Hot tears ran down her face. I groaned, unable to handle more emotion today. “Jeez, woman.” I growled playfully. “I try to be nice and you cry. I give up. I’ll go back to being a jerk.”
She patted my hand. “No, it’s fine. I’ll stop.” She sniffed. “That was unexpected. That’s all.”
“I’m trying to apologize.”
She lifted her face, brushing her mouth to mine. “Accepted.”
I buried my hands in her hair, holding her close. I pressed my mouth to hers, wanting to taste her once more. She responded with a low sigh, her breath drifting over my face. Long moments passed as our lips moved together, tongues touched and teased. Desire built, slow and heavy, and my body hummed with need. With a moan, I drew back, staring down at her. Her lips were swollen, her breathing fast. I traced her bottom lip with my finger.
“Katharine,” I murmured in a husky voice as I ran my hand up her bare leg.
She lifted her head, and just as her mouth met mine, we heard it. A crack of unexpected thunder followed by a crash in the guest room and a loud yell.
I groaned, dropping my head to her shoulder. “Fucking Jenna, again.”
She huffed out a huge exhale of air. “Well, hell. I think she broke my damn lamp. I liked that lamp.”
I began to laugh at her rare colorful statement. I rolled off her, throwing an arm over my face. “Go see what your friend has done now.”
She slid out of bed, hesitating. The dim moonlight behind her highlighted her silhouette through her wispy nightgown. She had filled out a little, her body softening with curves. With her hair tumbled over her shoulders, her eyes wide with desire, she looked sexy. Sexy as hell, in fact.
“Go.” I growled. “If you don’t, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”
Pivoting, she hurried to the door.
“Katharine,” I called.
She turned, her hand resting on the doorknob.
I gentled my voice. “If the lamp is broken, I’ll buy you a new one.”
Her smile was brilliant. “Okay.”
I flopped back on the bed.
What the hell was I doing? That was twice today I had wanted to fuck her thoroughly—the woman I once wanted out of my life. Now, she was all around me. In every aspect of my life. In my bed.
The strangest part? I didn’t mind any of it.
“Katharine, syrup is a condiment. Not a food group.”
She looked up from her plate, already shaking her head. “Each hole needs to be filled with syrup, Richard. It’s a rule.”
I snorted as I lifted my mug to my mouth. “You’re drowning the waffle. There’s more syrup than food on your plate.”
“It’s better like this.”
I groaned. “And you add bacon?”
She hummed around her mouthful. “Perfect.”
Jenna chuckled as she cut into her breakfast. “Not a syrup fan, Richard?”
“I added a reasonable amount. I want to taste the waffle, too.”
Katharine held out a forkful in my direction. “Try it.”
“No.”
“Please?”
I speared a piece of my far dryer waffle. “Then you try mine.”
We fed each other pieces of breakfast. Hers was dripping in syrup and butter, way sweeter than I was used to. I grimaced. “That is god-awful.”
She grinned. “Better than yours.” Looking down, she cursed. “Darn it, I got syrup on my shirt. Excuse me.”
She hurried out of the kitchen. I waited until she had disappeared and grabbed the bottle of syrup, adding more to my waffle.
Jenna giggled. “The two of you are so sweet. Have you never eaten waffles together?”
I had to think fast. “No, Katharine always made pancakes. I bought her the waffle iron for a wedding gift.”
Jenna gaped at me “You gave her a waffle iron for a wedding gift?”
“She wanted one!”
“Good Lord, Richard, you have a lot to learn about romance.”
“She got me.”
Jenna picked up her coffee mug. “Hmmph. Maybe the waffle iron was the better gift.”
I glared. “When are you going home?”
She smirked. “Adrian will be here soon.”
“Good.”
She pushed on my arm with a playful wink. “I interrupted your make-up session last night. Sorry. The thunder caught me off guard.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Of course not. Katharine is always that, ah, disheveled.”
I smirked. She had looked rather rumpled when she left the bedroom last night.
I winked at Jenna. “We have the rest of the day to make out. I mean up. Or both.”
She rolled her eyes, muttering about men and one-track minds.
I kept eating my now syrup-laden waffle.
I came out of the den, looking for Katharine. Jenna had left mid-afternoon, and I had gotten busy with some work, then had a call from Graham. I heard noises down the hall and went to investigate. The door to the smallest bedroom was open. I used the room for storage now. At one time, it held a bed, and I used it for my female guests and the after dinner activities, since I didn’t ever take them upstairs. I had gotten rid of the bed when Katharine moved in—all that remained were boxes and files.
I leaned on the doorframe, watching her for a few moments, an indulgent smile tugging on my lips. “What are you doing?”
She indicated a few framed pictures. “You have some nice prints in here.”
“I wasn’t sure where to put those.”
“They’d look great in the front room.” She lifted some photographs from the box she’d been sorting. “These are lovely shots—shame to see them packed away.”
I held out my hand, and she placed the stack of photos in it.
I shuffled through the pictures, feeling somewhat embarrassed. “I took these.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. I went through a phase where I tried my hand at photography. It didn’t last long.” I handed them back to her. “I wasn’t any good.”
