A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(148)

“This is not over, Thomas,” Austin seethed. “You tell your client this isn’t over!”

“I will,” Ben remarked casually. “Oh, and by the way,” he said cheerfully, pulling the door open. He turned back. “You can keep those photographs and statements, Austin. I have copies.”





26


The clouds had rolled in dark and thunderous by the time Carter and Kat arrived back at the house. The pair of them ran and shouted, laughing curses when the heavens opened above them. A flash of lightning made Kat squeal when they finally made it inside, making Carter laugh. Kat flipped him off and started removing her soaked clothes while her hair dripped down her face.

Disappearing up the stairs to change, Carter followed her, once he’d lit the large fire in the living room, with worry in every step. She hadn’t been herself since they’d left the convention. Carter wasn’t the most knowledgeable man in terms of women’s moods, but something was definitely up.

He thought back, trying to remember when she’d become so quiet, distant. Was it what he’d told her about Max and his past? Was she upset about the whole introducing-her-as-a-“friend” thing?

With his eyes fixed on the bathroom door where she was changing, he pulled off his jeans and T-shirt, and, after he’d rubbed his head dry with a towel, settled for his trusty gray sweats and a dark blue NYPD hoodie. Oh, the irony.

Kat reappeared moments later and dropped her wet clothes into a bag. “Ben texted. The meeting went well. That stuff you gave him about Austin’s deals with Casari worked like a charm, he said.”

“Of course it did. Even Austin isn’t immune to a little blackmail.”


Kat shook her head and put her hands on her hips. Her face flushed with blatant annoyance. She looked hot as hell. “I can’t believe Beth tried to set me up with him. He’s far more of a criminal than you are, and then she has the audacity to talk shit about you and—”

“Hey.” Fuck that shit. Carter didn’t want to waste one more minute thinking about Austin Ford. “Kat, it’s done, okay?” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms.

“It makes me so mad.”

“I know. It makes me mad, too. But he’s not worth it.”

Kat huffed but nodded.

“So listen,” he continued. “I’ve lit the fire in the living room, and I have a grotesquely large selection of DVDs. How about we watch TV, get warm, and forget about that *, huh?”

Her smile was small. “That sounds good.”

Frowning, he wound his arms around her waist. “Is anything else bothering you?”

She buried her nose in his neck, hiding her face. “No.”

Carter wasn’t convinced. Nevertheless, he halted the desire to push her further. He didn’t like it, but what choice was there? He’d trusted her enough to open up; he had to be patient for her to do the same.

*

Back downstairs, Carter poured some red wine, while Kat stood by the glass doors watching the formidable clouds roll over the sea. The sky was pitch-black.

“I love listening to the rain when I’m nice and warm inside,” she said quietly as thunder rumbled above them.

Carter handed her a glass. “Me too,” he admitted, sipping his drink. “Gran and I would do that a lot here.”

“Yeah? Dad and I did, too.”

After grabbing a shitload of snacks from the kitchen, Kat took her seat on the sofa while Carter fought with the DVD player. Kat laughed when he held up the disc case to show her what they’d be watching. Beetlejuice.