Securing Caite Page 13

  Looking toward his office door, he quickly picked up the throwaway phone and dialed once more. He had another shipment of priceless artifacts that was about to be on its way to the States, and this time it couldn’t be fucked up. The buyer was suspicious and antsy—and a mean motherfucker. Everything had to go off without a hitch if he wanted to get his money and live to see another day.

  Chapter Nine

  On Saturday morning, Caite smiled as she made her way to work. She walked on the sidewalk that ran along a major street. She was looking down at her phone, occasionally glancing up to make sure she didn’t run into anyone.

  * * *

  Rocco: Good morning, beautiful.

  Caite: Morning. Are you sure you can’t tell me where we’re going tonight?

  Rocco: I’m sure. You really don’t do surprises well, huh?

  Caite: No. They drive me crazy. How do I know what to wear? What kind of shoes?

  Rocco: Maybe you don’t need clothes. Maybe I’m taking you swimming.

  Caite: Well, that would be disastrous, as I can’t swim.

  Rocco: What? Seriously?

  Caite: Yup.

  Rocco: Well, now I really need to take you so you can learn.

  Caite: I can float, but not very well.

  Rocco: We’ll start out in the ocean, the saltwater makes you more buoyant.

  Rocco: Caite? You still there?

  Caite: I’m not sure that’s a great idea. I want to make a good impression, not have you exasperated because I can’t swim.

  Rocco: Can you talk?

  Caite: We are talking.

  Rocco: I’m calling.

  * * *

  Caite was typing a response when the phone rang in her hand. She stopped at an intersection and waited for the light to turn green as she answered. “Hey.”

  “I’m not going to be exasperated because you can’t swim,” he said in lieu of greeting.

  She sighed. “I know. It’s just weird that I can’t swim. Growing up in San Francisco, we went to the beach a lot but I always played in the sand. When I got old enough, my mom put me in lessons, but I screamed in fear and refused to try anything the instructor said. So my parents took me out and decided they’d try again when I got older. Something about being in water over my head freaks me out.”

  “So you really can’t swim at all?” Rocco asked.

  Caite didn’t hear any censure in his voice, just curiosity. “I can float. Barely,” she told him. “As long as I don’t have to put my face in the water I’m okay, but the ocean makes me really uncomfortable.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Rocco, it’s full of animals! Big ones with teeth! And if it’s not sharks or crabs with pinchers, it’s jellyfish. Those things might not have teeth, but they can still sting.” She shuddered. “Nope. If I have to be in the water, it’s shallow, chlorinated, and clean water for me, thank you very much.”

  “You know pools aren’t really that clean, right?” Rocco asked.

  “Oh, lord, please. Don’t tell me,” Caite said as she walked across the street when the light changed.

  “You trust me, right?” Rocco asked.

  “Yes.” Caite didn’t even have to think about her response. She trusted him more than just about anyone in her life. He’d come over and installed the extra deadbolt on her door, and then they’d stayed up late talking about their lives and getting to know each other. He’d told her how hard it had been, trying out to be a SEAL, and how close he and his friends had gotten during that time. She knew him a lot better already. Not to mention, he’d easily gotten her through the streets of Bahrain. Yeah, she trusted him.

  For her part, she’d told him how she’d had some close friends in high school, but when they all split up and went to different colleges, they’d drifted apart. She’d also had a lot of friends while she was studying at the university, but they’d all had different career paths and hadn’t really kept in touch.

  Caite admitted that she was close with her mom, but she didn’t get to see her as much as she wanted. She told him more about how scared she’d been in Bahrain when she’d been by herself, trying to find where he and the others had been stashed.

  But from the second she’d met Rocco, she’d felt safe with him. She never would’ve agreed to go out with him if she didn’t. And nothing that had happened since they’d met had changed that.

  “Right, you trust me, so do you really think I’d do anything that would embarrass you or put you in danger?” he asked.

  Caite swerved around a family and smiled at them as she continued down the sidewalk toward the convenience store. “No.”

  “Damn straight I wouldn’t. If I promised to make sure no sharks ate you, would you be willing to come to the beach and let me teach you more water safety?”

  Caite bit her lip. Her first reaction was to say no. That she didn’t need to know how to swim. That she was too scared.

  But this was Rocco. She didn’t want to disappoint him almost as badly as she didn’t want to embarrass herself. “And you promise nothing will eat me?”

  “No sea creature, for sure,” Rocco responded.

  It took a minute for his words to sink in, but when they did, Caite blushed.

  “Sorry,” Rocco said, not sounding sorry in the least. “That slipped out. You’d be able to see me in a swimsuit if you agreed…”

  “You don’t play fair,” Caite said with a laugh.

  “Nope. Not when it comes to something I want.”

  “I’m not sure, Rocco. I’m not confident about doing new things like you are.”

  “Caite, I swear I’ll make it fun for you. I’m not going to force you to swim a mile in choppy seas. I’ll make sure we go on a day that’s calm and the water’s smooth. I swear you’ll float so easily, you’ll wonder why you were ever unsure about it. The saltwater tastes like shit, but it’s the best way to learn how to swim and float and to get more sure of yourself in the water.”

