Page 47 of Operation Annulment
I open my mouth to reply just as Kate walks in. Her hair is piled upon her head, and she’s wearing a baggy sweatshirt that’s slipped off one shoulder. In a word, she looks amazing.
Her face lights up when she sees me, and she comes over and wraps her arms around my waist.
All my frustration from seeing Dakota and dealing with Jess evaporates.
Kate stands up on her tiptoes and presses her lips against mine. I’m sure she meant it as a peck, but I lock my arms around her back and devour her.
The sound of a throat clearing pulls us apart. Garrett’s now got his feet propped up on the table. “So, now that you’re home. How’d you end up married without any of us knowing about it?”
Kate reluctantly lets go of my t-shirt. “I’m just going to get you a plate. I’ll let you two catch up.”
I swipe his feet off the table and sit down across from him. “We went to Vegas—it was a small ceremony. I did the ‘big wedding shit’ before. It was nice just to have something low-key.”
Garrett shakes his head. “Really? Has she been married before? Because I don’t know a lot of women that would be okay with that.”
“She’s fine with it.”
He glances toward the kitchen before turning his attention back to me. “Look, cut the shit. Kate seems like a great person. She makes a lasagna that could compete with Mom’s and that rack?—”
I stand up so quickly that my chair crashes into the wall. I grab Garrett by the collar of his button-down shirt, yanking him across the table toward me. “Do not finish that sentence.”
I release him, and he sits back down, rubbing at his throat. “Jesus, Nate. Calm the fuck down. I was going to say that the rack in your oven was sparkling clean. Not a drop of lasagna was spilled. See? You freaked out for nothing.”
I rub my hands on my pants, feeling like a prick. I’m usually an easy-going guy, for the most part. I don’t know what it is about her that turns me into this. “Sorry, Gar?—”
He cuts me off. “Apology accepted. And I just want you to know that, given the chance, I’d motorboat the shit out of your wife’s tits.”
He’s out of his chair and in the kitchen with her before I can react.
I’m going to murder him.
Kate comes back in with a plate of lasagna and salad and a big grin on her face. “Is everything okay? You look upset. Did you have a bad day at work?”
I shake my head. “I’m fine. Just tired…” I trail off as Garrett strolls back in and drapes his arm around Kate, his fingers moving dangerously close to being snapped in half by me.
He’s doing this because he’s pissed that I got married behind his back. I get it. I do. It doesn’t change how I’ll react if his fingers slip any lower, though.
I tap my fingers against my leg. “Babe, come sit with me; tell me about your day.”
She slides onto my lap and turns her face toward me. “It was great. Most of my patients want my advice, making me feel like I’m making a difference.” She shifts to get comfortable, and I’m suddenly rethinking having her sit on me as her ass brushes against the front of my jeans.
Garrett sits down across from her. “Do you have some that don’t want help? Why would they bother showing up?”
She leans forward. “Well, believe it or not, some people treat therapy as a dress rehearsal.”
I take a bite of the lasagna and Garrett was right, Kate can cook. This might even be better than my mom’s cooking—not that I would ever tell her that.
He wrinkles his brow. “What does that mean?”
She laughs. “It means that some people are sociopaths. They are incapable of feeling empathy for others. They learn how to react appropriately by mimicking the behavior of those around them. Some of my patients will use our time together as a confession—looking for my reaction. If I react in a way they deem appropriate, they’ll probably use it on someone else. I also have patients who tell me nothing but lies.”
Garrett shakes his head. “That’s bizarre. God, what I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall. I bet you’ve got some good stories.”
I like observing Kate like this. I can see her passion for her job in how her face lights up as she discusses it. Without thinking, I press a light kiss against her shoulder. “What do you say, babe? Do you have any crazy stories you can share with us?”
She blushes and bites the corner of her lip as she mulls it over. “Okay. I’ve got this one patient. We’ll call her Carmen. She became obsessed with her best friend’s husband, stalking him to learn his habits. She used her friendship to gather intel, and then she drove a wedge between the two of them?—”
Garrett chuckles and takes a sip from his water bottle. “God, that sounds like your ex, Nate.”
