Touch Me (You & Me 2)

He grabbed her hand and together they walked into the cool, fall day that waited for them. He saw the black town car and headed for it. He paused before opening the door and turned to look at her.

“I don’t want to assume anything here, but would you like to go home with me?” he asked.

She smiled. “Yes, please.”

He opened the car door and she climbed right in. He knew he smelled horrible, but she didn’t seem to mind, she snuggled against him anyway. His arm went around her, protecting her always. Neither of them talked as the driver silently drove them out to his place. When they passed through the gates of his home, he had never been so glad to see his sprawling property. He exited the car and extended his hand to help Katherine out.

Together, they walked inside. He headed straight for his kitchen. He needed a drink after the last twenty-four hours.

“Wine?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’ll have some of that,” she said, nodding to the bottle of scotch he had pulled out.

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“It’s been a hell of a day.”

He grinned. “I agree.”

He poured them each a glass and handed it to her.

“I’m—”

He cut her off. “Don’t say it. Don’t be sorry. You are the only one in this whole equation who did nothing wrong.”

“But—”

He shook his head. “Don’t. It was my choice.”

She nodded her head. “Okay, but for what it’s worth, I am sorry to have put you in the position to make that decision,” she blurted out before he could stop her.

He took a long drink of the scotch, realizing a little too late he had an empty stomach. “Sweetheart, I would love to argue with you about the blame and all that, but I need to shower and eat something, probably not in that order, but that’s what I’m going to do. Once I’ve done that, we’re going to have a long talk about what we do next. Okay?”

She nodded her head. “Shower. I’ll make something for dinner.”

“Just order in,” he said, reaching for his wallet and pulling out his black credit card and setting it on the counter.

“Babe, I can make you something,” she said.

Hearing her call him babe was worth the twenty-four hours in jail. He walked towards her, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

“You can cook for me tomorrow. Right now, I’m starving. I want a damn buffet waiting for me when I get out. I don’t care what it is, but I want it ready. I know you’re a damn good cook and you better believe I’m going to take you up on your offer, but for tonight, let’s order in. You’re exhausted. I’m exhausted, and I have no idea if there is even any food in the house.”

She grinned and nodded her head. “Thank goodness. I was really not looking forward to trying to cook a meal in thirty minutes.”

He chuckled, slapped her ass and left her in the kitchen to do the ordering. He hadn’t been joking when he said he wanted a feast. He was already thinking about the food that would be waiting for him after he scrubbed off the stench of the jail.

The moment he stepped into his large shower with all the jets on their highest spray, he knew it had been a worthy investment. He put one palm on the tile wall for support and hung his head, letting the spray scrub him clean. He was so exhausted he didn’t have the energy to lather up. After spending a good fifteen minutes half-sleeping as he stood under the hot spray, he managed to soap up and rinse before washing his hair. When he stepped out of the shower, he pulled on a pair of boxers and sweats, not bothering with a shirt.

When he opened his bedroom door, he was immediately blessed with a combination of smells wafting up from below. He smelled pizza and Chinese. Hell, he could smell something else that smelled an awfully lot like fried chicken. By the time he descended the stairs, he was ravenous. He walked into the empty kitchen and saw the spread on the counter but no sign of Katherine.

“Katherine?” he called out.

He heard the murmur of voices and bolted out of the kitchen, automatically assuming the worst. He raced for the front foyer, prepared to fight for her life once again. He rounded the corner, sliding across the smooth marble tile in his bare feet to find Katherine closing the door, a big brown bag in her hand.

“Thank god,” he mumbled.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.