Page 51 of Cold Foot King
She held open the flap of the tent for him as he stomped snow off his boots.
“Wreck will pick you,” she said with confidence.
“We will see,” he murmured as he gathered his toothbrush and toothpaste from his bag of belongings.
He brushed his teeth just outside of the tent, came back in and sat on his pallet, knees bent, arms draped over them. He had this faraway look in his eyes that she hated. She wished he would spill every thought he was having right now, but he was going quiet on her instead.
Katrina watched him for a minute before she slid behind him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and rested her hands on his chest to feel the strong, steady drumming of his heart. She rested her cheek against the back of his neck. “If you aren’t picked, I will go with you.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I can say whatever I want,” she said. “Wreck will give us passage, and we will pick a place on the map and just go. We will start fresh. We can even build up a family group if you want, although if you bring in multiple mates, you should know I will stab them with my Silver Bear pocketknife that I am definitely still keeping because holy moly, it’s high quality.”
He chuckled. “You’ll kill any competition, got it. There wouldn’t be any competition though, silly girl.” He pulled her arm and dragged her gently around him to face him. “Let’s not talk about this anymore. We don’t know what will happen. It may be worry for nothing.”
“It’s good to be prepared with a plan B,” she pointed out.
“You aren’t leaving the Crew,” he said sternly, his eyes soft on her.
“Mmm,” she said as she slid her arms over his shoulders. “This conversation is boring. I will do whatever I want.”
“Yeah, and if the meds are the reason for the bond?” he asked. “You’ll leave your Crew for a fake bond.”
Katrina shoved him away as anger flared through her. “It’s not fake.” She stood in a rush and looked down at him. “I know what I feel.”
“You have been out of Cold Foot and away from those meds for two days. You don’t know how you feel yet.”
She didn’t know why, but her eyes burned. “He’s going to pick you. He likes you. I can tell. We will have this talk about how I really feel when we get to Montana and you realize how stupid it is that you just said that to me.”
“I’m not stupid—”
“I didn’t call you stupid! I said what you are saying is stupid. I’m not a name-caller in a fight.”
“Are we fighting?” he asked low.
She crossed her arms over her chest and thought about it. “I don’t think so. I think…I think I’m just protective of our bond, and you are insulting it. You are making me question myself.”
“Sometimes that’s a good thing.”
“Stop being so mature. It’s annoying,” she mumbled, flipping open the flap of her sleeping bag so she could cuddle in, zip herself into it, face the wall, and fume about ridiculous boys.
“Come here,” he rumbled.
Now, if it was Rook demanding anything from her, she would’ve bristled up like an enraged badger. It was King though, and his eyes were still soft. Plus he was holding open the flap of his sleeping bag.
She crossed her arms over her chest again.
“Don’t be stubborn. The best part about a fight is the makeup.”
Well, admittedly, that intrigued her. A little. “What kind of makeup?” she asked innocently.
“Bring your sleeping bag over here and find out.” Oh, he was daring her? Clever man. She liked dares.
Chin high in the air, she dragged her sleeping bag to him, and right beside him, she set up the sleeping mat that would protect her from the cold ground under the tent.
His chuckle was deep as she shrugged out of her jacket, snuggled under his sleeping bag, and positioned her sleeping bag over them as an extra layer of insulation against the frigid night air.
He inhaled deep and dragged her tight against his chest. In a whisper, he assured her, “Whatever happens tomorrow, we’re going to be just fine.” And there was truth to his voice, so she had no choice but to believe him.