  “Okay. But only if you promise to let me ogle you in your suit as much as I want.”

  “Deal. But I get to do the same.”

  Caite barked out a laugh. “I’m not sure I’m ogling material,” she said honestly.

  “Wrong,” Rocco said immediately. “I’ve ogled you plenty when you were fully dressed, and I’ve already been turned on by what I’ve seen. You in a suit? I have no doubt I’ll embarrass myself by getting hard, and a swimsuit can’t actually hide that shit for a man.”

  Caite was blushing now, but she chuckled anyway. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For being so down-to-earth. For making me excited to go out with someone again.”

  “I think that’s my line,” Rocco said.

  “I’m getting close to work,” Caite told him. “I gotta go.”

  “Okay. I’ll be at your apartment at five-thirty. Is that enough time for you to get home and get ready?”

  “Yeah. I should be off at four.”

  “Be safe, and I’ll see you later.”

  “Hey, wait,” Caite said suddenly.

  “Yeah?”

  “Where are we going? You never said.”

  “Nope. I never did.”

  “Rocco…I still have no idea what to wear,” Caite complained.

  “We aren’t going mudding and we aren’t going to the opera,” Rocco told her. “Dress like you would to impress a first date.”

  Caite nodded. He was right. She was overthinking this. Even though Rocco was extremely fit, it wasn’t as if he was going to take her rock climbing or something. At least not on their first official date.

  “Okay. I can do that.”

  “Later, ma petite fée.”

  “Bye.” Caite clicked off her phone and carefully tucked it into her purse. More than once, she’d dropped and cracked her screen, and since this phone was brand new, and money was tight, that was the last thing she needed.

  Smiling, she crossed the last street and headed across the parking lot to the convenience store. N
ow that she had a few days under her belt, she was more comfortable with the job and what to expect. It wasn’t hard, but it was tiring being on her feet all day.

  Making a mental note to take the time that weekend to look for another administrative assistant position, Caite opened the door and headed for the back room to store her purse before starting her day.

  By the time the end of her work shift came around, Caite was exhausted. She’d been on her feet all day and her face hurt from smiling. She was used to dealing with the general public from her job as an admin, but working at the store was completely different. She had to be on the lookout for shoplifters, be helpful and courteous, even when the customers weren’t. She stocked shelves, poured ice into the soft-drink machine, cleaned up spills, and generally tidied the store.

  Not only that, but the night-shift employee who was supposed to relieve her was late. So Caite didn’t get out of the store until four-twenty, which meant by the time she got home, she wouldn’t have that much time to shower and figure out what the heck to wear for her date with Rocco.

  She debated calling him and asking for an additional fifteen minutes to get ready, but ultimately decided she could make it. And she honestly didn’t think Rocco would have a problem waiting if she wasn’t quite ready when he got there. She didn’t know if he’d made reservations anywhere, which he probably had, but she had confidence she could get ready in time.

  Pulling out her phone, Caite scrolled through her emails as she power-walked toward her apartment building. She wanted to see if she’d heard back from any of the inquiries she’d made about jobs so far. She’d taken some time on her lunch break to apply online for a few secretarial positions. She was disappointed when she didn’t see any return emails, but then remembered it was Saturday. Most offices would be closed on the weekends.

  Caite smiled at seeing she’d received an email from her dad. Her father was eccentric. He was also one of the smartest men she’d ever met. He liked to do the New York Times crossword puzzles and almost always finished them in one sitting.

  He also sent random emails about conservation of the earth, and little ditties about what he’d been up to. But the emails she liked the most were the ones that included his hand-drawn cartoons. They ranged from political to nonsensical. Sometimes she didn’t even understand them, as whatever he was parodying went over her head. But she loved receiving them regardless.

  She’d just opened the email and was waiting on the picture of his latest cartoon to load when Caite heard a noise behind her. She glanced back at the same time a man running toward her shouted, “Look out!”

  Caite was frozen for a heartbeat when she realized what was happening.

  A large black pickup truck was headed straight for her.

  The right tires were up on the small strip of grass next to the road and all she could see was the giant front grill.

  Acting instinctively, Caite threw herself to the side and grunted when her shoulder hit the brick building next to her. Her hair blew across her face as she slammed against the bricks, and she could literally feel the air rush by her from the truck careening past.

  Somehow, Caite managed to stay upright and keep hold of her phone.

  The truck bounced down the sidewalk toward the man who had yelled out the warning, then abruptly turned back onto the road. Once all four wheels were back on the pavement, it took off down the street as if the hounds of hell were after it.

  Caite stood plastered against the brick building for a moment, stunned.

  “Holy shit! You almost got run over. Are you all right?” the man exclaimed as he reached her.

  Caite nodded, slightly dazed. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  The man turned around and glared in the direction the truck had gone. “I didn’t get the plate number. It happened too quickly,” he said, then looked back at her. “Are you sure you’re okay? You hit the wall pretty hard.”

