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“What happened?” I ask, putting my mug down. I resist the urge to check her over. “Did he do something to you? Did he hurt you, Kat?”
The anger that burns through me is irrational, but it’s there all the same. The thought of anyone putting their hands on Kathleen is maddening for me even to imagine.
I would rip her landlord limb from limb if I found out he hurt her.
I already had to stop myself from hurting those assholes at the diner.
“He didn’t hurt me,” Kathleen says, letting out a long sigh. “He’s just a dick.”
“Most of them are,” I tell her, nodding and calming myself down a little.
“What’s your landlord like?” Kathleen asks me, and I lead her to the breakfast table next to the window. There are flowers there in a vase that Robin must have left for me. She sits down and looks good there as if she’s been there before.
“You’re looking at him,” I murmur, sitting back in my chair. My leg brushes hers. “My Uncle Peter owned this place too. He left it all to me in the will. It’s mine.”
Kathleen nearly chokes on her coffee. “You own anentireapartment building?”
“I do,” I nod, feeling a small burst of pride at her impressed expression. “If you need a place, I still have a few open. I wouldn’t charge you anything for them.”
This comes out of my mouth, but I want to say that I want her with me here. If she doesn’t want me the way I want her, if it’s not possible to have her at my side and in my bed, at the very least, I can feel comfortable knowing that she’s closer to me than before and hopefully safe from harm.
“Oh, Eddie, that’s too much,” Kathleen exclaims, covering her mouth with her hand. “For what feels like so long now, it’s just been Stevie and me.”
“You have someone in your corner now, Kat,” I remark, and I can’t help myself when I brush her hair behind her ear, letting my fingers caress her jawline. “You don’t have to be alone anymore if you don’t want to be. I’m here for you.”
Kathleen’s coffee cup makes a soft clattering sound when she puts it down on the table. She swallows hard, and I take a moment to admire the woman in front of me.
I feel protective over her, and I already feel as if she is mine to keep safe.
She is soft and curvy in all the right places—nothing like the dancers in the club. Yet, Kathleen has substance to her, something to hold onto for warmth and comfort.
Her green eyes have fire in them, and her plump lips are set in a frown.
Her round, soft cheekbones are highlighted sharply by the street lamps below the window. Her eyebrows, two shades darker than her pale hair, are pulled together.
Her luscious breasts move when she moves, and she has the most glorious ass along with sturdy killer thighs.
A man could get lost in her.
I can only hope.
This is the woman I see in my dreams, the face that lives in my mind without any sort of reserve or restraint.
Kathleen feels like a part of me, sitting across from my body like she hasn’t all but curled into my chest and made me warm where I hadn’t been before. I can see her in a white dress, beautiful and mine forever.
“I don’t know what to say,” Kathleen says, and her bottom lip trembles.
I can hear the soft snoring from the living room, and I know that her little brother is sleeping soundly now. Kids are so resilient. He didn’t even question anything.
“Hey,” I murmur, reaching out to wipe the tear from her cheek. “Come here, Kat.”
Without a word, Kathleen comes around and folds herself into my lap. The curves of her body fit perfectly against me, and she pushes her pretty face into my neck.
“I think it was the men from the club and the diner that broke into my apartment,” Kathleen says breathlessly. I can hear the terror in her voice. For all that, she acts as if she has everything under control; she is still so very young for her own life.
“Maybe it was a separate incident,” I tell her, though I really don’t believe it myself. “Maybe they aren’t related at all. Either way, you’re staying here for now.”
“One of the clocks had been knocked off the wall, and the time was stopped right after I left to bring you those brownies,” Kathleen’s arms wrap around my neck, and she smells like home to me. “There was a message. You saw it there.”
