Rock Kiss 03 Rock Redemption(88)

“Kit.”

“I’m awake now and I’m going running. Your choice if you want to join me.”

An infuriated sound came through the door, but she heard him moving to his room, and when she stepped out in her running clothes, her hair corralled into a ponytail, he was there. “We can run around inside your property,” he said, holding up a hand when she would’ve objected. “This stalker guy watches you. We can’t take the risk that he’s out there and he has a gun.”

She threw up her hands. “I don’t think he can run that fast, but whatever.” At least this mortgaged-to-the-hilt estate had enough land to make for a good lap.




Noah put his hands on his hips, eyes narrowed. Kit never said things like “whatever” in that tone of voice. “What’s wrong with you?”

A growling sound. “When did I say I was a morning person?” With that, she turned and headed out. “Pull the door shut and set the alarm.”

Glad she was thinking smart and not relying blindly on her security guys, he input the code to arm the security system, then pulled the door shut. It locked automatically behind them. Kit was in front of him, warming up. Noah never warmed up—he just ran until the nightmares couldn’t keep up, but today he stretched to keep Kit company. When they began to run, it was to head down a pathway that wove through the trees on her property.

It took him a minute to figure out the right pace. Kit was fit, but his stride was longer and he ran far more than she did. Running was hands down her least favorite form of exercise. It should’ve irritated him that he had to slow down for her, but he liked having her beside him, liked that he wasn’t alone in the dark. The fact that she chose to be with him even when she didn’t like running?

Yeah, that did all kinds of things inside him.

“You going to build a pool?” That, he knew, had been a significant downside to this property, but she’d bought it anyway because she’d been in a hurry. Not content with ejaculating on her bed, her disturbed stalker had slipped love notes under the town house door. She’d had to get out.

“When I have the money,” Kit replied.

“I have the money.”

“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.”

The night wind rippling through his hair, he set his jaw. “If we’re going to live together, I get to contribute.” He wanted to contribute, to do things that turned this from her place to theirs, entangling them together on another level.

“Right now we haven’t even lived together a single day. Let’s talk when it’s been a year.”

“Two months.”

Kit snorted. “Eight.”

“Six.”

“Fine.”

He grinned. “What kind of pool do you want?”

Slanting him a glance, she said, “Shut up and run.”

He laughed and they ran, the night a starlit quiet around them. They passed one of the security guys, kept going with a nod of hello. It took four circuits around the property before Kit stopped at her front door. “Enough?” she said, her breath jagged and her hands on her knees.

“Yeah.” He usually ran for hours, but then he was usually alone. Running with Kit had been different—he didn’t know if he was tired enough to catch some shut-eye, but at least he no longer felt as twisted and black inside. “Let’s go in.”




He did sleep. Not much, but about the same amount he did after exhausting himself—or by fucking out his rage. Not that it had exactly been the latter when he screwed those random groupies. There was a twisted version of male pride involved too, but he didn’t have to think about his fucked-up psyche today. Because today when he woke, it wasn’t with the taste of disgust in his mouth but to the scent of coffee.

Wandering out of the bedroom without bothering to pull on jeans over the black of his boxer briefs—Kit had seen it all before anyway—he yawned as he stepped into the kitchen. “I thought you’d sleep in.”

She didn’t look away from the box she was reading. “Can’t. Body clock.”

“What’s that?” Leaning on the counter, he stole her coffee and took a deep gulp.

“Waffle mix.”

His stomach rumbled.

Glancing across the counter, her lips began to curve before her expression morphed into a scowl. “You look terrible.”




Kit was lying—Noah looked gorgeous. His hair was all rumpled, his shoulders golden and sleek with muscle, his upper body far too beautiful for her peace of mind.

And his eyes, those gray eyes, were full of light.

“Gee, thanks, Katie.”

“No waffles for you.”