Page 29 of Herding Cat

He chuckled and rolled back, although she wasn’t done cataloging his wounds. “I’m lucky.”

Lucky?

Obviously her expression spoke for her. He pulled her back down and kissed her. “The bad guys never hit a vital organ. Well, once, but you can live with one kidney.”

“One kidney?” A squeak.

“Mmm hmm.”

“Garrett, why do you do this to yourself?”

“It’s my job, Cat. It’s what I do.”

“Have you ever thought about doing anything else?”

“Like what?” The way he said it, you’d think there was nothing else he could do.

“I don’t know.” She didn’t know enough about him to make a suggestion. “Something less...dangerous?”

His laugh was a bark. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Don’t you want more from life?”

“Such as?”

“I don’t know.” Again, she didn’t know him well enough to say it. But then, she did anyway. And she had no idea why she asked. “Get married? Have a family?”

“My job doesn’t preclude marriage.” A strange light burned in his eyes. “Lots of my buddies have families.”

She crossed her arms. She didn’t know why this prospect annoyed her so much—she wasn’t planning to marry him after all—but it made her burn. “How unfair is it for you to live on the edge...and to take her with you?” God, how horrible would it be to be married to a man determined to put himself in harm’s way on a daily basis?

“Her?”

“Your wife...to be.” She said through the bitterness in her mouth.

“Well, I wouldn’t bring her with me.” He batted his lashes.

That was another irritating thing. The batted lashes for sure, but the thought of being married to a man who went away for months at a time with no contact. Without knowing if he was dead or alive. Or in danger. Or in someone else’s bed.

“I would never marry a man with a job like yours.”

She had no idea why he seemed suddenly wounded. He covered it quickly though, and said softly, “I shall keep that in mind.”

A red tide rose on her cheeks; mortification swamped her. She had no right to judge him. She settled back down on his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I respect your honesty. And to be fair, this isn’t a job one can ride into old age. I should be thinking about the future. And to be honest, the thought of a wife and children in my life does seem...”

“What?”

He met her eyes. His gaze bored into them. “Perfect. If she was the right woman, of course.”

“Of course.” She cleared her throat. She had no idea why she asked—it was none of her business—but she couldn’t stop the question. “What kind of woman would be the right woman?”

He pulled her closer and grinned. “She would have soft skin, for one thing.”

She grunted and pulled away. “I’m serious.”

“So am I. And she would be smart and funny and maybe a little bit stubborn.”