Cross + Catherine: The Companion

by Bethany-Kris

  Catherine pursed her lips. “I don’t know. When it’s them, it’s them. That’s what I see, Cross. I don’t worry about the rest. That’s for them to figure out.”

  “Like us, then.”

  “What?”

  “Us, Catty. You know, back when we were confused and together and not together … and everything else. When it was us, we were—”

  “Us,” she whispered.

  Cross nodded. “Yeah, babe.”

  “But you told him no?”

  “I said no to something like them going out of the house alone, or that kind of thing. Besides, it’s not that I don’t trust Juan, Catherine. I know he would be responsible, and good to Cece.”

  “Then what it is?”

  “Her,” Cross said simply.

  “Her.”

  “Mmhmm. She’s still unsure. She still doesn’t know. Last month, she was texting a boy at school, and at the last formal, she was excited about having two different boys to go with. She’s still trying to figure out this dating thing—this boys thing. Do you want her to figure that out with him? Figure that out on him? A boy who cares for her—loves her?”

  “You think he—”

  “I know he loves her,” Cross said, nodding. “And I think she loves him, too, but she’s still trying to figure this out. I want her to have the time to do that, Catherine. So yeah, when it’s them, it’s them. And when it’s not them, they don’t have to worry about it right now.”

  “Huh.”

  “You look confused,” her husband murmured, coming close enough to wrap her in his arms.

  “No, not confused.”

  “What, then?”

  “I just remembered something, that’s all.”

  Cross tipped Catherine’s head back, and dropped a kiss to her lips. “And what is that, my girl?”

  “How amazing you are.”

  Because he was. More than anyone knew.

  Except Catherine.

  Catherine always knew.

  The Date

  Cross POV

  “Uh … Cross?”

  Cross glanced up from the work he had spread out on his desk. Plans for an outgoing shipment of illegal cigarettes and liquor to Canada. It was a damn good money maker, as far as that went.

  He hated being taken away from his work, but someone was always doing that to him, anyway.

  Cross found Juan standing in the doorway of his office—an eighteen year old with eyes for Cross’s sixteen-year-old daughter. Although to be fair, Juan had never really stepped out of line with Cece, so to speak.

  The two’s interest in each other was quite clear. It had been that way since Cece was about thirteen, or so.

  Juan had been raised by a decent man, though. Being that he was two years older than Cece, he didn’t put holds or anything on her. He didn’t pressure her, either.

  Still, it was clear …

  The signs were there …

  It was all leading to this.

  Cross knew it.

  He’d been waiting for it.

  “Come in, Juan,” Cross said. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

  Juan shrugged his broad shoulders—in his relaxed features, the biracial Latino-American man looked a look like his father, with just a touch of his mother, too. Handsome, definitely. He was a confident young man, and driven in his business.

  He took that from his father, too.

  Catherine’s right-hand man, Miguel.

  “Came down from California when I had a weekend off,” Juan said as he took a seat across from Cross’s desk. “Dad never gives me time off, so I figured I might as well take it while I could.”

  “Mmm, I know,” Cross replied. “Cece knows it, too.”

  Juan’s gaze drifted to the window, and then back to Cross. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “She misses you quite a bit when you stay gone for long periods of time.”

  “Don’t really have a choice.”

  “You could try to make it a choice.”

  Juan glanced at Cross who only cocked a single eyebrow, and then nodded. “I will definitely do that, then.”

  “Good. Now, what can I do for you?”

  “Do you remember when I came to speak to you last year?” Juan asked.

  “I have practically watched you grow up, Juan, so yes.”

  “Specifically, when I asked about taking Cece out.”

  Cross cleared his throat. “I remember that, too, yeah.”

  He was not going to make this easy on the kid—well, kid was kind of insulting, considering Juan’s age. But what Cross said still stood, too. He watched Juan grow up. He was always going to be somewhat of a kid to him, regardless.

  That was life.

  And it was really only because Cross knew Juan—and his family—so well that this entire thing was not as hard for Cross as it might have been had it been another young man sitting across from him. Someone else, and Cross would not even be willing to entertain the idea of their affections for his daughter.

  Cece was … special.

  Beautiful.

  Smart.

  Kickass.

  Badass.

  Too much like her mother.

  A good dose of him.

  She was theirs.

  And someone else wanted to make her theirs, too.

  Juan.

  “I told you to wait until she was sixteen,” Cross murmured.

  Juan smiled. “Her birthday is Wednesday.”

  “It is.”

  “I would like to take her out on Saturday, if you didn’t mind, I mean.”

  Cross chuckled dryly. “Minding is a matter of semantics. I will always mind the thought of someone dating my daughter, but … I also don’t get a choice about the fact that she’s going to grow up, and do her own thing.”

  “You did let her date other people these last couple of years.”

  He couldn’t have missed the heat in Juan’s words if he tried. Jealous, if Cross ever heard it. The thickness of Juan’s jealousy colored his words heavily.

  The young man didn’t realize that he really had no reason to be jealous. Yes, Cece had been allowed to have boyfriends … but better she learned to cut her teeth on a boy she would dispose of than a man who had loved her since she was just a girl.

