Page 8 of Waiting for Him
Her first attempt at a response disappeared with a huge yawn, and she covered her mouth. “Sorry. I hope so.” She began to pivot toward the doorway but stopped and looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears that didn’t fall. “I know me showing up out of the blue has shocked you, but thanks for helping me. I don’t have anyone else to turn to.”
Benny’s gaze turned into something from their youth, which she never expected, but only for a split second before becoming indifferent again. “No problem. It’s what I do,” he mumbled before turning away to take care of her plate, which was still in his hand. She hesitated, hoping he would say something more, but after a few moments, she sighed and left him alone.
Katerina had gone to bed four hours ago, but Boomer was still tossing and turning in his king-sized bed. As much as his body needed sleep, his brain wasn’t cooperating. Throwing off the covers, he got up for the eighth or ninth time and walked on stealth-like feet to the bedroom door across the hall from his. He had left the light on in the guest bathroom in the hallway in case she needed it in the middle of the night. Easing the bedroom door open, he was able to observe her in the dark room without the light shining directly on her. She was sound asleep facing him.
He studied her for the first time with a critical eye. Tiny had been right. She did look exhausted. And thin. Too thin. Her light brown hair had highlights he hadn’t noticed before, and he wished he could see her dark brown eyes again. Those eyes had haunted him for years. Her pouty pink lips made him yearn to kiss her awake, like Prince Charming and Snow White. He shook the ridiculous thought from his brain. Time and the military had changed him, and he was no longer worthy of the young woman she once was. He doubted he was worthy of the woman she’d become either—whoever she was.
Damn. She was more beautiful than he remembered, which was saying a lot. Although they were coming less and less frequently over the years, he still had dreams about her. About the one night she’d belonged to him and how incredible it had felt to kiss and touch her. He’d often debated the adage—was it better to have loved and lost or to never have loved at all? It was an argument he’d never settled in his mind.
Closing her door again, he headed out to his kitchen. Using the soft blue glow from his digital microwave clock to see, he located a bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey on the bottom shelf of his pantry. He thought about taking a swig straight from the bottle, but one would lead to another and then another. Despite Tiny watching his six, he knew he had to keep his wits about him in case someone figured out where Kat was. So instead, he grabbed a rocks glass from a cabinet, poured two ounces into it, and returned the bottle to its perch.
He sat in the seat he’d been in when she’d asked, “You never married?” He’d kept his eyes on his meal, but through his eyelashes, he’d watched her try to analyze his one-word response. No way would he explain to her why he would never get married. There’d been a thirty-six-hour timespan twelve years ago when she was the only woman he’d wanted to spend his life with. After she’d “died,” no other woman had ever captured his heart like she had. No other woman could hold a candle to his Kitten.
Damn it! He wasn’t going there with his personal pet name for her. She was “Kat” or Katerina, which was as familiar as he wanted to get with her again. He understood she had no say in leaving him, thinking she was dead, but the anger and heartbreak had long ago been embedded into his psyche. There had been many a night he’d cursed her for leaving him, the universe for taking her, and himself for loving her.
The team would figure out who was after her and why, and when she was safe, Boomer would send her on her way to wherever she wanted to go. Because there was no way he was putting his heart on the line again. He wouldn’t survive it this time when she realized the man he’d become.
He brought the glass to his lips and drank the brown liquor before he had more than a split second to compare the color to Kat’s eyes. The alcohol burned its way to his stomach, and he forced himself to put the glass in the dishwasher and head back to his bed. He had no idea how long he lay there until sleep finally overtook him, and he dreamed of her—his Kitten.
Chapter Five
Boomer awoke to the smell of coffee, and he glanced at the alarm clock next to his bed. Oh-eight-thirty. He sat up before the events of the prior evening assaulted him, and he groaned. It hadn’t been a dream. Kat was out in his kitchen, at this very moment, making coffee. Tossing his covers off, he got up, headed to the master bath, and took care of business. Then he grabbed a clean T-shirt and sweatpants from his dresser and put them on over the boxer briefs he’d slept in.
