Challenging the Center (Santa Fe Bobcats #6)(81)

Her eyes teared up, and she blinked furiously to keep from ruining the makeup the woman had spent twenty minutes on, in an effort to look fresh and na?ve. Frankly, she thought that looking fresh and na?ve would have required less makeup, but she wasn’t the professional in that regard.

“Okay.” The man Michael had introduced as Simon, the brainchild behind the video, clapped his hands. “We’re doing this in one take, and remember, ad-libbing is fine, but don’t ramble. We want this to be under ninety seconds. Stats currently show past that time frame, people drop off. We want it to be seen. Stick close to the script, but work on making it feel candid.”

Kat felt like a bobblehead with her nodding so much. Michael just stroked her back and gave one decisive nod of his own.

Suddenly she realized just how much trouble he was going through to be with her. To fight against the past she’d suffered through, and the reputation she’d created willfully. And she knew she couldn’t let another minute pass without telling him.

“And… action.”

She turned to him, just as he took a breath to speak his opening line, she said, “I love you.”

That took the wind out of him, and he turned sharply toward her. “What?”

“Okay, cut.” Simon snorted in disgust. “Five minutes, everyone. Five,” he emphasized toward them on the bed, waving everyone toward the hallway. The door closed behind them.

And Michael asked again, “What?”

“I just…” She could dance on a bar top, karaoke with the world watching, and do a samba with a bobcat… but she couldn’t look him in the eye for all the gold in the national Treasury. Picking at the bedspread, she said, “I had to tell you before we started the video. I love you.”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in, not caring that their clothes were wrinkling, that her fresh, na?ve makeup was probably smearing over his shirt, that the bedspread was going to look like they’d invited a party of monkeys to roll around on it.

“Thank God,” he breathed by her ear. “I love you too.”

“I know. You told me,” she said, trying to lighten the mood, but his arms just tightened around her. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier. It just felt weird over the phone, and I needed to see you first.”

“I get it. I sort of blurted it out before, didn’t I?”

“I won’t complain. Well, maybe a little,” she added, feeling her lips quirk up on their own. His smile was one of chagrin. “But only when I’m being annoying.”

“Which is often.”

“It’s part of my charm,” she argued.

“Probably. I must be nuts, wanting to be saddled with you,” he murmured.

“How did this happen so fast?” she asked quietly. “Three weeks…”

“Lightning hits fast, babe. When it does…” He blew out a breath. “I think love at first sight is a little bogus. But love at first meeting… there’s something to it. I should have known I loved you the first minute I missed your irritating presence.”

She leaned out and nipped his lower lip for the pseudo-insult. He prodded at the hurt with his tongue, one brow raised in silent, mocking disapproval.

“You love it.”

“I love you,” he corrected, kissing her. “I don’t care how fast this happened. I care how long it’s going to last. And baby, this is going the distance.”

His forehead dropped to hers. Their eyes both closed… then hers popped open again.

“That… that wasn’t a… You’re not…”

“Proposing? Hell no. I’m not Josiah. I’m not proposing to my girl in some generic hotel room. Screw that.”

She laughed, as that was a story she definitely hadn’t heard before. “You’ll have to fill me in on that one later.”

“Will do.” A knock sounded at the door, wordlessly reminding them about the time. “And the cavalry wants back in. You ready to do this?”

Kat wiped under her eyes and grimaced when she noticed the black smears that coated her fingers. “Yeah, I’m gonna have to fix this. I doubt a fresh, na?ve sort of girl would have raccoon eyes.” A glance at Michael’s shirt made her wince. “And you’ll need to change.”

Michael sighed dramatically. “Simon’s gonna have a fit.”

They both laughed, then kissed again before the pounding on the door forced them apart.



Two weeks after their impromptu videotaping in Los Angeles, Kat sat in her apartment, packing her tennis bag.

“How is it,” Michael wondered out loud as she searched in another half-open box for a new pair of workout shorts, “that you managed to get your things here, all your things, and you still have nothing to wear? Is this a female thing?”

“Hush, you.” She swatted at him as she flipped through the next box of clothes. She’d flown back to Florida to pack her apartment, sell her car and the biggest pieces of furniture, and arrange for the things she wanted to take with her to be shipped to her apartment in Santa Fe. She’d taken over the lease on the next door apartment from Sawyer—no longer her agent, which felt odd—and had been shocked when her things had arrived three days early. Boxes sat stacked everywhere around her apartment. She hadn’t been prepared.