  Because Cross was not stupid.

  He knew.

  Juan loved his girl.

  He had loved her for a long time.

  “Not like this,” Cross returned. “Boys her own age—supervised by my men, when needed. Never in a setting where a boy could drive her anywhere. They were never old enough to have a license, after all. Do you think that wasn’t intentional on my part? I am not a stupid man, Juan. I have lived far more years on this earth than you have. I called those boys toys for her because that’s how she treated them, and that’s fine. Is that what you want to be, too—her toy?”

  Juan’s gaze flashed with something dark.

  Cross smirked.

  “No, I don’t want to be her toy,” Juan replied quietly.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “So …”

  “So?” Cross asked.

  Juan laughed. “You’re not going to make this easy on me, huh?”

  “Not in the least. Ask properly.”

  “Could I take Cece out this coming weekend, Cross? I would appreciate your blessing, and permission.”

  “A date, you mean.”

  Juan shook his head, grinning. “Yeah, a date.”

  “To where?”

  “I was thinking Niagara Falls, actually.”

  Cross nodded. “Nice.”

  “Is that a yes, then?”

  “One moment.”

  Cross pulled out the drawer in his desk that kept his weapons safely hidden away. He pulled out each one that was inside—a glock, an eagle, and another small handgun that was practically useless unless it was shot at close range.

  He set each of the weapons on the other side of the desk one by one. It forced Juan to take a good l
ook at each thing as Cross took his sweet ass time putting them out.

  “Pick one,” Cross said, leaning forward on the desk.

  “Pardon?”

  “Pick a gun. Whichever one you like the most, I guess.”

  Juan cocked a brow, but gestured at the eagle. “That one.”

  “Good choice.”

  “It’s a dangerous gun.”

  “It is,” Cross agreed. “And if you hurt my child, or if you return her to me—at any point in her life—in less than perfect condition, this is the gun I will ram down your throat before I pull the trigger.”

  Juan straightened in the chair.

  Cross smiled. “Do you understand me?”

  “Yeah, I got it.”

  “You sure?”

  Dark brown eyes lifted to meet Cross’s.

  “I’d probably do it for you,” Juan murmured.

  Yeah, Cross knew that, too.

  “Good talk, Juan,” he said. “Good talk.”

  “Cross?”

  Cross looked away from the card game he was currently having with his father, and father-in-law to find his wife standing in the kitchen entryway of their home. Catherine leaned in further with a smile, and a little nod.

  “Juan is outside,” Catherine said. “Are you going out to talk to him again, or are you good with letting Cece—”

  “She’s good to go,” Cross said with a little wave. “Juan and I have talked.”

  Smirks passed between the men at the table. All except for one, but he wasn’t quite a man yet.

  Nazio, that was.

  Their resident twelve-year-old genius just scowled.

  Cross ignored his son, and went back to his wife. “Tell Cece to stop by and say goodbye to me before she goes, babe.”

  “All right.”

  Really, Cross just wanted to see his daughter before she went off on her first date with Juan. Give her a kiss. Reassure himself that she would be fine.

  Of course, Cece would be fine. She was far too much like her mother and grandmother—with a good dose of her father, too—to be anything but fine. Cece could more than handle herself in a bad situation.

  And … well, she was sixteen.

  Cross’s daughter had started having boyfriends around fourteen, or so, but nothing that had ever been serious, and she never really seemed very interested. It seemed like his only daughter was waiting on something.

  Or rather, someone.

  Juan Lopez.

  Cross wasn’t too concerned about Juan and Cece finally beginning their … thing. The two had certainly waited long enough, and Cross was more than aware that Juan had been very careful to respect Cross’s choices and requests about his daughter. Hell, the two worked together at times—like Miguel and Catherine did—but Juan’s interest in Catherine’s business only went as far as Cece’s involvement a lot of the time.

  Funny how that worked.

  With Catherine gone from the kitchen, the card game continued.

  “Talked to the boy, did you?” Dante asked, smirking.

  “Kind of like the way you talked to me,” Cross replied.

  Kind of.

  Calisto passed a look between the two men. “I’m sorry—at some point you had a chat with my son when he was a teenager?”

  Dante’s gaze never left the cards in his hands. “Yes, he was pursuing my daughter, and had the arrogance of a … well, you know how he was, Cal.”

  “And how did this talk go down, exactly?”

  “He took me into a soundproofed room in the basement,” Cross said, “and threatened me.”

  Dante grinned. “Fun times.”

  That was one way to put it. Now that Cross was the man on the other side of that equation—the father of a daughter being pursued—he understood exactly why Dante had done that to a younger him.

  And he didn’t blame the man.

  “Anyway,” Cross said, throwing his hand of cards down to fold them, “if anything, that memory of Dante and I gave me an idea for Juan when he requested to take Cece out.”

  Chuckles passed around the table.

  All except for a still-scowling Nazio.

  “I still don’t like this,” Naz grumbled.

