Girl Gone Viral (Modern Love #2)(27)

He didn’t dare take off her socks. If removing her shoes made him feel vaguely guilty, he didn’t want to think how pervy he’d feel for stripping wool off her bare flesh.

He straightened and made for the door, but then did an about-face. Despite the warmth from the heater, it might get much colder up here than Katrina was used to. Jas stood above her and frowned. She was sleeping on top of the bedspread. How was he supposed to get her under it?

He envisioned multiple possibilities, but before he could act, her eyes opened and he froze.

“Jas,” she murmured, and the sleepy, hoarse word made his stomach drop. His name on her lips was always torture, but that husky bedroom tone was too much, especially when deployed in his bedroom.

He clenched his hands tight together so he wouldn’t be tempted to do something stupid, like stroke her hair and tell her everything was okay.

What is wrong with you?

He didn’t know, except maybe the fear for her peace of mind had discombobulated him so much he was no longer thinking clearly.

She closed her eyes again, which was good. He stumbled back to the door. His hand got to the doorknob before he mentally kicked himself.

The blanket.

He tiptoed back to the bed and grabbed the part of the cover she wasn’t on and folded it over her body, turning her into the filling of the world’s clumsiest taco.

Good enough.

He nearly ran out of the room when her lips parted. Maybe seeing a woman he had feelings for innocently sleeping in his old bed wouldn’t affect another man at all, but it was clearly making his brain cells seep through his ears.

He closed the door behind him and sighed in relief to be out of there. Don’t think about it. Move on. There was still work to be done.

First, Jas retrieved their bags from the car. They both had backpacks with their laptops and computer things. He had a small duffel and a bigger bag filled with security equipment. She’d packed a large roller suitcase, one he hadn’t seen in a long time, which made sense, since she hadn’t gone anywhere overnight in forever.

He grunted when he lifted her bag out of the trunk. He had no idea what was in it, but back when they’d traveled extensively with Hardeep, she always had carried a great deal of stuff. There had been bellhops then to handle the luggage.

He took their insulated bag of food into the kitchen and placed the few supplies they’d brought into the fridge, including a small jar that contained Katrina’s precious sourdough starter. That had been another thing that Katrina had always traveled with.

He carried the rest of the luggage upstairs and held his breath as he opened her bedroom door so it formed the smallest possible wedge. He shoved her suitcase inside like it was on fire, then closed the door quietly. He wasn’t getting stuck in that trap again.

He walked across the hall and tossed his duffel on the bed there. The room was bigger, comfy and cozy with older furnishings, but also devoid of any sign anyone had actually lived here. So, fine. He’d take the master and be okay with it. He supposed, technically, as the owner on the deed for this house, this was his room by right, even if it was weird to sleep in the room his grandparents had occupied.

He unzipped the second, larger bag. He took out the cameras and lined them up on the antique writing desk. His grandfather would grumble if he discovered Jas was drilling holes in the historic house, but again, it was Jas’s house. And they needed cameras. He’d install them around the perimeter once there was more light.

He gathered up some basic gadgets and headed downstairs. No alarm system, which he’d also have to figure out. For now he installed a simple doorstop at each door. The metal stick wedged under the doorknob wasn’t the most sophisticated way to keep intruders out, but it would be effective enough for warning him if someone was entering the place. At each window he attached a high-decibel alarm sensor that would shriek if it was opened or the glass was broken.

Did he actually think someone would hurt Katrina? Not really. He genuinely believed it would be difficult for anyone to get through all the digital roadblocks he had in place to protect her home address.

At the same time, he also understood her reaction. The potential threat of doxxing was scary enough for people who hadn’t been through what she had.

Jas shuddered, recalling the day of the incident. Her security had claimed they’d barely been a couple feet behind her. They’d heard a noise, glanced away for a second, maybe two, and she’d been gone. It had taken one whole harrowing day for the ransom call to come. Jas had been there a few days later for the handoff in the parking lot behind a deserted warehouse. Would he ever be able to forget the way Katrina had looked when she’d stumbled out of the van? Dirty, small, still in the now-torn clothes she’d been abducted in. Bleeding.

He shook his head. No, he’d been too far away to see the blood at first. It was only in his nightmares that he could see each drop of blood curving down her smooth cheek.

Hardeep had been told to stay away from the scene, lest he be targeted as well, so it had been Jas who had pulled her away while the cops swarmed, Jas who had held her hand in the ambulance, Jas who had stood by while a doctor stitched her cheek in the ER. It had taken her days to start speaking in anything but one-word sentences. Weeks for her to leave the house, and then only because Hardeep had gently browbeaten her into it, much to Jas’s disapproval, though he’d only aired that with his boss in private. In Punjabi, because, though Katrina was quick, she hadn’t picked up enough Punjabi to understand them when they spoke rapid-fire in their own language.