“I think they’re great.”
“Help yourself.”
“Do you have the negatives?”
I shook my head. “All digital. One of those boxes has my camera and all the SD cards inside.”
“Okay.”
“Listen, Graham called. He wants me to go with him out of town to see a client. I think he’s feeling guilty Adrian went the last two times.”
“When are you going?”
“Tomorrow.”
“How long?”
“That’s the thing. I’ll be gone until Thursday, which means I’ll miss Tuesday with Penny.”
She grinned impishly. “Not a problem—I can miss yoga. I’m not that good at it.”
“Tell her I’ll come see her Friday for lunch. I’ll bring her favorite cheeseburgers.”
“She’ll love that.”
“What will you do while I’m gone?”
“Work on the living room.”
“You have painters coming right? No ladders?” She did an amazing job in her room, but the living room was too big a job for her alone. The thought of Katharine on such a tall ladder made me nervous—especially if I was going to be out of town.
“I have professionals coming in, Richard. It’ll be finished in two days. You’ll miss all the fun.”
“What a shame.”
She stood up, brushing off her pants. “I’ll help you pack. I need to change the bedding and move my things back.”
The word was out before I could stop it. “Don’t.”
“What?”
“Sleep in my room while I’m gone. Don’t worry about the laundry. You have enough to do.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek. “And tonight?”
“We share again.”
“I . . .”
I took her hand. “It makes sense. Saves you some work.”
A mischievous grin curled her lips. “You’re a snuggler
. You like to snuggle with me!”
I scoffed. “I’m simply being practical.”
“Admit it, and I’ll sleep with you.”
I arched my eyebrow. “You want to rephrase that?”
“Oh, I—”
There it was—the flush that amused me. It bloomed on her chest and stained her cheeks. She pushed at my arm, teasing. “Admit it, and I’ll sleep in your bed while you’re gone.”
“And tonight?”
The flush deepened.
“Yes.”
I bent down, brushing my mouth across her cheek over to her ear. “I like snuggling with you. You’re all warm and you smell good.”
It was the truth. I had woken up again this morning with my body wrapped around hers. I was rested and relaxed; even if I had to deal with the after effects of her soft figure pressed to mine.
She brushed past me. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”
I grinned. It was, in fact, exactly what I wanted.
“What are you smiling about?” Graham asked. The trip was going well, and the client had been enthusiastic today. I had spent the afternoon adding to my outlines and ideas in preparation for another meeting in the morning. Graham insisted we go to dinner to celebrate.
I looked up from my phone and handed it to him. “Oh, I sent a massive chocolate caramel cheesecake to Penny to make up for not being there tonight. Katharine sent a picture of them enjoying it.”
He chuckled, and passed it back. “You’re very fond of Penny.”
“She reminds me of someone from my childhood.”
“A relative?”
I shifted in my chair. “No.”
He regarded me shrewdly over the rim of his glass. “You don’t like to talk about yourself. Specifically your past.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Do you talk to anyone about it?”
“Katharine.”
“Your catalyst. The woman who changed your life—who changed you.”
I tilted my head in acknowledgment, hoping he would take the hint and drop the subject. He was silent for a moment, then reached in and took an envelope from his pocket, sliding it across the table.
“What is this?”
He tapped the heavy cream-colored stationery. “You’ve been outstanding since you came on board, Richard. You’ve surpassed my expectations. All of our expectations. Your work on the Kenner Footwear campaign, the way you’ve pitched in and been a key part of the team. Coming on this trip last minute. All of it.”
I shrugged in unusual modesty at his praise; his words warmed me. I wondered if that was how it felt to a boy basking in the glow of his father’s pride—something I had never experienced. Graham was quick to compliment, and rarely criticized—his remarks more often teaching, as opposed to condemning. I had been amazed how fast I had slipped into my role at The Gavin Group. I enjoyed the positive energy and the entire “working with and not against” attitude they shared. His words, however, meant a great deal. My throat felt tight, and I took a sip of water to clear the thickness before speaking. “Thank you. It’s been remarkable for me, as well.”
He pushed the envelope closer. “For you.”
Inside was a sizable check—my eyes widened at the generous amount—along with the copy of my contract. What really got my attention, though, was that clause six was crossed out and initialed. I lifted my eyes to his with a questioning look. “I don’t understand.”
He grinned. “The check is your bonus for an exceptional job. Kenner signed a multiple year deal with us all because of your idea. They want you on every campaign.”
I held up the contract. “You crossed off my trial period.”
“I did. I had only put it in place to be sure I was right in my gut instinct you would fit in with us. You have more than proven yourself to be what you stated you were: a changed man. Your Katy has indeed brought forth the real Richard.” He held out his hand. “You have a place with my company for as long as you want it, Richard. I hope we have many years ahead of us.”
Reeling, I shook his hand. I had pulled it off. I had done it.
I should have been gloating, euphoric. All my plans, all the arrangements had led to this moment. I had secured my position with The Gavin Group and screwed over David.
Mission accomplished.
