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After I carry my cup to the counter and refresh it, I slip Cat’s in the microwave to rewarm. I leave it on the counter where she’ll see it, along with the stack of papers, and take my cup out to the back porch. Taking a seat on one of the loungers, I prop my feet on the railing and gaze off into the woods and the high mountains beyond them.
Tennessee is beautiful this time of year. It’s the start of fall, so the leaves are just starting to change into deep oranges, lush reds, and bright yellows. It won’t be long until the trees are bare and the chill becomes bitter.
The door behind me opens, and a second later, Cat steps beside my chair with her own coffee cup. Dropping my legs from the rail, I grab her cup and set it on the table between the chairs before she can take the seat beside me. Wrapping my hands around her waist, I pull her down on my lap.
She laughs lightly as she settles herself sideways. Her arm circles my shoulders and she drops her lips to mine, exactly what I wanted.
“Morning, gorgeous,” I rumble against her lips.
“Morning.”
I lay my arm across her lap and my hand moves to the back of her upper thigh, right below her ass.
“Presley was here?” she asks.
“Yeah. She left a few minutes ago.” I press a kiss against the side of her head, then hand her her cup of coffee. “Any plans for the day?”
“Catch up on work. Darren is hounding me about the first draft.”
Cat is a fictional thriller author. As a child, she dreamed of becoming a writer, and with the encouragement of her parents, she sold her first manuscript to a publishing house before she graduated from high school. Within weeks of its release, it topped the charts, much to Cat’s and her parents’ surprise. In the years since then, she has written and published nine bestselling books.
“You still have a month before your deadline hits, right?”
“Yeah,” she sighs, lifting her cup to her lips. “It’ll be close, but I’m confident I can finish in time.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Unless you can make the voices in my head cooperate, there’s nothing anyone can do.” She takes another sip of her coffee before balancing the cup on her knee.
“I’m sure you’ll whip them into shape in no time,” I tell her. “How are you feeling this morning?”
My eyes are drawn to her hands as they tighten around her cup. Bringing up her nightmares isn’t something I like to do, but I need to reassure myself that she’s okay. I hate that she’s still having them, and I hate even more that I can’t make them go away. With all the power I have at my fingertips, not being able to help my wife makes me feel fucking powerless.
As a line forms between her brows, she answers quietly, her gaze drifting to the backyard. “What time are you leaving this morning?” she asks, changing the subject. It’s nothing new for her to avoid talking about her nightmares. I always let her because I know how much they get to her. But I watch her eyes to make sure she’s not concealing some emotion. For now, they appear clear.
Lifting my arm, I check my watch. “In about five minutes.” Grabbing her chin, I turn her head so I have access to her lips. After dropping a lingering kiss on them, I pull away. “Which means, I should get going now before I decide to blow off work today.”
She laughs. “Okay.”
I help her up from my lap, but before I grab my coffee cup, I drag her into my arms for a more heated kiss. Reluctantly, and with a deep groan, I retreat. My cock throbs beneath the fly of my slacks, making me wish I had an extra hour so I could carry Cat back to our bed and slide into the warm depths of her pussy.
Keeping her arms loosely wrapped around my shoulders, her fingers play with the hair on the back of my neck. She tips her head back to look at me. The sensual curve of her lips and the desire in her beautiful blue eyes do nothing to lessen my desire for her. “Behave, Mr. St. James, orI’llbe the one keeping you from work.”
My molars grind, and I will my wayward dick to behave.
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble, dropping my head for another brief kiss before letting her go.
She follows me to the kitchen, where I rinse then place my cup in the dishwasher. I grab my wallet, phone, and keys from the kitchen island.
“Don’t forget we have dinner plans with my parents tonight,” she reminds me. Depositing her cup on the counter, she walks me to the front door. “And don’t forget to pick up wine on your way home.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I turn to her with a grin once I’m at the door. Rolling to her toes, she gives me one last kiss before stepping back. “Love you.”
“Love you back.”
When the door closes behind me, I wait for the lock to click and the alarm to sound before making my way to my SUV. Every time I leave Cat at home, I listen for those two things. It’s a habit I’ve developed over the years, and I don’t intend to change it. Leaving her at home alone is already difficult. There’s not a chance in hell I would without those precautions.
