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Barry embraced his James Bond-esque challenge and pulled the hood of my sweatshirt over my head as we got set to exit my house. Naomi stayed behind, declaring the need to straighten up the house before heading back to her own place. The hardest part of Carrie’s plan called for Naomi to keep her distance from me, just in case someone tied us together as friends and started following her to get to me. I’d panicked a bit when she covered that. I needed my friend. But, although I didn’t love that part of the plan, it made sense.
She hugged me at the front door. “We’re going to laugh at this soon. I promise. And I’ve got Barry’s number, so I’ll arrange regular cookie pickups. He told me I can pay him in cinnamon rolls and olive bread.”
“I’m easy,” Barry butted in.
I didn’t release Naomi for a long time, holding on as if my life depended on it. Held on tighter than I had the day she’d flown in on the redeye after I’d asked Steve for a divorce. And she let me cling a long time.
“Whatever you need, Catie. You know I’ve got you. Me and Sweet Cream. We’re here for you. But I don’t think you’ll be needing us. At least, not like before.” She patted my back, then pushed me away. “Go. Your man is waiting. And I don’t mean Barry.” She tossed him a smile. “Apologies, dude.”
He shrugged, then peered out the window. “Coast is clear. You ready?” He picked up my duffle bag.
I grabbed Frank’s carrier and the bag with his supplies. Naomi swung open the door and hurried to the SUV carrying a carton with Frank’s litter box and a bag of toys for him. She stashed it in the trunk, and Barry took the bag of supplies from me and tossed it in next to it. Then he threw my duffle in as well. I opened the rear passenger door and started to put Frank and his carrier in, but halted and burst out laughing.
“Barry, did you stop at every fast-food place between Bad Dog and here?” I secured the carrier on the seat next to a pizza box, a Whataburger bag, and monster-sized bucket of Hattie B’s fried chicken. I stowed the backpack with my laptop into the footwell behind the front passenger seat.
Barry blushed right up to his hairline. “I wanted to make it look authentic. In case anyone is staking out Mr. Wilder’s place. I’m supposed to be a delivery driver. Mr. Wilder put his confidence in me, and I mean to deliver.”
I understood that for real. I met his eyes through the car’s open doors and nodded. “Thanks. I mean it. You’re the best.”
After Naomi hugged me one last time, she rushed back inside the house, and I climbed into the front seat next to Barry.
The security detail Asher had sent over followed us as Barry drove slowly out of my neighborhood. “Mr. Wilder told me to call him as we approach the house. He’ll let us know if anyone’s staking out the front. If anyone is there, you’ll need to scooch down so they can’t see you.” He glanced at me, then refocused on the road. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“Thanks, Barry. I really appreciate it.”
“Anything to help out Mr. Wilder. He is the nicest superstar I’ve ever met.” He shook his leg, drawing my attention to his boots. “He gave me these boots because my sneakers had been ruined in the rain. My favorite pair of Converse shoes. But I love these boots better.”
I hadn’t heard that story from Callan, but from Carrie. It was nice, but what Barry had said about the gesture niggled at the back of my brain for most of the ride to Callan’s. Something familiar about it, beyond what Carrie had mentioned about it. But the harder I tried to latch onto it, the further it danced away.
The security car pulled to the side of the road when Barry pulled over to call when we were five minutes out, and sure enough, paparazzi were parked at his gate. “Sorry, Ms. Marlowe. You’re going to have to—”
“No worries. And since you are saving me, probably you should call me Catie.”
Barry waved the pace car forward and told them it was okay to peel off as I yanked my hoodie forward over my head and face. I slipped off the seat to crouch in the foot well of the SUV. Not the most comfortable place I’ve ever been in, but I knew I wouldn’t be there long.
Barry braked to a stop at Callan’s intercom and rolled down his window. In a very loud voice, he announced himself. “DoorDash. I have your order. Okay to come up?” While he waited for a reply, he hollered, “Hey, y’all need anything? I’m happy to run pick you up something. No? Hmm, your loss. Gonna suck if you have to leave your illegal stakeout here to go get food.”
The gate buzzed to signify it was opening. I pulled my body into a smaller knot in the footwell. Barry snorted, rolled up his window, then flipped off the photographers as if they’d just stiffed him for a delivery.
“What a bunch of assholes.” He kept his gaze trained on the drive as he pulled forward, then waited for the gate to close securely behind him before accelerating.
“You’re a natural at this clandestine stuff. Way to throw them off the opportunity to approach the car.” I lifted my head and tipped it side to side to work out the kinks that had set in from my unnatural position and the monstrous stress that had been gripping me. I grinned at Barry as he steered up the tree-lined drive.
He hummed the James Bond theme music as he eased to a stop by the front door.
I was laughing as I unfolded myself from the front seat. Callan rushed down the front steps and crushed me in his embrace.
Tension melted from my frame, leaving my bones liquid and wobbly as Callan tightened his hold on me. Without a second thought, I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on just as tightly.
Safe. There was no place I’d rather be than in the safety of his arms.
“I’ve got you.” He leaned back and cupped my face between his palm, his green-eyed gaze filled with concern as he searched my face.
I smiled tightly right before he kissed me, hard and grateful, before his lips slipped into a tender stroke on mine.
“How are you doing? Okay?” he demanded when he released my mouth. He kept his arms around me, his hips pressed to my belly, his thighs aligning with my hips.
Desire sparked through me, and I gripped his waist through the thin T-shirt he wore. “Better now,” I murmured.
