better at building things.”
“Come on, Chef Boyardee, I’ll buy you dinner before I take you to your motel.”
“You’ll buy me dinner?”
“Yeah, well, don’t get your hopes up too high. All you’re getting is mediocre pizza and cold beer.”
Kate gave him a dazzling smile. “A vast improvement. I’ll provide the stimulating conversation.”
Kate delivered, regaling him with colorful tales from her life. She claimed to be a homebody, but her body seemed to be everywhere but home. She traveled where her work took her, collecting stories along the way. Butch listened, encouraged her, drawing out the night as long as he could.
Their easy conversation ended when he pulled into the shit hole of a motel. An inferno waited to happen in the single-story building, where half-dead scrub brush grew from wide cracks in the pavement. Litter blew like tumbleweed across the fractured asphalt, and bruised and battered vehicles lay like corpses left after a battle.
He looked at the five-and-a-half foot tall, hundred-and-nothing pound woman who held her chin up as though they parked in front of a posh salon instead of this reject from the penal system.
“You’re not staying here, Katie.”
“I know it’s nasty, but there aren’t many options. Maybe my next project will be designing a nice hotel with crown moldings and pest-free carpet.”
She had to hate the roach motel. Butch couldn’t imagine anyone who spoke lovingly about his old farmhouse enjoying one moment in this joint. Just looking at it made his skin crawl.
She sat in the passenger seat, a sour look on her face quickly hidden with a shrug of her shoulders. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
Pride. Butch squeezed the steering wheel and shook his head. It had cost her a lot of pride to let him bring her here. “You’re coming back home with me.”
Kate blinked twice. “Home with you?”
“I have plenty of space.” Butch looked around. “It’s only a twenty-minute drive, and my house has everything.”
She sat still as a statue for a long moment. “Are you serious?”
Butch looked back at the Bates Motel. “Absolutely.”
In an instant, she erupted in full motion. “I’ll pay rent. I can fix things. I’ll do half the cooking.”
“You don’t have to pay rent. Hell, I don’t pay rent. And you are not cooking…ever. I don’t need you fixing things, either. I can hire somebody if I need to.”
Kate’s shoulders sagged, her hands fell into her lap, her gaze on her feet. All that life, all that energy vanished. “Then I can’t stay. I want to. I really, really do, but I have to earn my way. I can’t explain it. I just have to. Sorry.”
The respect Butch had for her grew ten times in that moment. Since he had “made it big,” too many people were too ready to let him pick up the bill. He’d gotten used to it along the way. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have surprised him that Kate would need to stand on her own.
“All right. I started a list for myself. I’ll appreciate any help you can give me. But just so we understand each other, you’re welcome without it.”
She snapped her face toward him. Her blues eyes wide and shining. “Thanks. Thank you.” She leaned into him and laid a shy kiss on his jaw.
Butch inhaled her scent as she leaned in close. Strawberries. She smelled like summer strawberries, and dear Lord, he was hungry.
“You’re welcome.” That soft kiss went all the way to his toes. He ran his hand up and down her smooth arm, soothing his need. “Let’s get your things.”
Kate unlocked the door with a little shimmying, opened it, and flipped on the lights.
“Holy shit! How long have you been living here?” Twenty bucks a night would have been too much for the dump of a room. Every piece of mismatched furniture was broken or dented, and the fluorescent light in the bathroom flickered like a bug zapper in July.
“About three months.” Kate stuffed files into a paper box. “Glamorous, isn’t
“Come on, Chef Boyardee, I’ll buy you dinner before I take you to your motel.”
“You’ll buy me dinner?”
“Yeah, well, don’t get your hopes up too high. All you’re getting is mediocre pizza and cold beer.”
Kate gave him a dazzling smile. “A vast improvement. I’ll provide the stimulating conversation.”
Kate delivered, regaling him with colorful tales from her life. She claimed to be a homebody, but her body seemed to be everywhere but home. She traveled where her work took her, collecting stories along the way. Butch listened, encouraged her, drawing out the night as long as he could.
Their easy conversation ended when he pulled into the shit hole of a motel. An inferno waited to happen in the single-story building, where half-dead scrub brush grew from wide cracks in the pavement. Litter blew like tumbleweed across the fractured asphalt, and bruised and battered vehicles lay like corpses left after a battle.
He looked at the five-and-a-half foot tall, hundred-and-nothing pound woman who held her chin up as though they parked in front of a posh salon instead of this reject from the penal system.
“You’re not staying here, Katie.”
“I know it’s nasty, but there aren’t many options. Maybe my next project will be designing a nice hotel with crown moldings and pest-free carpet.”
She had to hate the roach motel. Butch couldn’t imagine anyone who spoke lovingly about his old farmhouse enjoying one moment in this joint. Just looking at it made his skin crawl.
She sat in the passenger seat, a sour look on her face quickly hidden with a shrug of her shoulders. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
Pride. Butch squeezed the steering wheel and shook his head. It had cost her a lot of pride to let him bring her here. “You’re coming back home with me.”
Kate blinked twice. “Home with you?”
“I have plenty of space.” Butch looked around. “It’s only a twenty-minute drive, and my house has everything.”
She sat still as a statue for a long moment. “Are you serious?”
Butch looked back at the Bates Motel. “Absolutely.”
In an instant, she erupted in full motion. “I’ll pay rent. I can fix things. I’ll do half the cooking.”
“You don’t have to pay rent. Hell, I don’t pay rent. And you are not cooking…ever. I don’t need you fixing things, either. I can hire somebody if I need to.”
Kate’s shoulders sagged, her hands fell into her lap, her gaze on her feet. All that life, all that energy vanished. “Then I can’t stay. I want to. I really, really do, but I have to earn my way. I can’t explain it. I just have to. Sorry.”
The respect Butch had for her grew ten times in that moment. Since he had “made it big,” too many people were too ready to let him pick up the bill. He’d gotten used to it along the way. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have surprised him that Kate would need to stand on her own.
“All right. I started a list for myself. I’ll appreciate any help you can give me. But just so we understand each other, you’re welcome without it.”
She snapped her face toward him. Her blues eyes wide and shining. “Thanks. Thank you.” She leaned into him and laid a shy kiss on his jaw.
Butch inhaled her scent as she leaned in close. Strawberries. She smelled like summer strawberries, and dear Lord, he was hungry.
“You’re welcome.” That soft kiss went all the way to his toes. He ran his hand up and down her smooth arm, soothing his need. “Let’s get your things.”
Kate unlocked the door with a little shimmying, opened it, and flipped on the lights.
“Holy shit! How long have you been living here?” Twenty bucks a night would have been too much for the dump of a room. Every piece of mismatched furniture was broken or dented, and the fluorescent light in the bathroom flickered like a bug zapper in July.
“About three months.” Kate stuffed files into a paper box. “Glamorous, isn’t
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