn’t partake as actively as she wanted to with one arm in a sling.
She spent some time with Sandy, too. Sandy shared some of her design ideas for Handelmann’s, and Kate was impressed. She apologized for not talking to her dad about the website. Sandy understood completely and told her not to worry about it, but Kate still felt bad.
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