  Cross rolled his eyes upward. “You don’t have to like it, Naz.”

  “She’s not even going to have a chaperone!”

  “She doesn’t need one.”

  “And what if they—”

  “Shut up, Naz,” Cross interjected with a smile. “You do not get to decide when your sister can date, or whom she can date, for that matter. We have talked about this again and again. What I told you has not changed.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Nope.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t even start,” Cross warned.

  His too-smart-for-his-own-good son glowered. Laughter from the other men at the table colored up the kitchen once more.

  The sound of heels clicking against hardwood floors quieted them all. Soon, sixteen-year-old Cece strolled into the room looking every inch the princess that was nearly a queen. Catherine followed close behind their daughter.

  Cross smiled at Cece when she came to a stop at his chair—the head of the table in his own home, always. He expected his girl to be done up in a dress with full hair and makeup as she usually did.

  Instead, she was just as beautiful in skinny jeans, a blouse, with her hair in loose waves, and just a little bit of red to color her lips.

  “Well?” Cece asked.

  Cross reached for his daughter, and pulled her in close enough to kiss her forehead. “You look beautiful. Have a good time.”

  Cece beamed. “Thanks, Daddy.”

  A horn honked outside the Newport home.

  “Go,” Cross said. “I think you—” And me, he added silently. “—have probably made him wait long enough.”

  “Okay.”

  Cece gave him a kiss to his cheek, and then headed toward the kitchen entryway where her mother was still waiting. She just made it to there when Cross called over his shoulder, “And do make sure Juan hasn’t forgotten my little chat with him.”

  His daughter sighed. “Yes, Daddy.”

  Cece was not out of the house more than two seconds before Naz huffed, and stood from his chair. Naz, too, left the kitchen without a word.

  Catherine took her son’s spot at the table. “He’s really not happy with this whole Cece going out on dates, is he?”

  “Well, at least he managed not to say something to Cece,” Calisto said.

  Cross glanced at his father. “Wait for it.”

  “What?”

  He knew his son well.

  Too well.

  Once, Cross had been Naz … in a way.

  Cross held up a single hand, and started counting down fingers silently like they were seconds.

  Five.

  Four.

  Three.

  Two.

  One.

  The back door slammed.

  Catherine looked at Cross with a raised brow. “Did he just—”

  “Wait for it,” Cross repeated.

  The sound of the garage door opening whispered through the wall.

  Cross gave his son credit.

  Naz didn’t try to be quiet.

  “He’s not seriously stealing one of your cars, is he?” Dante asked.

  Cross gave his father-in-law a smirk. “I did.”

  “Pretty regularly, too,” Calisto added in a mutter.

  “And,” Cross said, “Naz can take cars apart—you think he can’t drive them, too?”

  “He’s going to be so pissed,” Catherine said.

  Yep.

  Cross started counting down again—this time, out loud. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two … one.”

  The front door slammed shut. The stomp of footsteps followed before Naz came into view of the kitchen entryway. Almost six feet tall, and pissed all over.

  It was amusing.

  In a way …

&n
bsp; “What did you do to the fucking cars, Dad?”

  “Took the spark plugs out,” Cross returned. “You might be a fucking genius, but you came from me, principe. You’re going to have to up your game to trick me.”

  Naz glared. “Where are the spark plugs?”

  “Right—I’m not telling you that.”

  His son kept glaring.

  Cross just smiled. “I told you—let your sister have her date. If I have to live through this hell, then so do you.”

  “Cross!” Catherine admonished.

  He shrugged.

  Where was the lie?

  The Husband

  Catherine POV

  “What are you doing?”

  Catherine continued dumping clothes into the washer. “Putting a load of clothes into the wash.”

  Another load.

  “What does it look like, Cross?”

  “It looks like something we hire the maid to do, Catty.”

  Catherine shot her husband a look. “Except we have an eighteen and fourteen year old who both like to change clothes twice a day—more sometimes for Cece. And you—”

  “I don’t change my clothes twice a day!”

  “No, but you can’t seem to find the laundry basket, either.”

  Cross quickly snapped his lips shut at that. He couldn’t deny it was true. Staying silent was his second-best defense.

  “We do have a maid that comes in twice a week to help with all of this, though,” Cross pointed out. “You clean before the woman ever even gets here. What are we paying her for again?”

  “She dusts well. I hate dusting. It’s well worth the cost.”

  “We pay her to dust.”

  “She does it especially well, though.”

  Cross nodded. “Probably because it’s literally the only thing she has to do when she comes here.”

  “And your point is …?”

  Her husband rolled his eyes, but smirked all the same. “Fine, babe. Whatever you say.”

  “Cece also dropped off two bags of clothes she wanted washed. Figured I should get them done before I head to Cali next week since you still don’t know how to run this washer, and all.”

  “Hey—”

  “I joke,” Catherine interjected, smiling.

  Cece was trying the whole college thing. Catherine could see the same disinterest she once showed for college reflecting back from Cece. She had to let her daughter figure it out on her own, though. That way, Cece wouldn’t have any regrets about her choices in the end.