Love Op: A Spicy, Cat-And-Mouse, Thriller Rom Com (Love and Other Jobs Book 5)

30. Kael

Honey-colored light spilled over white marble, dancing with firelight. I glanced up from wiping counters to find my mother’s nurse by the enormous fireplace near the open kitchen. She had switched on the gas fire, and my mother smiled at it from her log-style chair near the hearth. Even from across the expansive cabin room, I could see how the orange and copper firelight danced off her snowy white bob. Mom didn’t say much these days, but the nurses who rotated her care said they felt like she was more at peace here.

She spent most of her time in her own generous building adjacent to the main house, but as the weather had grown colder, she’d asked for “Gerald’s” house more often. Gerald had been my father, but I took it in stride. It meant she felt safe here. And I was more than happy to indulge her if it made her happy, even if she rarely spoke and seemed lost in her thoughts more often than not.

The lonely ranch had been a great idea until I realized that it was, well, lonely. There were short spurts of joy that I ached for. Too-short moments that filled my lonely ranch cabin with the sound of teasing and laughter, but they never lasted long enough. I coasted through each day, filling my hours with a comforting routine that only served to stretch my patience out until those sugary bursts of time that tasted like bubblegum and felt like satin under my fingers.

Mattie’s weekends.

I checked the watch on my right wrist as my left hand finished wiping the counters down from dinner. Six o’clock. Any minute now.

Not fast enough, though.

I hung up the microfiber cloth and pulled my phone out from the pocket of my dark gray sweatpants. I brought up the tracking app and found Mattie’s icon five minutes away. At least she was on time, this time. I’d nearly strangled her last week when she’d insisted on stopping by a store to get scented pinecones of all things. I didn’t care if the first snow had gotten her into the “holiday spirit.” Every second she wasn’t here was a second I felt hollow on the inside.

Pocketing my phone, I drifted over to a floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the sprawling acres of land we’d purchased last year. At the moment, it was dark, but little flurries of snow dotted the inky night, refracting off the floodlights that framed the property. I scanned the ground. Some of the white powder was sticking, but it wouldn’t build up enough to make the driveway unsafe for her in the next five minutes.

It might snow her in, though. Damn, the bad luck.

My watch buzzed, and I glanced at it.

Bunny:

Stop tracking me.

Is creepyyyy.

Ghost:

Stop texting and driving.

Is stoooopid.

Bunny:

I’m in the driveway.

Chillll.

Shaking my head and smiling faintly, I crossed the brassy walnut floors that mirrored warm light from overhead. The cabin had been built with polished, amber wood, and the open space sometimes felt like living in a gold honeycomb. I’d never seen anything like it, and when Mattie and I had toured the home, we’d known it was the right one. It had taken some time, but “home” had finally become a place. Most of the time.

The outer garage door opened, and I shuffled in my black socks over to the hallway that connected the open living space to the back mudroom. I flicked on the lights, making sure the garage ones were on for Mattie, and then the swhick of the garage door opening announced her arrival. Mattie rotated into the mudroom, her arms full of shit. She had a black backpack on over her knee-length, puffy silver coat, and in her arms, she carried a duffel bag, a canvas tote full of books, some kind of half-eaten takeout in a plastic bag, and a comically gigantic water bottle in the crook of her arm.

I glared at all the stuff. It was standing between me and Mattie, and it was unforgivable.

She slammed the door shut with her foot and looked up with flushed cheeks and a growing smile lifting her cheeks. “Oh my God, you’re wearing the thing.”

I glanced down at the sweatpants. She’d bought them after finding out that there was something called “sweatpants weather,” which had something to do with… packages. I didn’t know, but it made her happy. Looking up again, I reached out to grab some of her shit. “If I didn’t, you would have been obnoxious about it.”

“Wait, I want the food,” she said with a ravenous glare. As a first-year resident and intern, Mattie didn’t get many chances to eat during her rounds, I’d gathered. I tried to feed her as much as I could over her weekends here, but she still tended to forgo food in lieu of additional opportunities at the hospital. Even though she’d graduated from med school fair and square, she felt behind her peers.

“I made dinner. Eat that instead of—” I glanced at the clear container. “Is that fast food Chinese?”

“Don’t you take my General Tso’s chicken from me,” she threatened, reaching for it. Her long, blond hair swung around, spilling over her shoulder.

I danced out of her way and deeper into the house. “I made quiche. It has vegetables.”

“I will eat the quiche and General Tso’s, and probably half a pint of ice cream.” She followed close behind me, down the hall and toward the kitchen. “I’m in OB right now, and women won’t stop having children. It’s exhausting.”

I snorted, hauling her stuff to the counter and dumping it on the surface. “Your bedside manner is impeccable.”

”It”s better than our visiting OB/GYN educator. I think a badger with rabies would have better manners than he does.” She paused to take off her shoes in the mudroom.