Yet, while I was thrilled, it wasn’t for the reasons I had thought. I found I didn’t care one way or another about David or how he felt. He could walk in, offer me a partnership and more money than I ever dreamed of, and I wouldn’t be tempted to leave. Instead, I only wanted to bask in the approval from Graham. I wanted to make him proud. I wanted to keep working for him and to hear his kind, praise-filled words. Along with those thoughts came an emotion I wasn’t used to having: guilt. Guilt for how this started and why I was sitting here now. Guilt for the deception I had used to get to this moment.
As I stared at the papers, I wondered how much the fact Jenna had stayed with us had to do with his decision. She had certainly seen enough of us acting like a normal married couple to convince anyone we were real. She thought I couldn’t keep my hands off Katharine, we had a great sex life, we argued and made up—everything other couples shared. Maybe the storm had not only brought Katharine and I closer, but also eliminated any doubts that still lingered in Graham’s mind.
Internally, I shook my head. It didn’t matter. What mattered was I would keep working hard and proving myself to Graham and his company. No matter how it began, I would earn it—and keep it.
“Thank you.”
He clapped my shoulder. “I am sure Katy will be happy.”
Another odd emotion bubbled in my chest—the anticipation of telling her, sharing this victory with her. I grinned, knowing how positively she would react. “I’d love to tell her, but I think I’ll wait until I get home.” I looked down at my bonus. “I think I need to buy her something to celebrate. I thought that last week she needed a present. This is the perfect excuse.”
He nodded. “That’s a great idea. I know a wonderful jewelry store down the street.”
My eyebrows shot up. Jewelry. I hadn’t thought of that, but it was . . .
“Perfect.”
RICHARD
I SLID MY KEY IN the lock, entering the condo quietly. I was shocked to realize how much I had missed being home. How much I had missed Katharine.
I found myself texting her, checking she was okay, that Penny was well, or she remembered to lock the condo door. Her return texts made me smile, always a little cheeky and sweet. She had adored the cheesecake, telling me how the staff all dove in and helped her and Penny eat it. She found it amusing I had also sent a fruit arrangement for Joey’s snack. When she mentioned Penny seemed more tired than usual, I had phoned the home to check up on her twice, making Tami chuckle at my worry.
I had to laugh at myself. It seemed, even without trying, Katharine’s presence in my life brought forth more emotion all the time.
I should hate it, yet somehow, I didn’t.
I was anxious to get home, see her, visit Penny, and get back to the office. When the client had agreed sooner than expected to our pitch, we had both agreed to head home early and caught the last flight out. The cab dropped me off, Graham laughing at my exuberance as I grabbed my case.
“I don’t expect to see you in the office first thing, Richard. Enjoy the morning with Katy. I’ll see you in the afternoon.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
I put down my case, flicked on the light, and froze.
I wasn’t in the same room I left days earlier. The bold claret color Katharine had picked out now graced the massive wall around the fireplace and highlighted the wood mantle. The cream of the other walls was rich and attractive. She had added some cushions, the two chairs she had shown me, and the result of the transformation made it warm and inviting. Homey.
The biggest surprise was the artwork she had hung. She had used some of the prints she found, but on the red wall, she had some of my photographs, printed, do
uble-matted, and framed. I was stunned by how great they looked and amazed she had chosen my favorite ones to use. The entire room looked spectacular.
I ran my hand over the curve of the chairs she’d added. They were strong pieces. The effect was still masculine, yet softened by what she had created. On the mantle was a picture of us, taken by Jenna on our wedding day. I picked it up, studying the candid photograph. Katharine was smiling into the lens, her face almost glowing. My forehead rested on hers, and I was smiling. We both looked happy. Like a couple in love. I ran my finger over her image, unsure of the odd sensation in my chest.
Placing it back on the mantle, I picked up my bag and climbed the stairs. In my doorway, I stopped, surprised to see Katharine asleep in my bed. I was sure she would have moved back into her own room by now. She hugged my pillow, her hands fisted in the material as she slumbered, her dark hair a wave of chocolate behind her on the crisp, white sheets. I studied her as she slept. She looked young and vulnerable. I remembered thinking she was weak. She was anything but. Knowing her now the way I did, I knew she had a core of steel—without it, she’d have folded up long ago—yet she hadn’t.
She survived losing her parents, living on the streets, the pain of watching Penny become ill, and me—in all my selfish, shortsighted, egotistical glory.
She shifted, the covers dragging back with her movement. I grinned when I saw she was wearing the T-shirt I’d had on the day before I left.
My wife was in my bed, wearing my clothes.
I found I was more than okay with both facts.
With a muffled sigh, I put down my bag, grabbed some sleep pants, and got ready for bed, making sure to stay silent. Carefully, I slipped in behind her and tugged her back to my chest. She startled awake, stiffening in my embrace.
“Relax, sweetheart. It’s me.”
“Why are you home?”
“Business went well. Very well. We wrapped up early.”
She struggled to get up. “I’ll go to my room.”
I pulled her back down. “Stay. You’re fine.” With a grin, I dropped a kiss to her neck. “I’m a snuggler, remember?”
The Contract Page 17