  Caite gave him a shaky smile. “I’m a lot better than I would’ve been if that truck had smashed me against the building.”

  “True that. Shit! That was crazy. Asshole was probably on his phone. Glad you’re okay.” And with that, the man, still muttering to himself and shaking his head, continued on his way past Caite and down the sidewalk.

  Caite took a deep breath and automatically looked down at the screen of her phone. The cartoon from her dad had finished loading. It was drawn using his typical stick figures, and Caite couldn’t help but shake her own head.

  In the first frame, one person was saying to the other, “You know what the problem is with being smart? You pretty much know what’s going to happen next.”

  The next frame had the other person asking, “So, what’s going to happen next?”

  And in the last frame, the first person said, “I don’t know.”

  It made her chuckle. “I wish I had known what was about to happen so I could’ve gotten out of the way faster,” she muttered. Caite saved the picture to her phone and took a deep breath. She glanced at her watch and swore. She was even later now.

  Putting the harrowing incident to the back of her mind, she hurried down the sidewalk, thinking about what she was going to wear. She wavered between a skirt and a nice pair of black slacks. She wasn’t really a skirt or dress person, but this was a first date. She wanted to make as good an impression as possible. She wanted to look nice for Rocco.

  By the time she got back to her apartment, she’d almost forgotten about the truck, telling herself it was probably just as the stranger had said, someone texting while driving or simply not paying attention. People were idiots.

  She rushed inside her apartment and threw her purse onto the kitchen counter and was stripping off her shirt before she’d even gotten to her room. She was cutting it too close, and knew she probably wouldn’t be ready by the time Rocco arrived.

  Twenty minutes later, Caite had decided on a flirty royal-blue skirt instead of pants. Because of Bahrain’s extremely conservative society, she’d worn nothing but slacks while there. Deciding to wear something outside her norm, she put on the skirt and a pair of two-inch heels. A white blouse with cut-out shoulders completed her look. She still needed to dry her hair and put on a bit of makeup when Rocco knocked.

  She pulled open the door and immediately turned back around and headed for her room. “Make yourself at home,” she called out as she went. “I’m not ready yet!”

  She was almost back to her room when a strong arm curved around her waist and pulled her backward. She giggled and allowed herself to be turned around in his arms.

  “I know I’m late, I’m so sorry,” she babbled. “I got off work late and was going to call you, but I still thought I’d be finished before you got here.”

  “You smell delicious,” Rocco said, right before he buried his nose in the side of her neck.

  Caite tilted her head, giving him room. “Rocco, I need to go dry my hair.”

  “Mmmmm.”

  He wasn’t helping. “Rocco,” she insisted. “I’m assuming you have reservations somewhere, since it’s Saturday night. If you don’t let me go, we won’t make them and we’ll have to eat at McDonald’s or something…not that I mind that…I love me some Mickey-D fries, but I just figured you probably had something else planned.”

  “We’re not going to McDonald’s,” he said as he ran his nose up and down her neck.

  Caite shivered at the sensation. His beard tickled her skin where it touched her, and she had the urge to tell him that she didn’t want to go anywhere. To pull him into her bedroom and throw him down on her bed and straddle him.

  But the second she had the thought, he straightened. He looked from her hair down to her toes. “I love the skirt,” he said after a beat.

  “Thanks,” Caite said shyly.

  “You look perfect just the way you are,” he told her as he tucked a piece of damp hair behind her ear.

  “I need to finish getting ready,” she said in a near whisper.

  Rocco nodded and took a step back.
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  “Help yourself to a drink if you want. Or anything else.”

  “I’m good.”

  “Okay, then…I’ll hurry.”

  “You’re fine, ma petite fée, take your time. Our reservation isn’t until seven.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Then she smiled at him, turned, and fled into her bedroom.

  Fifteen minutes later, she came out of the small hallway and smiled at the vision that greeted her.

  Rocco was sitting on her couch, one of her romance books in his hand, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was standing there.

  “I’m ready,” she said.

  He didn’t flinch, and Caite realized he’d known she was there all along. He placed the book back on the table next to the couch where she’d left it and stood.

  “You don’t seem like the romance-book type,” she said a bit nervously.

  Rocco strode forward until he was right in front of her, and she had to crane her neck back to hold eye contact with him.

  “I’m not usually, but what I read of that one…it’s good,” he told her.

  “It’s a romantic suspense. I like it when there’s an external conflict at the end, rather than a fight or something between the hero and heroine. I also like it when the heroine kicks some ass and isn’t afraid to stand up to the bad guy.”

  “Hmmm. You look beautiful,” Rocco said.

  Caite knew she’d been babbling about the book because she was nervous, and she pressed her lips together to keep herself from saying anything else stupid.

  Rocco leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek.

  Caite hadn’t taken the time to drink him in earlier, but did so now. He was wearing a pair of khakis and a white polo shirt. His brown hair was brushed and didn’t stick up anywhere, as she’d seen it do in the past. His beard even looked as if it’d been trimmed. In short, he looked yummy.

  Then something else occurred to her.

  “Our shirts match,” she blurted.