”Do badgers get rabies?” I mused, turning to squint at her.

“Dr. Rook definitely has rabies. Hey, Mrs. S!” Mattie sang, rounding the corner and fully ignoring me to go to the large living area to the right. “It’s good to see you.”

My mother lifted her eyes away from the fire to Mattie. “Hello.” Her eyes darted uncertainly. “Nice to see you.”

Mattie never took it personally that my mother didn’t recognize her. “Fireplaces are the best when it’s snowing,” Mattie said, leaning against a sofa near the older woman’s armchair.

“They are,” my mom agreed, smiling faintly. Her eyes drifted back to the fire, and she lost herself in thought again.

“She’s been tired,” the dark-haired, older nurse said by way of apology.

Mattie nodded. “Me too. Long nights and short days.” She smiled softly at Maggie. “It happens.” That was another thing Mattie excelled at. She didn’t talk about my mother in front of her like she wasn’t there. The nurses were used to doing it, but Mattie always directed her comments to my mother, whether she was listening or not. It made my chest ache. “I’m going to eat dinner, but enjoy your fire, Mrs. S.”

Maggie waved limply, smiling at Mattie again, but not responding. It was the most interaction my mother offered—her little exchanges with Mattie. And Mattie made sure they never lasted long or taxed my mother’s strength.

That was more than her medical training. It was just Mattie.

She made her way back over to me, her shoulders slumping and her tired hands unzipping her coat. I reached for her, tugging her to me by the lapels of the silver marshmallow monstrosity she insisted was the best coat ever designed. “Do you want your dinner here or in bed?”

Mattie’s gaze strayed to the loft-style hallway that led to our bedroom upstairs. Then her almond eyes returned to mine. She teased her lip with her teeth, and her luminous eyes swallowed me whole. “Bed.”

Good. Fucking. Answer. I turned her by her shoulders and swatted her ass. “Go up and I’ll bring your food in a minute.”

“There had better be General Tso’s on my plate,” she threatened with a point and a squint. But her feet were already carrying her to the wood staircase near the wall of windows across the room.

I gingerly pulled the carton of soggy chicken and rice from its bag. “You’re a healthcare professional. You know better than to eat this.”

Mattie reached the stairs and extended her index finger. “General. Tso’s.”

She had me wrapped so tightly around her slender finger, she knew very well that there would be mushy, hours-old chicken on her plate. I shooed her away so I could pull her plate from the microwave, add the chicken and rice, and then nuke it. I refilled her blue water jug—cup was too dainty to describe that monstrosity—and snagged a carton of cookies and cream ice cream from the freezer for good measure.

I padded up the hardwood stairs, the windows to my right fogging over with heavy snowfall. I glanced at it, slowing my pace as I reached the top, and I made a mental note to make Mattie switch cars with me. She had an impractical electrical thing that saved the planet and would probably break her neck in this weather.

The upstairs of our spacious cabin had six bedrooms, three on either side that were connected by an open bridge-like hallway over the two-story living space in the middle. I took a left, heading past meaningless “Western” style art we’d left up after buying the house, and I maneuvered through the master bedroom door. Space-wise, the master wasn’t anything extravagant, but it had been built with a full wall of windows to the left that led to a gray brick-enclosed fireplace in the far-left corner. A leather couch had been placed under the window wall, and to the right, the king-sized bed took up most of the wall with its wrought iron frame and cream-colored bedding set. A circular, candelabra-type light fixture hung over the middle of the room, casting a warm glow over the cozy bedroom.

Mattie already had her scrub tops off and was stepping out of her light blue bottoms when I found her. She tossed them into a wicker basket, and in nothing but a lacy black thong and bra, she turned to flash me a coy smile over her shoulder.

I almost dropped her plate. “God have mercy.”

Her laugh trilled through the room, and she plucked up a black T-shirt from the pile of folded laundry I’d left on the dresser for her. It was her favorite T-shirt—my T-shirt, in point of fact. She hadn’t relinquished it since I’d loaned it to her on the airplane over a year ago. Even though that day felt like another lifetime ago, I still felt a squeeze of fear that wrapped around my heart like a python. I’d been too close to losing her.

I set the plate down on the table next to the couch, and with unhurried steps, I came to join her on the far side of the bedroom. While she wrapped her long hair into a messy bun, I wrapped an arm around her from behind and dropped a kiss on her neck. “How are clinicals going?”

She leaned against me, sighing in disgust. “They have me in the maternity ward. There’s so much fluid, Kael.”

I laughed, running my lips along the curve of her neck. I suddenly understood the appeal of vampirism. I just wanted to bite her so badly. “Sounds sticky.”

“Not the fun kind,” she grumbled. Turning in my arms, she locked her hands at the small of my back. She tilted a smiling glance up to me. “How’s retirement?”

“I’m going to die of boredom.”

She laughed again, and this time, she flattened her palms on my chest. “I shouldn’t laugh, but I might be picking up the perks of your frustration.”

