Chapter 78
We’re still in the kitchen and I’ve just finished hugging Reid and Gabe to thank them for helping us end this Debbie nightmare when the doorbell rings. Reese heads to the door to answer it and when I round the island Reid looks at me. “Why do you look different?” he asks.
“You do look different,” Gabe comments. “New hair or something.”
Just a baby growing in my belly, I think, shocked that my brothers notice the change. “You two are just actually looking at me for once.”
“Ouch,” Gabe says. “I don’t deserve that, but Reid does.”
Reese re-enters the kitchen with Royce on his heels. “Royce has more news,” Reese announces, joining me on the opposite side of the island, his hand settling on my lower back.
“Our men were watching the motel Debbie’s cohort, Wilson Moore, has been hiding out in,” Royce states. “He ordered pizza and got his ass kicked instead. My man probably saved his life. He’s in an ambulance on the way to the ER now. He’s not going to be a problem in the immediate future.”
“Really,” Gabe says dryly. “How inconvenient for him.”
Royce’s gaze narrows on Gabe. “And convenient for us?”
His question reeks of accusations I don’t understand and I study the two of them, trying to read their exchange more clearly.
“I’m not sorry the bastard got his ass beat,” Reid replies before Gabe can. “He was stalking my sister.” He knocks on the island. “And Debbie is handled. Her parents took her out of town and now, I’m going home to drink an expensive bottle of whiskey to celebrate.”
“I’ll join you,” Gabe says, pointing at me and Reese. “You two celebrate the way married couples celebrate, but don’t tell us about it.”
My brothers then disappear out of the kitchen. “What was that?” Reese asks when the front door opens and shuts, and it’s clear Reid and Gabe have left.
“Gabe called me and asked me who the bookie was that was hunting Moore, and an hour later, he’s getting his face beat in,” Royce says. “I know he did it, and I both dislike and understand it, as contradictory as that sounds.”
“My brother did that? Gabe? He’s the nice one.”
Royce is quick to dismiss that idea. “That’s like saying Savage is the nice one because what comes out of his mouth is humorous. He’s not nice at all and neither is your brother.” He eyes Reese. “I won’t trust the Debbie situation being resolved until I have eyes on her departure. I recommend keeping security in place.”
“Agreed,” Reese confirms. “Change nothing.”
Royce nods. “Savage will stay in place with Cat.” He changes the subject. “Martha. She’s home. She’s safe. We’ll have her in court early tomorrow.” He looks between us. “Do you need anything else from me?”
“We’re good,” Reese says.
“We’re good,” I agree.
Royce inclines his head. “Then I’ll let you know if I have updates.” He pushes off the counter and exits the kitchen.
Reese turns me and pulls me between him and the counter. He waits for the door to open and close. “First thought?”
“I hate having Savage follow me around. Your first thought?”
“I hate having Savage follow you around. Second thought?”
“I think Gabe got that man beat up,” I say. “He could have gotten him killed. Your second thought?”
“The exact same as yours and I know I should have a problem with that, but, Cat, I don’t. He protected you.”
My hand flattens on his chest, and I can feel his heart thundering under my palm. “I don’t know how I feel right now. My brothers. Debbie. The beating. I just don’t know.”
He pulls me to him. “Ask me my next thought,” he orders softly.
“What’s your next thought?” I ask.
“I’m really damn tired of seeing Savage by your side.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes.” He cups my backside and pulls me to him. “It is.”
“You’ve never been jealous.”
“Because I’ve never had a woman claim I made a baby with her when I didn’t. Because I know we’re solid and I damn sure know men envy me. I promise you, Savage envies me.” His mouth covers mine, his tongue licking into my mouth before he declares, “You’re mine.”
“And you’re mine,” I say. “I don’t like Debbie saying differently.”
“Show me,” he orders softly, his mouth closing down and it’s as if something snaps between us. Our hands are everywhere, our kisses desperate. I don’t even know how my sweats get to the ground, or how his lower, but it happens. He lifts me and presses me against the wall, thrusting into me and my hands are in his hair, my lips seeking his lips. It’s wild and hot and consuming. There is just me and him and the way our bodies move together until we shatter into that perfect place together. I have a random thought that I think we might break the baby if we keep having this much sex.
Reese pulls back to look at me. “What are you laughing at?” he asks, brushing hair from my lip.
“Us. Against the wall in the kitchen, minutes before your team gets here.”
The doorbell rings. He laughs now and sets me on the ground as we rush to pull ourselves together. I’m tugging my sweats back on when he kisses me. “I’m going to get the door.”
He rushes out of the kitchen and I laugh again. This needs to go in the journal. I swipe at my hair and turn toward the door as Reese walks in the door with Savage behind him and I laugh again.
“Why are you laughing now?” he asks.
Savage answers. “Because you have more of her lipstick on your face than she does.”
The look that settles on Reese’s face is decisively satisfied. I do believe my man just marked his territory. It’s not a normal behavior for Reese, but somehow, today, it’s perfect. “Just wanted to tell you that attorney asshole that was blackmailing you is in bad enough condition to be placed in ICU. Bad news for him, but good news for you. This just reaffirms the fact that he won’t be coming after you anytime soon. One of us will update you if we hear more.”
He turns to leave, and Reese and I stare at each other, the lightness of our mood fading. Yes, I’m safe, but at what cost?
Hours after we receive the news about Debbie, Elsa and Richard, are back after a dinner break, and in the living room, preparing for tomorrow, including the possibility that Martha could back out. Every outcome is considered. Every strategy dissected. I’m in the kitchen working on my column and take a break to join them, sinking into a cushy chair as Richard and Elsa have claimed the couch.
Reese is standing, pacing as he often does during these sessions, but he sits down on the ottoman next to me. “Here’s the big question,” Richard says, speaking to us all. “Do we tell Dana in advance of Martha’s testimony?”
“She’s sleeping with Reginald,” Elsa says. “If Martha backs out, we don’t want to have Dana freaking out on Reginald, then him trying to save himself.”
“Which could mean throwing Dana under the bus,” Richard says scrubbing his jaw, his tie long gone, and his jacket with it.
“We’re going to take that risk no matter what,” Reese says. “Once Martha outs Reginald, he’ll be in survival mode.”
“But no matter what,” I interject, “the jury will have doubt about Dana’s guilt.”
“Exactly,” Reese says. “But I do think we need to hold back on informing Dana about Martha’s testimony until after it happens. Let’s let her and Reginald coast through the night.”
“Desperate people do desperate things,” Elsa replies. “Once Martha testifies, Reginald will panic and Royce’s team will be watching.”
Desperate people do desperate things. I replay that in my head. Wait.
“What if she lied?” I ask.
The entire room turns to look at me.