17. Champion #2
“Kitten?” I knocked lightly and checked my phone.
She hadn’t seen any of my texts, and she was behind that door.
Was she sleeping or painting? It had been a long trip, and I’d kept her up late.
I’d planned to eat, talk about her day, and then maybe fall asleep with her wrapped around me.
All day I’d looked forward to sleeping with her.
Waking up in the morning was what I’d been looking forward to most. I didn’t spend nights with women, not like that, but waking up with Kitten was a revelation.
Even if it made me hungrier than anything, ravenous for every tiny piece of her.
I took a deep breath and walked away from her closed door. It was fine. I worked out, stayed up until two in the morning in case she finally emerged, but she didn’t. She didn’t check her messages, either.
Had Dupre kidnapped her from under Tom’s nose?
I went into her room, through her unlocked door, and then stood there watching her sleep until I could convince myself to walk away without picking her up and carrying her to my bed.
We had separate rooms, so there was no reason to climb in the double with her where we’d be crowded instead of getting into my own king for the night.
We weren’t going to have any hayrides, as she’d so charmingly put it, but I needed her in my arms. Would I sleep?
Probably not, but I’d missed her all day.
I took a cold shower and went to bed, but I wasn’t surprised when I didn’t sleep well.
In the morning, she was still out. I checked on her, staying near the door so I wasn’t tempted to wake her up with a kiss, then I left a note, that I was gone to work, and there was everything in the under counter fridge for a breakfast smoothie if she didn’t want to go out, and if she did, Tom would pay, so she wouldn’t have to worry about it.
Her concern about money was ridiculous. I’d always been able to afford fine restaurants, even after I left my mother’s house and multi-billion dollar legacy.
I texted to her about lunch as I passed Tom in the hallway, nodding at him as he settled in with a mystery novel.
There were so many moving parts to this business, which I usually enjoyed so it wasn’t just doing one thing over and over and over, but maybe I should delegate, not be so hands-on with a lot of it.
Not that I tried to take over for my team, but they were definitely a handful.
She texted back around ten.
Hi! I’m going to an art supply store with Tom . Do you want anything? I can’t make it for lunch but thanks for the invite. 3
I stared at my phone, glad to see that she was up and apparently fine, but why couldn’t she make it for lunch? Was art supply shopping that important? I texted her back.
I can make it a late lunch if you need more time with your shopping.
Her response came quickly. I’m going to be working on a project as soon as I get the stuff I need. I’ll try to keep all the mess to my room. Have fun at work! XO
Hugs and kisses? My arms positively ached to hold her.
Even before we were married, we’d snuggled every night while we wood carved or fished.
Was she angry at me for using her to fulfil my mother’s demands, or was she just cheerfully making her own life in Las Vegas without trying to make me the center of it?
Not that I wanted to be the center of her universe, but most women were a lot more clingy, particularly snuggly ones like Kitten.
Not that any woman was exactly like Kitten.
“Everything okay?” Jezebel asked as she led Snowdrop past me.
I stepped back before he could take a bite out of my face. “It’s all good. She’s going out with Tom this morning.”
“Maybe you should invest in a female bodyguard if you’re concerned about him falling in love with her.”
“I’m not concerned.” Except now that she mentioned it, maybe I should be. Tom wasn’t an idiot, and Kitten was absolutely irresistible. And if she got it into her head that her virginity was a problem, maybe she’d propose to Tom that he take care of it for her. Now I was panicking.
She pointed a vicious nail at me. “Save the lies for the audience.” She walked off, murmuring to her vicious man-eater horse and leaving me to shake myself. I had work to do. The last thing Tom would do, was sleep with my wife. He’d die for me. He certainly wouldn’t betray me like that.
The first fight was this weekend, Friday night, and it would be followed on Saturday with a small race on my own track just outside the city.
Sunday was the big opening party at the club that was currently Horse’s clubs’s biggest competition.
He’d come to my party, and so would everyone else.
Pinkie would perform with her cello, and Trixie and Jezebel would be the most terrifyingly gorgeous women in the world.
We’d start strong and carry that momentum through the season, definitely winning the three hundred this year.
