“How did you get up here?”

Dean stepped farther into the suite and looked around as if he were trying to figure out what she’d been doing. “I used to sneak up to your suite all the time.”

Like she could ever forget. “There’s no need to sneak any longer.”

“So who was that?”

Avoidance…she would have earned A’s in school if there had been a class. “Do you have my budget?”

“Is his name really Ben?”

She froze.

“Who names their kid Ben?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and let Dean make his own conclusions about Patrick. “What’s the matter, Dean, jealous?”

He turned on her like a snake coiled up and ready to strike. Whatever he wanted to say died on his lips. “Jack asked me to keep an eye on you while he’s away.”

“Jack isn’t in charge of me, Dean. We both know that.”

“You need someone watching out for you.”

“Now why do you think that?”

He looked up and down her body with a quick scan. “You look like you’ve not slept in days and, if I had to guess, you’ve lost weight since the wedding. And you don’t have any to spare, darlin’.”

She despised the fact he read her so well.

“Do you have my budget or what?”

Before he could answer, someone knocked on the door again.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Who is it now?” She swung on the door and ripped it open. “What?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Morrison. I was told to bring your dinner. I can come back.”

Good God, she was tired. Snapping at the staff wasn’t how she’d been raised and she was instantly sorry. Poor Manny looked like he wanted to crawl away. “Oh, no. Please forgive me. It’s been a long day. Bring it in here.” She opened the door wider and let the young waiter wheel the cart filled with silver-domed dishes into the room.

“Would you like it in the dining room?”

“That would be fine, Manny.” She’d grown used to eating over the sink at Monica’s, and shoving bites in between her shower and changing clothes at the hotel. This was the night Monica was going to stay with Savannah so Katie could convince the hotel staff that she actually slept there once in a while. It was all a ruse to keep anyone from asking questions about where she spent her nights.

Maybe it was a good thing Dean had shown up when he did. Him finding her at the hotel would ease any suspicions. Or so she hoped.

She walked around Dean, found her purse, and waited for the waiter to finish. He raised the lid off the salad she’d ordered and looked at her. “Shall I open these now?”

“That won’t be—”

“Salad? That’s all you’re eating?” Dean shoved in behind her and glared at her dinner.

“I like salad.”

“So do rabbits. Gaylord always has Texas prime beef on the menu, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yeah, so?”

Dean shrugged out of his jacket and placed it on the back of the chair. “How about two rib eyes, Manny, medium rare with baked potatoes filled with the works. We’ll start with the salad.”

“I don’t remember inviting you to stay.”

Manny kept moving his head back and forth, taking in their conversation.

“And yet I’m not going until I’ve seen you eat and know you’re not going to fall over the next time you’re at work. It’s bad enough you defy gravity with those damn shoes. You don’t need to add a lack of nutrition making you weak.”

She wanted to argue in the worst way but that took energy. The truth was, she could eat more than a salad and getting Dean to back off without a scene wouldn’t be easy. The sooner they ate, the sooner she could move him along.

“Miss Morrison?”

“Medium rare is fine with me,” she told Manny.

“And a couple of beers,” Dean called after the waiter.

Katie walked Manny out of the room and pressed ten dollars into his palm.

Eat dinner. Placate Dean. Go to sleep. That was her plan.

He wanted to ask. Lord knew it kept every ounce of his dignity not to question.

Ben? Who the hell?

Not to mention the man was far too old for Katie. Could be her father if Dean had to guess.

OK, maybe that was going too far, but the man was older than her by at least ten years, if not more.

Katie excused herself to her room and returned wearing a large pullover cotton shirt and Capri pants. Dean identified the outfit as “Katie casual,” the clothes she wore at the end of her day before she went to bed.

Very few people saw her in these clothes and even fewer saw her out of them.

The fact she changed while he was waiting for their steaks to arrive made him smile. At least they hadn’t lost that intimacy…not yet anyway.

Dean let Manny back in a short time later and tipped the kid before he left.

“I haven’t had a good steak since Texas. This smells amazing.”

Katie pushed in, sat at the small dinette, and uncovered her plate. “I thought you liked to grill.”

“When I’m camping. Haven’t done that in a while.” Dean sat across from her and removed the other lids over their food. A crush of pepper, garlic, and herbs arrested his senses as the aroma of the beef met his nose. His stomach rumbled and his mouth watered.

“Why not?”

“Why not what?”




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