Taming Kat

by Aubrey Cara

  Any of her hopes about keeping their relationship quiet were dashed. It had been an embarrassing start to a long day. Not that Caleb had found it embarrassing. He had unsnapped her seat belt and leaned over to open her door.

  “Have a good day, kitten,” he'd said with a self-satisfied grin.

  “You did that on purpose,” she accused.

  “Damn straight.

  “Fucking neanderthal,” she muttered under her breath.

  “What's that, kitten? You want Daddy to give you another bad girl spanking?”

  “That's not funny.” She was never going to live down accidentally calling him daddy, dammit. “And I do not get ‘bad girl’ spankings, thank you very much. We're not calling them that.”

  “No? What would you call what you got last night?”

  “I'll have you know that was a...a um,” she paused looking for the right phrase. What the hell did someone call a mature woman getting chastised at the end of a belt?

  “A bad girl spanking?”

  “Nooo,” she said. “I took a strap to the ass like a grown ass woman...to make amends...on a physical level. Because that is what a responsible woman should do!”

  Caleb's bark of laughter rang out in the truck cab. She fumed as she moved to exit the truck, but Caleb detained her with a hand around her arm.

  “Have a good day, kitten” he said, laughter still clear in his voice. “We'll go get my truck this afternoon. Try to stay out of trouble until then.”

  “Whatever. Asshole.”

  “Do I need to remind you what it feels like to get your ass worn out?”

  Kat gave an involuntary shiver at his sudden change of tone. Her tummy dropped somewhere near her toes. God she loved and hated when he did that. “I remember just fine, thank you,” she spat, still fuming.

  Even now her poor posterior wanted to go run and hide at the thought of any more abuse while her foolish lady parts warmed at the thought. Damn her lady parts.

  Leaning his face up, he tapped his cheek and said, “Give daddy a kiss?”

  The man was a menace. She stuck out her tongue and made an ugly face at him as she jerked her arm out of his hold and hopped out of the truck.

  He called out, “There's my grown ass woman. I don't know why I was confused.”

  His deep chuckle rang in her ears as she gave an infuriated huff and slammed the truck door. The truck was heading back down the driveway when she turned around and faced their audience. The guys were silently guffawing while Di had a brow raised in judgment. Kat's face, already flushed with indignation, turned three shades redder.

  Flustered and wanting to stamp her feet in a not-so-grown-ass-woman tantrum, she collected herself. Despite her flaming cheeks, she held her head high as if she were not utterly humiliated and calmly if not quickly made her way to the stables.

  Now it was late afternoon and they were finally on their way to pick up Caleb's truck. The closer they got to the location where Kat was “taken into custody” the more anxious she became. She hoped the vehicle was all right. She was already worried sick that she had been forced to abandon the truck on the side of the road.

  Trying to distract herself from thinking about all the bad things that could have happened to Caleb's beloved truck, she blurted, “I'm thinking about going into business with your mother.” She had meant to bounce the idea off Di earlier that afternoon, but after the morning's embarrassment Kat had avoided the woman.

  Caleb quirked a brow and gave her a sideways look. “The same woman that lives in an Airstream year round? The same woman that smoked a jay last night and communed with your not-so-dead father over her crystal ball?”

  When he said it like that, it didn't sound like the best idea. “That's the one,” Kat said, holding firm to idea. “She's an artist. She's quirky. I like her. Don't forget she also gave birth to you. She has saved all your medals of honor and can remember the exact date you sent each—don't clench your jaw. I know you hate talking about your time in the military. I'm not bringing it up to poke the bear.”

  Caleb shot her a stern consider-the-bear-poked look.

  “I'm just pointing out she's proud of you. And she worried about you when you were overseas getting shot at and whatnot. You didn't even call her when you got shot. Your own mother. She loves you and...” Kat almost said, “so do I.”

