Page 14 of Cuckoo
Wow, that sounds lame.
“Katrina, I know this is a shock. Just come inside, eat, and we’ll talk. Okay?”
Finally, my head and body got it figured out. I climbed off the bike as he held out his hand. Placing my palm against his, I didn’t say a word as he slid his fingers through mine and led me toward my front door.
“I’ll just get the alarm.”
He nodded.
Since he didn’t release my hand, I used the other to reach into my purse for my keys, open the front door, and step inside. I punched in my code, wondering if he saw it.
Rain gestured toward my kitchen. “Have a seat. I know you’re tired.”
I didn’t ask how he knew. Did he come into the library?
Exhausted, I dropped onto one of the stools at my kitchen island and set my purse on the couch on the way. “We need drinks.” I pushed off the seat to stand, but Rain shook his head.
“No. You stay there. I’ll grab it.”
Sighing, I listened. “Thanks,” I mumbled as he slid a cold Diet Coke my way. I popped the top and took a drink, setting it aside as I watched him chug a water bottle, belch, and then grab a Coke for himself.
“It’s hot out today,” he explained as he joined me, taking the seat on my immediate left. “Here, I got you a salad and a club sandwich.” He opened one of the bags and slid them to me.
I noticed my favorite dressing, a raspberry vinegarette. The club sandwich was also one of my preferences. “How did you know?”
He shrugged. “Eat.”
I took a modest bite as he watched me, feeling like I was being studied under a microscope as I chewed. After another bite, he seemed satisfied and opened the other bag.
Rain had a footlong sub, two bags of chips, an apple, and three cookies. He ate it all as I sat there, slowly chewing as he devoured his food. It wasn’t gross. Some people chew with their mouths open, but he seemed to make an effort for me. I was just a slow eater. Always had been.
When we both had our fill, he turned toward me and dragged my stool closer until I sat between his thighs, facing him.
“I waited a long time to find you.”
Wow. Really? I wasn’t sure he would ever care. Just because I had a crush on him at thirteen didn’t mean he remembered me as anything more than an annoying younger foster sibling. Sure, we had moments where we clicked. I would be lying if I said we weren’t each other’s lifeline during those dark days, but he owed me nothing.
“Tell me what that look means,” he ordered gruffly.
“What look?’ I asked, a little too sassy.
“The one where you scrunch that adorable little nose and look wounded.”
Wounded? I looked away, too exposed to remain in his direct sight.
“I didn’t leave you.”
“I know that.” I was adopted.
“I never forgot you, either. I swear it, angel.”
I dared to finally meet his gunmetal eyes. “Why are you telling me this?” Shaking my head, I wanted to know why he tried to locate me. Or was this all a coincidence?
“Because I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“And that means what?” This didn’t make sense.
“You want to know what I want from you,” he discerned. “That’s not complicated. I just want to be in your life, Katrina.”
