Page 198 of Always: A Legacy Novel

“Principe,” Rick said.

Cross pinched the bridge of his nose. “Morning, Skip.”

“You busy today?”

Not currently.

He was looking forward to a quiet morning, hopefully with Catherine, as it was the end of August, and she was starting her first year of university in less than two weeks. He was busy enough, and when she wasn’t sleeping in bed—something she was doing way too often lately—she was out with her cousin, working.

Cross needed Catherine to slow down. He needed to slow down. That way, he could look her in the face for more than five seconds at a time, to reassure himself that she was okay. He hadn’t been able to do that at all.

“Well?” Rick demanded. “Are you busy?”

Cross couldn’t say no.

That wasn’t how it worked.

“Nah, but I am just getting into my place.”

“Shower up, and meet me in Hell’s Kitchen at the coffee shop I like. We’re doing business today.”

Cross’s jaw ached from clenching his teeth so damn hard. “Sure, Skip.”

“Don’t fuck around, either.”

Rick hung up without a goodbye, not that Cross minded all that damn much. He stuffed his phone in his pocket, and headed for where he knew Catherine would be. It didn’t matter that it was nine in the morning, and he already got four calls from Dante Marcello wanting to know why his daughter wasn’t picking up his calls, and hadn’t been over for dinner that week. It didn’t matter that Cross told Catherine again and again that she was worrying him, and her family.

He knew where she would be.

In bed.

Sleeping.

She kept saying she was fine; that she just needed some time, and him, for everything to settle again. That was a huge part of the problem for Cross; he didn’t know what she was trying to settle. Maybe if she would say something beyond white lies of being okay, and to give her time, he could understand.

Right then, he didn’t.

At all.

He knew she was too quiet. He knew she didn’t eat nearly enough. He knew she preferred blankets and him, to public and people. He wanted to help; he didn’t know how.

Cross also didn’t seem to have time.

Sure enough, Cross found Catherine entirely covered in the large comforter on their bed. The only part he could see of her was her face. He swore in sleep, that was the only time she seemed to be content and relaxed lately.

“Hey, Catty,” he murmured, stroking two fingers over her cheekbone.

Pretty green eyes fluttered open, and focused in on him. She smiled. “Where were you last night?”

“Work.”

“Oh.”

“You getting up, or what?” he asked.

Catherine made a face. “Why don’t you get in bed with me instead?”

“Can’t.”