  Caleb hadn't mentioned her little slip last night when they were going to sleep. If he hadn't heard it, she wasn't bringing it up. They had been together for two seconds and she did not want to be the first one to say it. She didn't even know if she meant it. She'd been fantasizing about him for so long that it made perfect sense that her undersexed brain was linking getting mind blowing orgasms to being hopelessly devoted. Like a ninny. A stupid ninny who apparently had a direct line from her hooha to her heart.

  To cover her near slip of the tongue she quickly said, “Anyways, she's also an amazing artist. The bronze and metal sculptures she makes would fit perfectly in the shop I want to open.”

  Sighing, he took her hand and she could feel the tension run out of him. “I don't know why I didn't call her. I had been about twenty-four when I was shot. We had almost been to our checkpoint. My buddy Skippy—God he's a funny bastard. I don't even know where he's at these days—his leg was torn up. We were all on our way back from a SAR in a combat zone. It was one of those missions we all had a feeling going in it was going to be a cluster fuck. A fuckin' civilian journalist—”

  Caleb, who had been getting very agitated, took a few breaths and visibly calmed. His hold on her hand had eased once again. “Well anyways, I won't go into it,” he said. “An IED had gone off close enough to Skip that he was lucky he hadn't been blown to bits. He was bitching about having to be dragged like a bitch, but I could hear the gunfire getting closer and we had to move. I couldn't spot the other two in our crew.”

  Caleb grew quiet for a minute, and Kat thought he was done talking when he said, “My ears were ringing from the explosion. If they called out, I couldn't hear. Everything was chaos and smoke surrounded the fucking area. I was trying to find a spot for us to duck out in when it happened. It felt like I'd been kicked by a horse. I stumbled but just kept moving forward. My body had been aching so bad from days in the field that at first I hadn't even registered I'd been shot. I felt Skip jerk, then he stopped complaining. I looked down and that's when I realized...I got as far as I could before I dropped to my knees. Suddenly we had backup and the medic was there.”

  Kat gasped. “He survived?”

  “Yeah...he's a stubborn bastard. They couldn't save the leg though. Had to take it at the knee. He nearly didn't make it. I blamed myself. I should have been moving faster. I should have...well I thought of a lot of should-haves.”

  “You have to know it wasn't your fault?”

  “I do. Now. It was over ten years ago. I've spent much quality time on a couch getting my head shrinked since then. At the time though...Skip had a hard time in recovery. I felt responsible and kept in touch. Hammered in the importance of listening to his therapists. I think that's why, years later I forced myself to go to a therapist when I finally acknowledged I was having a hard time. I wasn't keeping in touch with anyone. Hell, I had lost touch with myself.

  “Anyways, right after it all happened I had gotten the commendations and the handshakes. The nods of approval. Like I had saved Skip. I didn't feel like I deserved the medal. I felt like a fraud. I had gone into the military to prove that I wasn't like my father. I just couldn't shake that feeling like I didn't deserve any kind of praise. No matter what I did. For years. I think that's part of the reason I stayed in so long. Like I didn't deserve to come home. Like I wasn't...I don't know—”

  “Good enough?”

  Caleb blew out a breath. “Yeah. Stupid, huh?”

  “No. Not at all. Okay, yeah, a little bit.” He raised his eyebrow at that and she smiled back at him. “You're human. It wasn't logical that you thought you weren't good enough. Everyone who means anything to you a
lready knew you were—and are now—nothing like your dad. You proved yourself a million times over during your military career. I've never trusted or admired a man more than you and that's saying a lot.” As soon as she said it, she realized she meant it with every fiber of her being. She knew she could trust this man with her life as well as her heart if she so chose. The feeling was as incredibly liberating as it was overwhelmingly frightening. “You're an amazingly honorable man,” she said trying not to get choked up. “If you can't see that in yourself, maybe you are a little slow.”

  “An amazingly honorable man, huh?” His lips quirked up into a smile, but his eyes which had gone dark with the serious direction of their talk, now lightened with a teasing glint.

  “Don't let it go to your head.”