“Oh yeah?” I took a step back, guiding us back to the couch. “What perks are those?”

“Well, you do my laundry,” she replied with a cheeky smile and a glance down at the T-shirt that barely covered her panties. Then she patted my chest. “And you’re working out an obsessive amount. You’re such a pretty house ghost.”

I frowned in thought, dragging her over to the leather couch. “I’m sorry—are you saying you like being my sugar mama while I wait at home and make myself pretty for you?”

“And make me food, yes,” she said with mock sincerity.

“I’m practically your housewife,” I replied lightly, pushing her legs against the couch. “You should probably just marry me.”

Mattie’s smile tightened wryly. “Oh, is that how that works?”

I nodded, bending down to kiss the delicate skin just under her jaw. “It is. I don’t make the rules. I just follow them.”

Mattie spun the princess-cut diamond ring on her left finger, eying it as she rested her hand on my shoulder. “I don’t know. That’s a big ask, Mr. Specter.”

I hummed in thought with my lips on her skin, moving slowly toward her mouth. “Don’t think too long. I’m getting impatient. How does December first work for you?”

“In three days?” she laughed.

“Mhm.” I kissed the corner of her mouth, remembering how many bruises had marred her skin last year, and how hideously angry they had made me as I’d watched them heal. I might have left my guns and butterfly knives in my past, but keeping her safe would always be a constant.

“Well, let’s see,” she mused, angling her face away to hook my gaze with her faux-serious one. “What was that word you liked so much?”

“Ah, that word,” I let my knuckles skim up the sides of her waist through the soft jersey fabric of the T-shirt. “You want me to beg you, Bunny?”

Mirth shimmered in her brown sugar eyes. “Oh, yes. I’d love that.”

I kissed her, slanting a slow, teasing caress over her full lips. My hands dug into her hips, fitting her to the front of me, and my tongue traced a delicious line along her bottom lip. Bubblegum. She always tasted like bubblegum, and it was fast becoming my favorite flavor. When I pulled away, her eyelids had fallen to half mast, and she puffed a little breath through her kiss-pinkened lips.

Holding her half-lidded, dazed stare, I slowly lowered myself to my knees. Bracing her hips between my hands, I kissed her stomach through her shirt. “Please, Mattie? Will you stop putting off our wedding and marry me?”

Her fingers tangled in my hair. “You’re not playing fair.”

I peeked up through my eyelashes, holding her warm gaze. My hands dipped under the T-shirt, gliding up her smooth thighs before hooking under the thin strip of lace on her panties. “Please.”

She groaned, tightening her hold on my hair. “Kael.”

I lifted the shirt, slowly revealing the triangle of black material and letting my fingers trace the waistband. “Please, Matilda Almost-Specter.”

“Kael.” My name on her lips that time sounded more like a plea, and she angled her hips into me. “Who would we even invite? It’s stupid.”

“I’ll invite your parents. Oh, wait—”

She let out a strangled laugh.

“Too soon?” I grinned up at her. She knew as well as I did that they were in prison for a litany of federal crimes. Good riddance.

Mattie stroked my cheek, and I closed my eyes momentarily, overcome by bliss. Her nails scraped along my five o’clock shadow. “Fine. I guess we could… I don’t know. Have a winter wedding or something.”

I leaned forward, and wrapping my arms around her waist and hips, I tackled her to the couch. She fell back, already laughing as I pinned her body beneath mine. I stretched my body over hers, trapping her legs between mine and circling her wrists in the manacles of my hands. “I told you I’d get you.”

“Yes, but you don’t play fair,” she pointed out with a breathless smile.

“I never have,” I murmured, lowering my lips to whisper against hers. “And I never will.”

Mattie kissed me softly before quirking a brow and asking, “So, who won then? Last I checked, I was beating you.” She wrote in the air with her finger like she had on the pantry door so long ago. “Bunny: Three. Ghost: Zero.”

“Hm,” I hummed, thinking. I thought about the way Mattie slept with one leg and one arm draped over me every night. I thought about the ghost keychain she’d gotten me for our first Christmas together, and the way she had launched herself into my arms when she’d gotten her residency acceptance letter from the University of Montana Hospital. I thought about the shine in her eyes when we’d found this ranch, and the gentle kindness she’d shown my mother when we’d brought her to live here with us. I thought about the way snow dusted her light hair like a halo, about the bubblegum flavor on her lips, and the laugh lines in the creases of her autumn eyes.

I thought about the way she filled every hollow crevice in my soul, and I knew without a doubt that one of us had definitely come out on top here. Because no matter what she said about needing me, about loving me, about wilting when she had to spend five days away from me at the hospital each week, I knew better. I knew she would shine brightly with or without me. No matter what she said, I was the one who had gotten lucky here.

I shook my head, smiling against her soft lips. “You’re mine, Bunny. I win.”