Kat, Knight Watch (Iron Orchids Book 11)

by Danielle Norman

  “Is something wrong?” I turned at the deep Southern drawl and came face-to-face with a god. No, not God as in a capital G, but a god as in a man who looked as if he’d fallen from heaven after being kissed by angels. The man was well over six feet, with what I would call strawberry-blond hair, emerald-green eyes, beautiful honey-colored skin, and was wearing a suit.

  Nope. I would not be distracted by hotness.

  I tapped my foot. “You want to help? Get this damn machine to give me my card back and my money.”

  He had a smirk on his face. A smirk. What? Did he think this was funny? “Let me have a look.” He stepped up next to me, and I inhaled. No, I wasn’t a freak. I was a woman who hadn’t been laid in over a year. I was also a cop, and as such, the thing I had noticed before his looks or delicious scent was his name tag, which told me he was Jackson Boudreaux, General Manager, Southern City Bank. It was the only reason I was allowing him anywhere near the ATM that currently displayed my account information.

  He studied the screen and then pressed a few buttons, but nothing happened.

  “See what I mean?” I tapped my foot even louder just in case he hadn’t gotten the hint that time was ticking.

  He was still smirking when he glanced at my foot. “So, are you reemphasizing the fact that you’re in a hurry, or are you tap dancing to a song in your head?”

  “Sorry, I’m being rude.”

  “I know things like this are frustrating, and as I said, I’ll help you. Unfortunately, I can’t access the machine, we have a service that handles it.”

  “But my information—” He held up one hand and stopped my next tirade without so much as faltering his sexy-as-fuck smile.

  “I can turn the machine off, and if you’ll follow me inside, I will get you a temporary card and get your cash withdrawal for you.”

  “It won’t take too long, will it?”

  “Not long at all.” He scanned my body up and then down. That simple gesture sent chills through me, and I quivered. “Still on duty?”

  This man was so gorgeous that everything he asked took me twice as long to answer because I had to take my eyes off his mouth just saying the damn words to answer him.

  I took a deep breath and gazed into his gorgeous eyes. He wasn’t looking at the machine anymore, nope, he was staring straight at me like he was waiting for me to say something.

  “Huh?”

  “I asked if you were still on duty. You know, since you’re still in uniform.”

  “Oh, yeah. I mean no.” I pinched my lips together and told myself to stop being an idiot. Then I tried again. “I mean, I’m off duty, but I have to be somewhere, so I still have to head home and change first.”

  “Let’s go then, I’ll make it fast.” Something inside me wanted to tell him not to make it too fast. I wanted him to go slow, real slow, like all-night-long kind of slow. Screw meeting up with my friends.

  Shit, damn, get your mind out of the gutter, Kallista Theresa Lappis.

  Yes, I used my full name when I was reprimanding myself, much like my mana did. “I haven’t even introduced myself, I’m Jackson Boudreaux. I’m the general manager of this branch.”

  I pointed to his name tag. Gave him my most flirtatious smile. “Yeah, I read.” He was gorgeous, and if anyone asked me to describe what he looked like, I would have told them that he looked like my next one-night stand.

  Jackson held the door open for me and then waved one arm toward an office off to his left.

  The bank was sterile; in fact, it had the cookie-cutter look of all banks. No matter which bank or branch, they all had the same feeling. I looked around and knew without a shadow of a doubt that George Orwell must have based the concept of his novel 1984 on banks, with the whole ‘Big Brother is watching.’

  “Would you like some water or coffee?”

  I turned my attention back to the hottie. “No, thanks.”

  “Very well, have a seat.” He pointed to a chair in front of his desk before moving to take his seat. “What’s your social security number?” I told him my number as I reached into my front lapel pocket to pull out my cardholder and then slid my license out so I could hand it to him.

  He didn’t take it, instead he pointed to my name tag. “I read.” He imitated my flirtatious tone from earlier. Was he flirting with me? I so needed to be flirted with.

  “Kallista. I don’t think I’ve heard that name before. It’s beautiful.”

  “Thanks. It’s Greek.”

  “Ahh, yes, Lappis, that definitely, now I see.” Jackson locked his kind eyes on me, and I was forced to look away or I’d be ditching tonight’s plans in exchange for staying here and staring at him. “It looks like you were trying to withdraw a hundred, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Got it. Now, for the new card.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a bank slip and a debit card. He typed away before filling out the form and sliding a keypad over to me. “I need you to enter a four-digit pin number.” I typed. He tapped on his computer. “Okay, enter it again.” I did. “Voila, that is it, we’re done. This is your temporary card. Your new one should be in within ten days. Both will use the pin number you just entered. Here is your withdrawal slip, take it to the counter, and they will get your money for you.”

  I reached for the paper but couldn’t take my eyes off the man. When our hands touched, I couldn’t explain it, but there was this feeling. I’d read about it a million times, and I’d seen a million movies where the couple jerks away from each other after they touch, but we didn’t do that. We froze as we both tried to process what was going on.

