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Even if she never really annoyed me. Not then. That shit didn’t start until college, and it was for way worse reasons.
Ones I’ve been trying to forget ever since.
It was easier before.
Before she grew up.
Before she lived with us.
Before I let myself watch her when no one else was looking.
“Come on, Caitlin. I need you to get out of the car.”
Caitlin refuses to open her eyes, but I know the little brat is awake. The drive home from West End is legit, five minutes. We could have walked it faster than it’s taking to get the drunk birthday girl home.
“Cait... Come on,” I groan through clenched teeth.
“I’m fine,” she mumbles. “Just leave me. I don’t wanna walk.”
“Maybe if you didn’t wear six-inch heels, you’d want to walk.” I get out and slam my door before rounding the truck to her side. Her pale skin is practically glowing under the fluorescent garage lights when I open her damn door. “Kitten...”
She doesn’t even bat an icy-blue eye at the nickname she despises.
“All right, up you go.” I scoop her up, and her eyes stay closed, but the troublemaker smiles and wraps her arms around my neck as I hip-check the door closed. “Hang on.”
“Hmmm...” she hums deep in her throat, content with having gotten her way, and I ignore the way my dick jumps in my jeans. Her soft hair tickles my face and envelopes me in her sexyscent. Vanilla, honey, and spice. I always thought it reminded me of bourbon. But it’s pure Caitlin as it wraps around me.
I ignore our ancient doorman as I walk through the lobby to the elevator.
“You really not gonna walk, kitten?” I press as I move us into the elevator, and her smile grows just enough for something deep inside me to fracture. She used to smile at me like that all the damn time.
“Am I too heavy, Callen? Not strong enough to carry me to our condo?” One eye cracks open as she giggles. “And stop calling mekitten.”
She scrunches her eye closed, and I lose the fight entirely.
My head thunks back against the elevator wall as I pray for patience until the doors open again on our floor. I adjust my hold on her and type in our key code, then walk into the kitchen.
“Here you go.” I sit her down on the counter. “Don’t move.”
Caitlin reaches out for me until I stop and hold her in place. “What are you doing?”
My normally prickly black cat looks soft and pliable and so damn good in front of me. “Taking care of you. Now lean back. Don’t move. And let me.”
I wait until she does as she’s told. “Good girl. Stay.”
“Make up your mind, Sinclair. Am I a dog or a cat?”
I look at her from the fridge and grab a water bottle.
Fucking gorgeous.
That’s what she is.
Fucking gorgeous trouble.
“Here. Take these.” I open a bottle of ibuprofen and pop two pills into her hand, then crack the water bottle. “Now swallow.”
Her eyes pop wide open. “Oh, I could swallow.”
