Chapter 15 Kellan
Fifteen
Kellan
Mike passed me the final invoice for the stone pavers. “The future missus must be happy to have you back. Your timing’s perfect for fall installations.”
“She kept everything running smooth as silk while I was gone.” I was proud she could do that, but pleased she didn’t have to from now on. I’d decided this was my last deployment. It completed my contractual obligation, so I wouldn’t be re-upping with my Reserve unit again.
“Bet she’s got you jumping right back into work.” Mike winked. “No rest for the wicked.”
“Actually, she’s the one buried in paperwork today.
Trying to keep on top of receipts and invoices for taxes.
” I grimaced in sympathy. Paperwork was Tate’s personal version of hell, but she refused to let me handle that side of things.
Something about not trusting my ‘creative’ filing system.
A guy sticks a stack of fertilizer receipts under B for Bullshit one time…
“Good woman you got there.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t screw it up.”
“Not planning on it.” I gathered up the paperwork, already thinking about heading home.
Tate would’ve spent her afternoon hunched over her laptop at our tiny office, probably cursing under her breath at spreadsheets.
Her shoulders would be knotted up, her head maybe pounding with a headache from concentrating too hard.
But she’d be finished by now, probably, and I knew exactly how to work those knots out of her muscles.
How to make her forget all about quarterly reports and receipts.
Orgasms were a fair tradeoff for her doing the paperwork, right?
I mean, I was extremely motivated to show my gratitude.
The thought put an extra spring in my step as I headed for my truck.
“Hey Fox!” Mike called after me. “Tell that fiancée of yours I expect an invitation to the wedding!”
I waved without turning around, grinning like an idiot. Everything about this situation should’ve been complicated—the fake engagement, the real feelings, the way we’d crashed through that best friends barrier. But despite the details we hadn’t exactly sorted yet, it felt right.
Now I just had to get home and rescue my woman from the evil clutches of accounting.
Cornbread’s tail thumped against the seat as I climbed into the truck. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Time to go home.” I scratched behind his ears before starting the engine. “I’ve got plans with your adoptive mama tonight, pal. There’s a chew bone with your name on it if you stay out of the way.”
Cornbread placed his paw on my leg as if to say, “I got you, Dad.”
Laughing, I scruffed his ears again and put the truck in gear.
My phone buzzed as I pulled onto the highway to head home. The number wasn’t local, but something made me answer, anyway.
“Kellan Fox.”
“Mr. Fox! This is Sandra Chen from Southeastern Landscape Design Digest. I wrote the piece about Mountain Laurel Landscaping a couple of months back.”
My grip tightened on the steering wheel. The article that had started this whole beautiful mess. “I see. What can I do for you Ms. Chen?”
“I heard through the grapevine that you’re back from deployment. And of course, congratulations on the engagement! I’d love to do a follow-up piece now that you’re home. Get both sides of this wonderful story.”
I broke into a grin. Perfect. This was exactly what we needed—a chance to set the record straight. Well, sort of straight. The original article might have jumped the gun on calling us a couple, but now…
“That sounds great, Ms. Chen. When were you thinking?”
“Really? Wonderful! I could come down Saturday, if that works for you and Ms. Cavanaugh?”
“We’re not working that day, and so far as I know, we don’t have other plans.” Cornbread pressed his nose against my arm, probably sensing my excitement.
“Excellent! I’ll email you both to coordinate details.”
I hung up, still grinning. The universe was clearly on our side with this one.
What had started as Tate’s well-meaning fib had turned into everything I’d wanted but been too scared to reach for.
Now we could tell our story—the real one—about best friends finding their way to each other, and maybe that would finally ease Tate’s stress over this whole thing so we could get on with the business of us being a real us.
I pulled up to Tate’s place. The sun dipped low, casting a warm glow over the familiar facade.
Her house had always been as familiar and comfortable as my own place.
But now, living here with her, it felt like a proper home in a way the house I rented on the other side of town simply didn’t.
And the difference was Tate herself. Knowing she’d be inside waiting for me.
Because it wasn’t about the physical space, it was about her.
Cornbread bounded ahead as I opened the door, his tail wagging furiously. Tate turned from the fridge, a bottle of water in her hand. “Hey, you.”
I crossed the room in a few strides, pulling her in for a kiss hello. Her lips softened under mine in an instant, her body going pliant, welcoming. Damn, if I didn’t love that. I lingered there for a moment, relishing the taste and feel of her. “Hey, yourself,” I murmured against her mouth.
Skimming my hands up her back, I found the knots of tension in her shoulders and began to gently knead them. “You’re all tight.”
“That happens when you spend half the afternoon on paperwork.”
“Your noble sacrifice has been noted. But I’ve got just the cure for this condition.”
With a soft moan, she leaned into my touch. “Is that so?”
I leaned in, nipped at her earlobe. “Mm-hmm. It involves a hot shower, me, you, and a lot more skin.”
She turned her head, capturing my mouth with hers again. Heat sparked between us, and I began backing down the hall to her bedroom and the primary bath beyond.
Tate’s hands went to the hem of my shirt and started working it up my torso. “I feel like this is the perfect use of our entire upcoming weekend.”
“Sold. Though we will have to surface briefly to adult a little.”
My shirt hit the floor. “For what?”
I yanked Tate’s shirt up and off to join it. “We’ve got a follow-up interview with Sandra Chen.”
Every ounce of lazy lust evaporated, and Tate froze, going stiff as a statue beneath my hands. “What?”
I probably should’ve waited to bring this up until after I’d had my wicked way with her, but I was in it now. Panic danced in her eyes.
Smoothing my palms down her arms to soothe, I explained, “She called this afternoon. Wants to do a piece on us now that I’m back. I thought it’d be a great chance to set the record straight.”
Her expression was dialed to wary. “Kellan, I don’t know... That damned article has caused all kinds of problems.”
I cupped her face, my thumbs stroking her cheeks. “Seems to me it caused all kinds of awesome.”
She bit her lip, uncertainty written all over her face. “I’m happy we’re here. I just…”
“It’s the right move. Trust me, sweets. Everything’s gonna turn out fine in the end.”
Her hands curled around my forearms. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’m more sure about you than I have been about anything else in my life.” I brushed a kiss to her temple. “Come on and let me remind you of exactly how good we are together.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she winged one brow up. “I’ll agree to this on one condition.”
“Name it.”
The corner of her mouth tipped up. “Can you do that thing with your tongue?”
The rest of the blood in my head immediately drained south. “Baby, I will happily do that thing with my tongue for the rest of the night.”