  He stood and was the first one to break the physical contact before he moved to open his office door. I took that as my cue to leave, but I had no clue what I was waiting for. It wasn’t as if we had some instant connection and he was going to close the blinds and jump my bones.

  “Thanks, Mr. Boudreaux. Louisiana by chance?”

  “Born and bred Cajun.”

  “Well, thanks again,” I said before I headed to an open counter and exchanged my slip of paper for my money.

  I was slipping it into my front breast pocket when I glanced to the left, and once again, my eyes were locked with Jackson’s. I gave him one of those small waves before pushing through the glass doors and stepping out into the parking lot.

  “What the fuck?” I looked around but didn’t see anyone. Approaching the mess, shivers went down my spine. It was the same feeling that Yiayia used to say was someone walking across her grave. I looked around once more; I had a weird vibe someone was watching me.

  I knew it was probably teenagers, but it still grated to see trash thrown on and around my bike. When I was still a road deputy, I came out of a 7-11 once and found a plastic pig on my car. Really? Who just so happens to carry a plastic pig with them? I’d had donuts left on the hood of my cruiser, and each time that happened, I’d tossed them in the nearest trash. It reminded me of the South Park episode for Yelp reviewers when they all sing Boogers and Cum as they put it on people’s food. Ooooo, gag.

  I used the back of my hand to sweep all of the fast-food remnants off my bike then scanned the area once again, wondering if I should bother getting the security footage to see who’d done it. In the scope of things, this was low on the totem pole and would get dropped before ever seeing a court. I quickly strapped on my helmet and straddled my bike.

  It only took me about five minutes to get home. I immediately wished that I would have skipped coming home, which I’d have done had I known what awaited me there. I walked into the house and was engulfed by chaos. “What is this, Project Runway?” I asked as I tried to maneuver around boxes and dresses.

  “Umm, no, more like Prom Runway,” Galena whispered. “They’ve been here since three.” She gave me a forced smile, and I fought to hold back a laugh because it was well past seven at night. “There’s food on the stove and I have an open bottle of wine, help yourself and come save us,” Galena said, but it was definitely more
of a plea.

  “Kat!” Thalia hollered.

  “Kat, which one do you like better?” Alyssa shouted even louder. “This black one, the red, or the blue?” She held up three different dresses.

  “I like the blue one, it matches your eyes.”

  “But the black makes me look so grown up.”

  “Then why did you ask me if you already knew that you wanted the black one?” I moved into the large family room, which had at least a dozen other dresses in it. “Where did all of these come from?”

  “Cousin Ariel and Sophie,” Thalia and Alyssa said in unison. “They were old bridesmaid dresses they’ve worn.”

  “These came from Ringo.” Thalia pointed to three gowns in open garment bags lying across the back of the couch.

  “Of course they did.” I smiled at the thought of my baby sisters wearing dresses from Ringo. He may be a family friend, but he was a flamboyant drag queen, so his taste tended to be much more . . . how shall I say it . . . eccentric.

  “Why don’t you each put on your very favorite while I go change because I have to head out, but I want to see before I leave.”

  “Okay.” Alyssa and Thalia immediately started stripping out of what they were wearing as I headed toward the stairs to where my temporary bedroom was.

  “Smooth, real smooth. I love how you get yourself out of this, I need to learn your tricks,” Petra whispered as she walked past me on her way to refill her wine glass. “Oh, forgot to tell you that Mana wants you to call her. Mrs. Poppodopolous’s nephew is visiting, and she thought you would be great for him.”

  “Me? Why me?”

  “Because he’s twenty-eight. Sorry, chica, but this one is yours; the older ones get pushed on Galena and me, the younger ones on Thalia and Alyssa. Take one for the team.”

  “I have a better idea. When she asks, just tell her I didn’t come home and you haven’t seen me. Deal?”

  “Yeah, she’ll buy that. Twenty bucks to either of those loud mouths”— she pointed to Thalia and Alyssa— “and she’ll know the whole truth. Hell, for all I know, she has this place bugged.”

  “Truth!” Galena shouted. “The woman is scary.”

  “Okay, then I’ll just forget all on my own. I have to go change; I’m meeting the girls tonight.” Pulling out my phone, I sent a text to Piper.

  Me: Running a little late. Day from hell. Need alcohol.

  Piper: We just got here, so come when you can.

  Me: Changing then gonna call an Uber so I can drink.

  I dropped my phone onto the bed and moved to my nightstand and unlocked it. Okay, it wasn’t really a nightstand. It was a fire safe with a lamp and my iPhone cord lying on top, but whatever. I secured my firearm inside and then grabbed my small, concealed carry to slip into my purse.

  Quickly, I changed into jeans and a blouse and then tried to do something with my hair before brushing on some mascara and lip gloss. Once I was mostly presentable, I grabbed my purse, ordered an Uber, and headed downstairs to see the girls’ dresses.

  My heart, ahh. I patted my chest. My sisters may pair off a lot, and many times I’d felt like the odd one out, but at times like this, we were inseparable.

  “You two are gorgeous. But you look way too old for high school.” My younger sisters smiled. “Only one question, what’s Pop gonna think?”

