That Day - Karen Deen (large ebook reader .TXT) 📗

got a boyfriend, and I got a girlfriend and her crazy dog. Not sure I negotiated as good a deal as you.”

“Sorry, package deal. And you should be grateful. That dog brought you to the girlfriend.”

“Fair point. Now be quiet, I’m trying to sleep. You talk too much.”

“Oh my god. Shut up, Kurt. Slllleeeeeppppp. Get it?”

“You’ll be getting it shortly if you don’t stop talking.” His voice tells me there is no way he is going back to sleep now.

“You’re ridiculous!”

His hand lifts my chin so he can see my face. “You know we aren’t going back to sleep, right?” Mischief is written all over his face.

“No shit!” I grumble, pretending to complain but secretly loving that he can’t keep his hands off me.

His hands are already wandering over my body, his mouth getting closer, but before he kisses me, I get one last remark in.

“See? She wasn’t cock-blocking you, Coco was doing you a favor. Seems to me she’s pretty good at this wingman gig.”

“True, now shh.”

His lips take mine, and again, I’m lost in Kurt.

Silence is golden.

Falling into a daily routine with Kurt is easy.

While he surfs in the morning, I walk Coco and then sit for a while watching him, before heading home to get breakfast for us both.

Once we’ve eaten, he’s off to work and I start the day writing, which has been easy this week. It’s like he has unleashed this passion in my heart that wants to be on every page—which isn’t practical, because not every day in the story can be like paradise. Reality is not like that.

Before I start the day getting lost in my book, I always write in my Kurt journal.

My words of happiness, fear, and the naughty thoughts he makes me have. I know he would love to know what I’m thinking, but I just can’t tell him everything. It gives away my other life that he can never know.

It’s like I can compartmentalize except when it comes to him.

Kurt might be in the Asha box at the moment, but I love to write of how I picture him in my other lives. Before the murders, now in the present, and how I see him in my life after this is all over. Not that I even know what that life is going to be like.

Will I always be Asha and on the run from trouble?

Or do I get to go back to my Jenna life and pick up where I left off?

See my parents again and hug them like I’ve longed to do for four years.

Take Kurt to meet them, and we all live happily after, with no fear whatsoever. I doubt that’s possible, but stranger things have happened.

The week has gone so quickly that it’s already Friday afternoon and I’m so far behind on my word count. I need to deliver the sad news to Kurt; I have to keep working tonight.

Well, so I’m telling him, anyway.

The truth is Davina and Scott are coming later because they have some things that need discussing. She wouldn’t tell me over the phone which always makes me nervous.

I know the trial is getting closer, but they did tell me I would get plenty of warning, so I can prepare myself for another life-altering day.

Like I haven’t had enough of those already!

Chapter Eleven

KURT

“Maybe I can come over and give you some inspiration for your writing?”

“Kurt! I have to work. I’m sorry, but if I don’t make this deadline, then I’m dead.”

God, I wish she wouldn’t say those words. I know she’s joking, but it sends chills through my body.

“I’ll miss you in my bed. I’ve gotten used to sleeping next to you every night. Although I’m not sure I’ll miss Coco and her wet nose, but it’s worth it to wake up with you.” The truth is I have slept better in the last week than I have in the last three years since I walked away from WITSEC. That last job almost ended me, and most nights it still haunts me. Yet there is something about Asha that keeps my mind away from it all.

“I know. I’ll miss you too. It’s like sleeping with a big teddy bear, my body surrounded by you.” I can hear the sadness in her voice. “Can I call you when I get into bed tonight? I know it might be late, is that okay?”

“You can call me anytime of the day or night. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Silence stretches for a few seconds, then a sigh that I’m not sure she meant me to hear.

“Asha, are you okay?” It’s harder to gauge someone’s mood over a phone call, but I know something isn’t sitting right with her.

“Yeah, just anxious about tonight.”

“About what, getting all your words written?” I know it’s more than that, but I’m not sure what.

“Oh, yeah, that’s what it is. Just a work thing. Sorry. Anyway, I better go. I have lots to do, and you need to get back to work. I’ll call you later.”

“Or earlier if you need to. I meant what I said, call me whenever. Plus, I’m going to be working tonight too on some plans for the next job. So, when you look out the window, you’ll see my light on and know you’re not alone.” I know that even if I get tired tonight, I’ll be leaving that light on so she thinks I’m still up and will call me without worrying that she’s disturbing me.

“Thank you. Talk soon.”

“Bye.” Ending the call, I have a gut feeling that something isn’t right.

It’s part of the reason I left the job. The rollercoaster of emotions isn’t something you can describe to anyone. It’s an adrenaline rush of highs and lows, along with the mental and physical toll it takes on your body. The things I’ve seen and done over the years will haunt my dreams until I’m old and gray, I imagine.

“You slacking off on the job here, Son?” My dad’s booming voice