Page 34 of Chasing Kaylee Kringle

“Yes, but I schedule my appointments so I don’t have to drive back and forth every day.”

Josie didn’t share her specialty, and Rick didn’t ask, which surprised Kaylee, considering what a buttinsky he’d been since the moment she met him. Kaylee knew Josie had chosen to keep her work private because some people didn’t understand what a professional cuddler did. She’d told Kaylee once over dinner that her family thought she was a prostitute and didn’t speak to her anymore, which she considered good riddance, since they were toxic anyway. They’d moved to Utah before she came back from college and Josie lived under the rule that if someone didn’t like her job, they could shove it.

Being away from family was something the two of them had bonded over, but while Kaylee did it for safety, Josie’s decision was made for her.

They reached their respective houses, and Josie gave her a hug, whispering in her ear, “I think he likes you.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Kaylee murmured. “He just needed a place to crash. Believe me, I’m not his type.”

“Are you sure?” Josie pulled away, grinning, and adding loudly, “Maybe he’s into introverted sci-fi romance girlies with creepy pets? I mean, you can’t tell me he’s not hot.”

Kaylee reminded herself that choking one’s friends was illegal. Before she could fully contemplate her choices in revenge, Josie kissed Curtis’s cheek and said a hurried good night before rushing up the stairs.

Huh. Maybe she didn’t like Curtis after all.

Curtis stood awkwardly for a moment before putting on a cheerful expression. “Well, good night, you two. Rick, where are you staying?”

“With Kaylee,” he said at the same time she blurted, “At the inn!”

“Oh!” Curtis cleared his throat. “I’ll see you around, then.”

Curtis took off toward his house, which was around the corner on Labor Day Street.

Kaylee shook her head, climbing up the steps to her house to unlock the door, seething.

“How come you didn’t decorate your yard?” Rick asked, stopping her from going inside. She paused, her gaze traveling over her bare grass and dark entryway.

“I’m a lowly barista. I can’t afford the six-hundred-dollar electric bill.”

When she pushed open the door, he tried to follow her inside, but she blocked his way, facing him with her hands on her hips.

“You know, there is such a thing as discretion. I don’t need the town gossiping about me, wondering if we’re sleeping together.”

“Who cares if they are?” he asked, leaning against the iron railing that bordered each side of her concrete steps. “You’re a grown, single woman.” His face split into a cocky grin. “I guess if you came back with me to California, you wouldn’t have to worry about what the people of Holiday think about you and your friend from college.”

Her temper snapped like a rubber band, and suddenly, Kaylee was jamming her finger into his chest.

“I am sick of your intimidation and bullying tactics.” He caught her finger in his hand, and she glared at him, wishing she had the muscles to pick him up and heave him into the grass. “You think if you disrupt my life and push me enough, that I’ll give in, but I want to fucking live! I am happy here, and I would kindly appreciate it if you would just leave me alone.”

Rick gripped her hand, and Kaylee tried to pull away, to escape into the house and lock the door behind her, leaving him out here, but he wouldn’t release her, his dark eyes boring into hers. “This isn’t living, Kaylee. You can’t live with this following you around like a storm. You can’t have a friend, or a career, or a family, because the minute that you get comfortable, you’re going to have to move on. The only way you will ever be free, be safe, is if you confront the people responsible and make them pay for what they did to Elasia.”

Tears blurred her vision, and a sob escaped her before she could catch it. He used his grip on her hand to pull her into his body, and she let him, the dam breaking as she cried into the front of his sweater. Rick released her hand and wrapped both arms around her, the strength of his grip like steel against her lower back. She curled her hands into his front, feeling his chest muscles under his clothes, and even though he was a problem, her problem, Kaylee took comfort in his embrace. It had been so long since she’d been held, touched. Being on guard all the time, keeping people at a distance, it was exhausting, and her body went slack as all the anxiety that had kept her on edge the last few years slipped from her body like the tears streaming down her face, absorbing into Rick’s sweater, into him. Like he was taking it all from her.

Kaylee suddenly jerked away from him, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” he said, bending down, and before she knew it, he was carrying her up the stairs. She should be bucking and punching, anything to get away from him, but when he kicked the door shut behind them, Kaylee didn’t have the strength to fight anymore. She rested her cheek against his chest, listening to the sound of his racing heart as he carried her to the couch and sat down with her in his lap.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Kaylee. You’ve been running so hard, you haven’t taken the time to grieve. To process. You’re still in flight mode.” His lips brushed her forehead in a brief kiss, and she closed her eyes. “Stop flying, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

Chapter Eighteen

Rick

God, she smelled incredible.

Rick’s arms gripped Kaylee to him, his mouth pressed against the top of her head, and he tried not to think about the curve of her ass nestled against his cock, which was straining against the front of his jeans. Comforting women wasn’t part of his job description, but Kaylee’s pain called to him, her sobs drawing him in, and he couldn’t resist holding her. He needed to show her that she was always safe with him. That, as angry and frustrated as he might be with her, he would never let anyone harm her.

A rhythmic thumping from the cage to his right distracted him, and when Rick glanced over at the guinea pig, it was lunging forward. Rapid chattering and a high-pitched whine erupted from it, like an engine whirring when someone pressed the gas and the brake at the same time.