Marriage of Inconvenience(Knitting in the City Book #7)(162)

My eyes moved to Kat. She was standing at the foot of the bed, holding the knife Drew had given her, and was looking at me. Her lovely face held no expression.

“Hey,” I said, the ache in my chest flowing outward to my arms and fingers. Or maybe the ropes were cutting off my circulation. “Are you going to cut me loose?”

I wished she’d say something.

I wished she’d come closer.

I wished she’d cut these ropes so I could touch her and kiss her and tell her how much I loved her. I loved her so fucking much, part of me thought maybe I wouldn’t be able to last another ten minutes without her in my arms. My heart would give out. I’d die. BAM. Kaput. The end.

She continued to watch me, like she was thinking about cutting me loose, but hadn’t yet made up her mind.

“Kat?”

“Are you really okay?” she asked, sounding worried.

“Honestly? Yes.” I rolled my eyes at myself, admitting, “And there were only four guys and a taser, no guns. Sorry I lied.”

The side of her mouth curved upward, but then flattened again.

She took a deep breath, walked to the table by the bed and placed the knife on it. As she did this, her expression grew cold. “Aren’t you going to thank me?”

I stared at her, then glanced at the knife, my lips parting in confusion. “Thank you . . .?”

“For paying the ransom.” Now she sounded pissed.

I flinched, her words landing like a slap.

Is she mad about having to pay the ransom?

Now we were wearing matching frowns. “You want me to thank you for paying the ransom?”

“You must feel grateful.”

I glared at her, unable to believe what I was hearing. This was not the reunion   I’d imagined.

“I wonder,” Kat tapped her chin theatrically, “how will I ever know whether your feelings for me are real, or because of gratitude?”

Gratitude? What the fuck is she—

…

…

…

Oh.

Gratitude.

Right.

I’m the asshole.

I closed my eyes, breathing out a rueful laugh. She was a smart one, this wife of mine.

“Well-played.”

She also laughed, but it sounded bitter. “That’s it?”

Her angry tone had me peeking through one eye.

“That’s all I get? Well-played?” She sounded slightly hysterical. “I thought you were going die. I thought,” she took a breath, like she had to, “I thought Caleb was going to have you killed. You said I could trust you.”

“You can trust me. Me being held for ransom doesn’t mean you can’t trust me.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about!” She spun away, throwing her hands in the air and then pulling them through her hair.

In the corner of my eye, I noticed that the volume of her voice caught Wally’s attention. He lifted his head, glancing between the two of us.

But then the sound of a choking sob coming from Kat meant that she had my full attention. I strained against the rope, needing to get to her, needing to pull her into my arms and kiss the fuck out of her.

“Will you please cut me loose?”

She turned halfway, giving me her profile. “Maybe I should.”

It took me a second to realize she wasn’t talking about the ropes, and in the next second my stomach dropped, like someone had cut a hole in my abdomen. In fact, it felt like they were still cutting the hole, the pain was so bad.

“Don’t you say that.” I choked on the words, my throat clogged with emotion. I cleared it, and said firmly, “There’s no cutting me loose from you. We’re—we’re it.”

She glanced at me, hurt and accusation in her eyes. “I trusted you.”

“You can still trust me.”

“I can’t.” Her face crumpled and she shook her head. “Because you don’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you. I trust you more than any—”

“You didn’t believe me when I told you that I loved you.”

That had my mouth snapping shut and us trading glares again, because she was right.

“You don’t trust that I love you because,” her expression cleared and I could see she was working to maintain her composure. When she spoke next, her voice had firmed. “Because you think—some part of you thinks—maybe, maybe I’m only with you because of gratitude.”

My chest rose and fell with a deep breath. What could I say? She was right. About everything.

So say that.

“You’re right.”

Kat continued to glare, saying nothing, like she expected me to continue.

“What can I say? You’re right. That’s what I thought. I was a dumbass. You’re right.”

“That’s what you thought. What does that mean?”