  “Oh, I will. You can't take it back now,” he teased. In a quick change of subject he said, “So, you're going to open a store?”

  “Yeah,” Kat said shyly, suddenly second guessing herself. “I mean, it wouldn't just be my stuff and your mom's art in the store. That would be the bulk of it, but I would be open to letting other artisans sell their wares. I'd get a kickback of course. It would be nice if maybe I could get someone who makes jewelry. Maybe have some handmade paper and cards... Gibson is growing and the shops in town are mostly necessity stores...I think it would be nice to have a cute shop if I could get a cheap enough lease...I don't know. Maybe it's a stupid idea.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I think that's a great idea.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes, definitely. Would you still sell online?”

  “Oh yeah. I'd have to stay on top of it. If something is in-store and online but it's not a duplicate, I'd need to mark it sold ASAP online. I'll figure it out. I have to make sure we have enough inventory. Make up a business plan. I don't even know if I'll qualify for a loan. I haven't even run the numbers to get a ballpark of what I'll need. I think I have some time to figure it out, but...the more I think about it, the more I'm sure it's what I want to do. Do you think I'm crazy?”

  “Absolutely.” Caleb said grinning, even as she slugged his arm.

  When they pulled up behind his truck Kat let out a sigh of relief. It didn't look like there was a scratch on it. She wasn't sure there was a spanking bad enough to cover being the reason his truck got stolen or vandalized. She wouldn't have been able to live with herself.

  As she slid into the driver's seat of the work truck, Caleb stood in the doorway and asked, “My place or yours?”

  Kat smiled, liking that he automatically assumed they'd spend the night together. “I need a change of clothes. Badly.” After wearing the same clothes all afternoon yesterday and then again today, she was feeling ripe. “So my place? And then this weekend we can stay at your place—I mean—” Oh God, why had she said that? It was one thing to assume they were spending the night together, it was another to assume they'd be spending the weekend together.

  “I'm working tomorrow night and Saturday night,” she said quickly. “And you're probably working during the day, so we can just play it by ear. I can just stay at my place.” She knew she was rambling. She didn't want him to think she was clingy. She was fine sleeping on her own. Okay, so she wasn't really sleeping. But she'd been on her own for years. She'd get over the whole nightly anxiety attacks...and not being able to walk in dark parking lots thing.

  The man probably appreciated having his space. Just because she had a boyfriend—oh God, she had a boyfriend. Caleb so didn't seem like a boy anything. Definitely not what she had envisioned when she had thought of a boyfriend.

  She could feel him staring at her so she said, “We may not even see each other this weekend.”

  “Kitten, you're thinking too hard. You're going to pull something.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “You will be later. You may even scandalize the neighbors when you scream for your daddy to fuck you harder.”

  Giving him a shove, she tried to close the door but the man was way too big to try to push around. Tsking, he grabbed her to him. Before she could even utter a protest his mouth closed over hers in the kind of conquering kiss that proved he was bigger, stronger, and capable of making her lose all rational thought.

  When she was moaning low in her throat and clinging to his shirt front, Caleb broke off the kiss. He tucked her back into her seat behind the wheel and fastened her seatbelt as she just sat there a bit befuddled from the kiss.

  “Do you have food at your apartment?” he asked.

  Kat had to think for a second before answering, “Um yes, actually I do.”

  “Good,” he said, with a wicked grin that sent a zing straight to her lady bits. “You're going to need your nourishment for what I'm going to do to you later.” With that delightfully ominous statement in the air, he gently closed the door and swaggered to his truck like a man that knew he'd just made her panties melt.

  Nope, she thought to herself as she watched his ass and powerful thighs flex and strain against denim as he stepped up into his truck. He definitely wasn't a boyfriend. Maybe she could call him her man friend. Or manwich. He was beefy and went straight to her ass. She giggled thinking about his reaction if she ever introduced him as her manwich. She'd get a grown ass woman spanking for sure. Her hooha perked at the thought even as her still sore bottom protested once again. The man made her feel conflicted.

