Page 184 of Unruly

Cross smirked. “Not even.”

She should have trusted his judgement. They were called at eleven.

Cece punched a boy right in the throat after he pulled her hair. And she did it with a smile, apparently.

Five months later …

Catherine shrugged her coat off in the hallway, and kicked the sky-high Prada heels aside. The house was strangely quiet, but she didn’t think much of it. She hadn’t been home since dropping Cece off to school that morning, and it was closing in on noon. Nazio would likely be napping.

So why did she smell peanut butter?

“Cross?” Catherine called.

“Kitchen, babe.”

She found her husband loading dishes into the dishwasher. Nazio was nowhere to be seen.

“How did that meet with Miguel go?” Cross asked as she passed him a plastic cup.

“Good. We’ve got things under control. The girls are satisfied.”

“Business good?”

Catherine smirked. “Very good.”

“How good?”

“You’re such a numbers man.”

Her husband straightened to his full height with one of his sinful smirks. Leaning over the open door of the dishwasher, he gave her a quick kiss and said, “Good numbers, babe.”

“Same thing.”

“Good numbers get me hot.”

“Mmhmm.” Catherine tapped his cheek with her ring covered fingers. “The numbers were very good this month.”

Cross nodded. “That’s great. In case nobody tells you, Catty, you’re kickass at what you do.”

“Am I?”

She knew she was.

She liked it when he told her, though.

For the most part, they kept business out of their house and marriage. He did his thing. She did hers. Life gave them plenty of other nonsense to bicker and work out. Business was not ever going to be one of them.

“Crazy good,” he told her. “And that gets me hot, too.”

Catherine laughed, and pushed away from the counter. “You’re something else.”

“Help me get little man down to bed, and I’ll show you something else, babe.”

She bet he would.

She couldn’t wait.

Also …