Page 21 of Keeping Katie

His tone is even and quiet, but I feel the steel in it all the way down to my bones. How is that possible?

“I was going to check to see if it had stopped snowing so I can head home.” I motion toward the large glass doors.

He narrows his eyes, and my clit tingles. I don’t think he likes my answer.

“It has stopped snowing, but you’re not driving home in the middle of the night with the streets still wet and slick.”

Squaring my shoulders, I stand a bit taller. Which isn’t much compared to him. The man towers over me. It’s both hot and unnerving. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”

Whoa. Where did that come from? I’m not normally the sassy type. Especially to authoritative figures, and Grady definitely falls into that category.

The gold in his irises flickers. “Can’t I? Because I have your keys in my pocket, so I’m pretty sure I can.”

I glare at him and put my hands on my hips. “How did you get my keys?”

“They were sitting right on top in your purse.”

“You went through my purse?” I shriek, still somewhat quietly.

His lips curl up into an ominous grin. “No. I opened your purse, and they were right there. I didn’t look through anything. Would I have found something naughty in there if I had?”

Heat creeps over my cheeks, and I scoff. “No.”

At least I hope he wouldn’t find anything. He’d really have to search for the secret zipper inside. Every purse needs a secret vibrator compartment if you ask me. It’s probably not actually meant for hiding toys, but it’s freaking brilliant.

“Uh-huh,” he says. “You need to go back to sleep.”

My prickly demeanor disappears, and I drop my hands to my sides. “I can’t sleep here. I don’t know how I fell asleep in the first place.”

His expression softens. “Easy. With your feet in my lap and your head on the pillow. Why can’t you sleep here?”

Oh God. How embarrassing. “I put my feet in your lap?”

“Yes. I like the pastel pink polish you have on. You didn’t answer my question. Why can’t you sleep here?”

He looked at my toes? It’d be nice if a hole would open for me to drop into right about now. Thank goodness I painted my toenails last night. He shouldn’t have sat by me if he didn’t want my feet on him. Although, he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Um, I just don’t sleep well if I’m not in my bed. What time is it?” I scratch my temple and look around for a clock.

“Three. Why don’t you sleep well if you’re not in your bed?” he shoots back.

Tilting my head to look up at him, I smirk. “Are we playing twenty questions?”

His mouth curves into a cocky smile. “Do you want to play twenty questions?”

“Not at three in the morning. Why are you still awake?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I don’t sleep much.”

Huh. That’s too bad. I love sleeping. Especially when I have Pancake. “Why not?”

“Now who’s playing twenty questions?”

I roll my eyes and sigh. This man is exasperating. Does he have this much stamina in other parts of his life? Oh, God, what the hell is wrong with me? “I’ll be fine to drive home.”

“You’re not driving home. It’s out of the question,” he says firmly. His tone leaves no room for argument. Too bad, arguing with him is kind of fun.

“It’s not your decision to make. I’m an adult, you know?”