  Pulling onto the road to follow behind Truck-zilla, she couldn't help but think how puny the work truck seemed to be in comparison. And it didn't drive as smooth or high up at all. Ugh, she missed his beast of a truck. The man had officially completely ruined her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Three Months Later

  “Kat, where's my belt?” Dammit, their house was a mess. He'd been with Kat nearly two months before he'd talked her into moving in with him. He knew for a fact the woman was mostly tidy. He'd stayed at her apartment enough times to know. Hell, she'd even helped keep up his place. The only room that was coherently messy was her art room. But even that had a random kind of order that only she could understand.

  He looked at his and her clothes strewn all over the bed and floor as if she'd taken out everything they owned. Then he took in the bathroom that was in a similar state. His gut said it was deliberate.

  Ever since Kat moved in, she'd been picking fights. He hadn't noticed it at first. She wanted her antique furniture in their room. He'd been fine with that as long as she let him put D-rings in the frame. Hidden away, of course. She'd said no way was he defacing her grandmother's bed. When he'd pointed out that she was obviously more kinky than her grandmother and needed something more functional to their bedroom sports, she'd pitched a fit. He'd compromised and said if she didn't like his furniture they could go pick out a bedroom set together. She'd huffed and never brought it up again except to say his furniture lacked character at least twice a week.

  Then she started nit-picking all the little things he did. She didn't like the way he cooked bacon. Kat believed bacon should be baked, never fried. He actually thought she was right about that one. Her bacon was the best he'd ever tasted. He was a converted bacon baker, but all the other little trivialities were starting to add up. He was sure now it was more than growing pains of living with someone for the first time.

  He'd been taking her to Rusty Spur and picking her up on her work nights ever since he discovered she'd been having anxiety attacks over two months ago. He'd come up to her in the driveway in full daylight at the ranch and she'd lost her shit. He'd accidentally startled her and she'd reacted like he was trying to murder her. After she'd calmed down she'd reluctantly told him she'd been having problems with parking lots and sleeping by herself.

  Earlier this afternoon she texted to inform him that she was taking herself to work tonight. When he'd cautioned against her going by herself, she'd replied that she was fine and sick of him smothering her.

  Like hell she was. He'd gone out in the middle of the night just this last week to keep watch on a sick calf. When he got home she
'd been awake and far enough along in a decoupage project to know she'd probably been up the entire time he'd been gone. She was still having anxiety when she was alone, but he was the one smothering her? She was freaking out about their relationship going well, and he knew it. It was why she'd fought him on moving in with him. She was sure their relationship was going to end badly.

  What hurt the most was Kat hadn't said she loved him since that one night when she thought he'd been sleeping. She hadn't brought it up and neither had he. In all honesty he'd been scared to say it himself. Their relationship always seemed a bit tenuous. Like they were both waiting to be rejected by the other one. It was one of the reasons he'd asked her to move in and had not proposed marriage straight out like he'd wanted to. Caleb knew she wasn't ready to marry him. The woman had commitment issues and strange ideas about what being married meant. Namely, having babies and the death of any relationship.

  At this point he worried about Kat doing a one-eighty and deciding to head back to Massachusetts. She still hadn't told her mother or sister about him or the fact that they were living together. She also hadn't mentioned to them the fact that she'd quit working at the ranch to work on her art and was opening a store in Gibson.

  Caleb was fed up. This mess was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. If she weren't working tonight, he'd strap her ass, just as soon as he found his GD belt. He threw another pile of clothes over. When he'd gotten into the shower earlier, their room had been mostly clean.

  “Kat! Where's my belt? I have to get out to the ranch to go over numbers with Jack and Di!” He waited and there was no reply. Stalking through the house, he looked around and realized Kat wasn't there. He looked out the window and saw her car was gone. She hadn't said goodbye. She hadn't even left a note. That hurt more than he cared to admit.