It’s not like we’re sleeping together. We’ve only been out together a few times and shared some kisses.

Some amazing, mind-blowing, ruin me for all other kisses kisses, but just kisses all the same.

But I’ve missed seeing him on his balcony in the evenings.

Maybe he hasn’t missed me.

I glare at my phone, then bring Eli’s number up in my text box and send him a quick message: How is your trip going?

I bite my lip and hit send. It’s a friendly message, but doesn’t sound too needy.

Good Lord, I’m such a girl.

I flop onto the couch and turn the TV on, flipping through the channels and stopping on a show that I’ve heard good things about, but have never watched before, and try to get lost in the handsome actors and suspenseful story line.

Two hours later, after no response from Eli, and staring at the TV without following any of the shows that have played, I snap it off and scrub my hands over my face.

I want something sweet. That’ll make me feel better. Now, ice cream or beignets? Café du Monde is open 24/7, thank goodness, because when I glance at the clock, I realize it’s almost midnight.

Eli warned me not to wander around at night by myself, but the café is only a few blocks away. It’ll take me less than five minutes each way to walk it. I can almost taste them now, and my mouth waters at the thought of the sugary goodness.

I’ll stock my freezer with ice cream later for future emergencies such as this.

With a decisive nod, I slip my feet into my sneakers, grab my keys and some cash, and dash out the front door, walking briskly. There aren’t many people out at this time of night. Some homeless people with their dogs curl up in doorways, sleeping. Someone is playing a saxophone on a balcony nearby, filling the night air with beautiful notes, making me think of Declan.

When I come upon Jackson Square, I decide to walk around the park rather than walk through it. That would just be asking for trouble.

Before long, I’m at the café and standing at the take out counter where I order a bag of the doughnuts and wait for just a few minutes while my order is filled. I glance around at the mostly empty café. There are a few people out, but it’s mostly deserted, making me regret the walk out by myself.

I just have an uneasy feeling.

I check my phone, frowning when there still isn’t a response from Eli. I understand that he’s working, but he could have at least returned the message. Now, it’s after one in the morning in New York, and he’s most likely asleep.

Or with someone.

I shake my head in disgust, pay for my pastries, and set off back to my place. My stomach is in knots; this time, it’s not because I miss Eli, but because it’s actually kind of spooky in the Quarter at night.

“Really shouldn’t have done this, Mary Katherine,” I murmur to myself, as I clutch my warm bag of beignets to my chest and walk quickly, head up, constantly watching my surroundings. I pass Jackson Square and turn the corner near my loft when I see a taxi pass me and slow down, and then I’m suddenly jerked from behind.

“Scream and I’ll kill you,” a mean, hoarse voice snarls in my ear, as I feel something sharp pressed to my ribs. “Give me your money.”

“I don’t—” I begin, but lean forward, stomp on his foot, and smash the back of my head into the man’s face, making him wail.

“Kate!”

I turn and jab my elbow into the man’s stomach, but suddenly, I’m pulled away and Eli is there, landing a hard blow to the man’s nose, knocking him cold.

“I almost had him,” I say, panting and beginning to shiver as Eli dials 911 and reports the attempted mugging.

“What in the hell are you doing out here?” Eli spins, plants his hands on my shoulders and glares down at me.

Chapter Nine

Eli

“What were you doing?” I ask again when she only stares at me, her green eyes dilated in shock as she begins to shake. I pull her against me, wrap my arms around her shoulders and hold on tight, as sirens can be heard in the distance.

“Sir, the cab fare?” The cabbie approaches us, and I swear under my breath, wrap one arm around Kate and fish my wallet out of my pocket. I pay the cabbie and keep an eye on the man beginning to moan on the sidewalk.

“The luggage?”

“Leave it on the fucking sidewalk.”

I want to fucking kill him.

“I’m sorry,” Kate whispers in my arms. She’s clinging to me now, her eyes pinned on the asshole waking up and dabbing at his nose.

“If you fucking move, I’ll knock you back out.”

“I just—”

“Shut the fuck up!” I reply, my voice hard and cold. Kate flinches, burying her face in my chest, then takes a deep breath and pulls away, meeting my eyes with hers.

“I’m okay.”

“Kate—”

“I’m okay,” she repeats stubbornly and glares at her mugger for roughly ten seconds until the police show up. For the next thirty minutes, Kate and I are questioned by the police, and the mugger is cuffed and taken away. We are finally given the okay to go home.

“I’m sorry about this,” Kate says, as we reach my luggage on the sidewalk in front of my house. “Do you need help in with your bags?”

“No,” I reply shortly. I’m so fucking pissed. Adrenaline is still coursing through me. I wanted to keep punching that fucker for just thinking of putting his hands on her.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re not going home,” I reply, and take her hand in mine and lead her into my house.

“Eli, I’m fine.”

“I’m not,” I reply and unlock the front door, wait for her to walk in ahead of me, then leave my suitcase and briefcase just inside the door, lock it, and tug my tie off as I lead her up the stairs to the living area, shocked to discover that my own hands are shaking.

Kate stands in the middle of the room as I pour two glasses of brandy, pass her one, and take a long swallow, watching her as she also takes a drink and cringes as it burns on the way down.

“Why were you out there so late?”

“I wanted beignets,” she whispers, her eyes trained on her drink.

“You wanted beignets?” I ask incredulously. “What the fuck, Kate?”

“Don’t swear at me!” she shouts back, pointing her pink-tipped finger at me. “I was craving sugar, and it was either ice cream or beignets. The beignets were closer, darn it. I missed you, and you didn’t answer my text, and I’m such a girl!”

She says this like I’m supposed to understand the logic, which I completely don’t.

“What does your gender have to do with it?”

She glares at me like I’m being obstinate on purpose, then sets her glass on my desk and moves to walk out, but I catch her arm in my hand and pull her against me.

“You just scared ten years off my life, cher.” I bury my face in her hair and take a deep breath. “I missed you too. I couldn’t answer your text because I was on a flight home when it came in.”

“Why are you home early?”

“Because I needed to see you.” God, she smells amazing and feels incredible against me. “And then, when we drove past in the cab and I saw that fucker come up behind you, my heart stopped in my chest. God, Kate, he could have—”

“He didn’t.” I feel her smile against my chest. “I was kicking his ass.”

“Yes, you were, tiger.” I grin and plant my lips on her forehead. “You weren’t lying when you said you took self defense classes.”

“I’m no victim,” she says fiercely, and another part of me softens.

“You’re amazing,” I reply and then sigh. “Scared me.”

“Me too.” She hugs me tightly before stepping away. “It’s late, and I have to be at work in the morning.”

“You’re not going to work in the morning.”

“Of course I am.”

“No, you’re not. I’m the boss, Kate. You were mugged tonight.” Before she can shake her head and fight me further, I pick her up in my arms and carry her up another flight of stairs to my bedroom. “I want to spend tomorrow with you.”