Last year we’d come in second for the first time since I invented the games.
I hadn’t liked it, but seeing my team so badly beat up was much worse than not winning.
If you won, you didn’t hurt so much. That was the real perk to taking home the trophy; everything else was just frosting.
When I got home with dinner, I nodded at Tom before I went inside, feeling nervous, carrying flowers and food, but when I checked on her, she was once more curled up in her bed fast asleep.
There was an easel in the corner of her room draped under a cloth while her materials were piled up around the bed on the floor.
She clearly needed furniture, dressers, tables, desks, but she hadn’t mentioned it.
It’s like she was trying to take up as little space in my life as possible, to not be a bother.
I’m not sure why that made me angry, but it did.
Also, I had no vases so I had to put the flowers in the blender. This wasn’t working. I put in an order with a local furniture place and then I texted her.
I put dinner in the little fridge. The whole place is yours to stay in, not just your room. I’ll be home early tomorrow.
Would I be? I was never home early the week before the season started. Preseason was all prep, all planning, and I’d been distracted for most of it. In spite of all that, yes, I’d be home early.
Home? Suddenly my work apartment was home even without any real furniture? Yes, because it’s where my Kitten curled up to sleep. In the morning, she was still sleeping, and didn’t text me back until nine. I was antsy until I saw her words.
I’m going to the skate park this morning to recharge my muse, then I’ll be back at it until I’m done. Maybe by tomorrow I’ll have it finished. I’ll just order in room service, if that’s okay.
Was she avoiding me? She must be avoiding me.
Was it because I’d refused to take her virginity and also never given her anything like poetry or flowers?
Maybe she was feeling the coldness of this six months-long marriage.
I certainly was. She was a stoic, so she believed in accepting her fate and not blaming other people for her circumstances, so maybe this was just her being independent and capable on her own.
She’d never asked me to be her boyfriend and bring her flowers.
Marriage, yes, but not a real marriage with forever and happily-ever-after.
If she wasn’t going to hold me tight, how could I hold her close? If I tried, would she bolt?
“You couldn’t clear the venue for the third race?” Dirk asked, seeing the look on my face.
I cleared my expression and tried for a lazy smile.
“No, it’s all set. Everything’s going perfectly.
” As far as work was concerned, but it wasn’t satisfying.
It should be. Having a wife who could spend six months with me and not get in the way of my business was the dream.
Except that the wife was Kitten, and not seeing her was doing things to me, body and soul, that I’d never experienced before.
I was fixating on her. I checked my phone constantly, and I worried about more than her safety.
Was she was eating enough? Did she feel used for her part in the play with my mother, was she lonely, or not have enough dresser space, or…
She occupied my mind like Germany occupied France. Not that I was France. Now I was thinking about Dupre who had to die.
“Dirk,” I said as he turned away.
“Yeah?” He was the best videographer in the circuit as well as a business mogul and a tech genius. What was he doing in this circus?
“Do you skateboard?”
He blinked at me. “I went through a phase.”
“Maybe we should shoot a little scene at the skate park this morning.”
“A little scene the week before the season opens?”
I cleared my throat and went for a smile. “My wife will be there.” My wife. Just rolled off the tongue.
“She’s a skate boarder? She seemed too delicate for that. I thought you weren’t telling her exactly what kind of game you’re running.”
“I’m just working up to it. This will be a nice segue.
” I needed to see her without making it weird.
Was that possible? If I saw her, I’d forget everything and pull her in for the longest hug, and then maybe a kiss, and then maybe a hotel room with a kitchen and only one bed so she couldn’t sleep in the wrong one.
He studied me thoughtfully before he slowly nodded. “Okay. What’s the angle? Trying to bring in a new demographic? We’re too old to be cool to these young’uns.”
“Maybe we’re putting the spotlight on the up and coming, doing a competition, big prize, open the race up to a new mini-segment.”
“Different kind of wheels than we’re used to, but sure. You’re always pushing the boundaries, so what if it’s old school?”
“Why did I choose a career where thirty was old?”
“Because you didn’t expect to live that long,” he answered with an easy smile. “No, wait, that was me. You just thought you’d be young forever.”