As he strode down the hallway, he noticed her bedroom door was shut, but it didn’t register in his mind before he entered the kitchen and stopped short. Fuck! How the hell could he have forgotten he had plans this morning? Easily. The excuse must still be asleep down the hall. Well, at least it was only his father standing in his kitchen.
He had driven up from Sarasota to go four-wheeling with Boomer today. Whoever was now keeping watch outside the condo, Jake or Devon, wouldn’t have stopped Rick Michaelson from entering. The man had the same training as their entire team with a few more years of experience, and was one of the few people outside of Trident Security he could trust with Katerina’s life. “Hi, Pop.”
His dad turned and stepped out of the way, allowing Boomer to shuffle forward and make his own cup of coffee. “Hey, you slept in late today. I take it we’re not going four-wheeling. Want to tell me what’s going on and why Reverend is watching your place?”
“Noticed him, huh?”
“Almost missed if you’re worried about it. Just happened to recognize his truck. Now, why is he there?”
He wasn’t worried that his father spotted Jake on surveillance. Like the rest of Boomer’s team, there was little his father missed. Being vigilant had been drilled into him and the others during their time as Navy SEALs. The younger Michaelson shrugged as he grabbed a mug from the cabinet above his Keurig and prepped the machine before hitting start.
He turned around and leaned against the counter while crossing his arms and ankles. “Something happened, Pop, and I have no idea how to sugarcoat it, so I’m just going to say it.”
Rick’s eyes narrowed, but he waited for his son, who’d paused to weigh his words, to continue. “I had an appointment with a new client scheduled for last night at the office. Boss-man was with me. Pop . . . Katerina Maier walked in the door.”
As Rick paled, his eyes grew wide, and he sat down in the closest chair, almost missing it and ending up on the floor. “Holy shit. How?”
Boomer grabbed his now-brewed mug of coffee and sat opposite the older man. “Two words—Witness Protection.”
He filled his dad in on the story she’d told them. He’d just finished when the lady in question came into the kitchen and stopped when she spotted the familiar face she hadn’t seen in twelve years.
Rick stood with his mouth open for a moment before he recovered. “Katerina . . . wow, it really is you. I mean, I knew Ben was telling me the truth, but it’s like seeing a ghost.”
Boomer watched as his dad did what he, himself, had yet to do. The older man opened his arms, and Kat walked right into them, letting him hug her. He couldn’t hear what Rick was saying to her in a low soothing voice, but he saw her nod her head a few times in silence. She was wearing a T-shirt and pajama pants, and both were too big on her. He would have to make sure she put back on some of the weight she must have recently lost. With everything going on, it didn’t surprise him, but one of the things a good Dom did was take care of his submissive’s safety and well-being.
Fuck! He had to stop thinking like a Dom and just be the operative and former SEAL he’d trained to be. She wasn’t his submissive. She was a woman from his past who needed his help. Nothing more. Yeah, jackass. Keep telling yourself that.
The embrace between the two lasted about a minute before they both stepped back. Kat blushed as she looked over at Boomer and then back to his dad. “Hi, Mr. Michaelson. You . . . uh, look great.”
Obviously, knowing the woman wasn’t sure what to say to him after all these years, Rick pulled out a chair for her. “I think you’re old enough to call me Rick if you want. And you’re a sight for sore eyes too. Let me get you a cup of coffee.”
She nodded and took the seat he offered. “Thanks, Mr. Mi—I mean, Rick. With a little milk, if Benny has some, please.”
He backed up, not taking his eyes off her until his butt hit the counter, and Boomer knew how he felt. It was as if they looked away, she would disappear. Finally, he turned to the coffee machine and prepared a mug for her. “So, where do we go from here? How do we keep Kat safe?”
