Safe house? He wasn’t taking her in?
There was a long silence on his end. Kate obviously had a lot to say. It must have been effective. By the end of the conversation, Scott had agreed to whatever she’d suggested even though he didn’t look happy about it. Swallowing nails about summed up his expression.
Natalie hoped she had a chance to meet Kate at some point; she could obviously teach Natalie a few things.
“Fine,” he said. “You win, but it won’t change anything.”
Another long silence while Kate talked.
“Yeah, I know.” He glanced over at Natalie, who was pretending not to be hanging on every word. “I’ve heard it before. But for the record so are you.” Natalie suspected he was talking about being stubborn—which she agreed with. “Fix this thing with Colt or don’t, but don’t let him hurt you again. I have enough problems right now without a homicide charge—even if it is justifiable.”
Natalie waited a few minutes after he hung up to ask if Kate was all right.
“I don’t know,” he said. “She sounded pretty wrung out.”
“Are she and her ex trying to patch things up?”
Scott shrugged. “Some things are beyond patching.”
Natalie sucked in her breath. Was he talking about them?
As there were no pointed looks, he didn’t seem to be. She relaxed—a little. “I thought you were taking me in.”
He shot her a chastising look as if she should know better. “I won’t risk it until we figure out what is going on.”
Natalie couldn’t believe he would do this for her. She tried to breathe evenly, but the sudden swelling in her chest had created a logjam for air. “Where are we going?”
His mouth tightened again, and she almost regretted asking. “Fort Knox until Kate can find someplace else.”
From his tone, she knew that was all he was going to say on the subject. “Get some sleep, Nat.”
“I’m not tired.”
But a few minutes later, her eyes closed.
• • •
Natalie woke as Scott was pulling out of the drive-through and back onto the highway. She was surprised that it was light out, and after a quick glance at the clock, even more surprised to see that it was almost eight in the morning. So much for not being tired.
But it was the smell emanating from the fast-food bag that was her biggest surprise.
“Doughnuts?” she said with only slightly exaggerated shock. “Surely fried rings of dough dipped in sugar aren’t part of the Scott Taylor dietary regime. What were you saying about filling your body with poison?”
He gave her a forbidding SEAL-officer frown. “They have surprisingly good coffee.” She let out a sound that showed how much she believed that. “And I got them for you.”
“Perfect,” she said, taking the bag and digging in. “These are delicious.”
He held out about a minute, which was pretty good given that they smelled like ambrosia (they tasted even better) and that she’d already eaten two in quick succession.
“Mostly for you.” He grabbed the bag from her before she could take another. “But I wouldn’t want you to get sick eating all that crap.”
“How thoughtful of you,” she said wryly, as he practically inhaled the last two.
He had sugar on the edge of his top lip when he smiled back at her. For a moment all she could think about was leaning over and kissing—licking—it off. She might have made a movement toward him before she collected herself.
She tried to cover her embarrassment. “It’s nice toknow you aren’t perfect and that Mr. Discipline has a few weaknesses.”
His mouth quirked. “Maybe one or two,” he conceded with a suggestive look at her that hinted at what the second might be. “But I’m pretty perfect otherwise.”
