Where the hell is Katee?
I glance at the clock. She’s been gone for hours now. Ignoring the hundreds of messages on my phone, I try texting her again, but I’m still not getting any response. I call again, but it goes straight to voice mail. Unease morphs to panic, and I pace from the door to the window. It’s nearing eleven and I’m pretty sure the shops closed ages ago. Maybe she went for a drink with her new friend, or maybe she’s lost or hurt.
Okay, enough of this. I pull on my jeans and a sweater, grab my coat and head out the door. The resort is huge and I have no idea where to look, but decide to head to the shops. I make my way to the center of the village, but the stores are all closed. Jesus Christ. Maybe I should check in with security. As full-blown worry burns through me, I head to the bars. The first few I check, she’s nowhere to be found. I start to make my way back to the suite, hoping she’s returned, when I hear laughter coming from the ski hill lounge. I turn and follow the path.
I pull open the heavy door, and laughter and music fall over me. I scan the place, but she’s not here. I grip my hair and wrack my brain as I tug. I do another quick scan when a movement catches my attention. Relief washes through me when I find Katee coming from the ladies’ room. I lift my hand to wave to her, but she stumbles a bit. What the hell is going on?
I’m weaving my way through the crowd and making my way to her, but stop abruptly when she settles into a chair next to the douche bag from the water volley ball game. Oh, hell no!
As anger burns through my blood, I step up to her. “Katee, it’s time to go.”
Glassy eyes latch onto mine. “Luke,” she says, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to bring you back home.”
She waves her hand at me. “I don’t want to go home. I’m having drinks with my new friend Jacob.”
I turn to Jacob who stands to his full height. “Is there a problem?” he asks.
“Yeah, there’s a fucking problem,” I say. “You’re having drinks with my wife, and that’s a big fucking problem for me, asshole.”
Jacob laughs. “Your wife. The gig is up, dude. She told me everything.”
My gaze flies to Katee’s, and my heart jumps in my chest. “Katee, what’s going on?”
She waves a dismissive hand my way, and turns away. “I told you I’m having drinks with my new friend.”
“I think you should come with me.”
I touch her arm and she jerks it away. “You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not really my husband,” she says, her words slurred slightly.
“You’re not going back to this guy’s room,” I say blatantly.
“I can do what I want.”
Jacob pokes his finger into my chest and sways a little. Looks like he had also had too much to drink. “Yeah, dude, she can do what she wants.”
Before I can think better of it, I shove Jacob and he goes flying backward, falling into a table and crashing to the floor. As everyone jumps, the commotion gaining their attention, I use that opportunity to lift Katee from her chair, whether she likes it or not. I hate going all Neanderthal on her, but she’s not safe with this guy.
“Luke, don’t,” she says feebly as I grab her coat and lead her outdoors. She blinks as the cold washes over her and I help her into her coat, zipper it to her neck. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Putting you to bed. You had too much to drink, and I don’t want you to regret your decisions come morning.”
“We never should have slept together,” she says as I put my arm around her waist and lead her along the path. “That’s the decision I regret.”
I clamp my mouth shut, despite the storm going on inside me, and get her back to our room. Once inside, I undress her, leaving her in her bra and panties, and get her a glass of water. I root through her bag until I find a bottle of acetaminophen and I place it on her nightstand. She falls fast asleep and I slide in beside her. Everything was going so good between us. After her shopping trip, I had planned to tell her all the things I loved about her, tell her what she means to me. But she never came back. I have no idea what happened to her tonight, or why she decided it was a good idea to drink with a stranger in a bar, but come tomorrow morning, I sure as hell plan on finding out.
I close my eyes, and the next thing I know, an agonized moan is pulling me awake. I glance at the clock. Dammit, we slept in. We have a plane to catch in a couple of hours. At least we’ll have time to talk on the long flight back to Seattle.
“How are you feeling?” I ask quietly.
“Horrible.” She turns to me and her eyes are red, her hair a tangled mess.
“Let’s get you in the shower.”
She shoves the blankets off, and then winces. “I can shower myself.”
As she pushes me away, physically and emotionally, my stomach clenches. “We have to hurry. We have a plane to catch.”