  They both groaned.

  “Been there,” Galena laughed.

  “Done that,” Petra snorted.

  “Got the battle scars to prove it,” I said as I fought to hold back my laugh. “When’s prom anyway?” I asked.

  “In April,” Galena answered when neither Thalia nor Alyssa gave me the answer.

  “Oh my god, that is two months away. You two are here all the friggin’ time. You’ll change your minds a hundred times before then and probably your dates as well.” I waved them off and headed out.

  Kat

  I walked into Sixes, our hangout for most of the law enforcement and fire departments in our area, and then headed toward the corner.

  “Kat’s here!” Harley shouted. “Already ordered you a vodka-cran, drink up.”

  “Thank you.” I took a seat between Piper and Bridget.

  “Drink slow, they are short-handed tonight, so we told Vivian we’d be patient,” Piper said.

  “No problem.” Most nights, it was just the girls and me, but once in a while, others would join us. Tonight, it seemed as if the entire motors squad was here.

  “Before telling us about your shitty day, anything good happen?” Sadie, ever the optimist, asked.

  “I met the hottest man ever. He made me want to do things to him that are probably still illegal in many states.”

  “Gross, will you shut up down there? Kat, I still see you as a kid. Now, I need bleach for my ears,” Kayson said. He was not only my lieutenant but also pretty much my big brother. Our moms grew up together, and they had been best friends all their lives.

  I lowered my voice. “Anyway, he was hot.”

  “As in I want to see more of him?” Bridget asked.

  “As in I want to see more of him with no clothes on for one night and then be done with him. Besides he has a mark.” I used my left thumb to tap my left ring finger at the base.

  “You think he’s married and takes it off?” Harley asked. “Asshole.”

  “Or divorced and was devoted for a long time, those marks—” Piper commented, and I nodded because she had a point.

  “You know, ever since you and Liam got together, you are a tad too optimistic for me.” I smiled and then squeezed her hand. “Those marks left from a ring are scars. No thank you, not for me, no time for baggage. I’m strictly a buy what you need when you get there kind of girl.”

  “Did you at least get his number?” Sadie asked

  “No, but I know where he works.” Something Harley did caught my attention. “What’s she doing?” I whispered to Piper.

  “Who?” Piper asked.

  “Harley.”

  “No clue.”

  I leaned over to Bridget. “What’s Harley doing?”

  “No clue, but watch her face. Every now and then she cracks a smile.”

  Harley glanced up and stared at me with a ‘shut the fuck up’ look. “Shhh.” She slid her phone over to Sadie, who passed it to Bridget, who passed it to me. Piper leaned in, and I read.

  “It’s the lyrics to ‘Low’ by Flo Rida, why?”

  Harley leaned closer. “I dial random people and drive them crazy until I see if they catch on. Look at how many finally texted back ‘low, low, low, low, low.’”

  I got out of her current message and looked. “There are like fifty here.”

  “Yep, keeps me entertained.”

  “Shit.” Piper pointed.

  “Umm, you don’t always aggravate random people?” I read off the names. “Kayson, Carter, Callum, Aiden, Eli . . .”

  “Wait,” Bridget interrupted. “You text my husband and my brothers?”

  Harley shrugged. “It keeps me out of trouble.”

  “And that’s important, I might add.”

  “You should try it, really, but block your number first,” Harley instructed.

  “I’ll do it.” I grabbed my phone and texted Max, one of the motors guys who wasn’t at the bar with us, a line from Carly Rae Jepsen’s song “Call Me Maybe.”

  Max: Who is this?

  I texted the next line in the song.

  Max: What the fuck?

  A few words at a time, I continued.

  Max: Stop.

  Max: Who is this?

  Max: Not funny.

  Max: This is stupid.

  Max: Haha, I see what you’re doing.

  Max: I miss you . . .

  “He did it! Boom.” I danced a little in my chair. “You’re right, this is entertaining.”

  “I know, right?”

  Sadie got up and moved to the bar to talk with Danny, the bartender, while we put our phones away. I watched her from the corner of my eye while s
he headed to the jukebox, punched in a few songs, then grabbed a tray of shot glasses and four pitchers of beer from Danny and came back to us.

  “So, you had a rough day?” she asked.

  “More like frustrating. I’ve moved in with Galena and Petra.”

  “That’s not so bad,” Bridget offered.

  “Have you met my in-your-face, you-have-no-privacy family? Yeah, this is bad. I need to look up the owner of my former apartment complex and give you all the make and model of his car plus tag his license plate in the system. That way if you run across him you can pull him over and ticket him. I just want to screw him like he’s screwed me.”

  Piper laughed. “Umm, did he literally screw you and it was so bad you want revenge, or did he screw you over?”

  “Screwed me over, decided to convert apartments into condos. I didn’t want to buy, at least not there. And it is a minimum of a one-year waitlist for one-bedroom apartments right now. Spring Term just began and students from UCF and all of the surrounding schools plus Disney’s college work program all just started.”

  “That sucks,” Sadie sighed.

  “Tell me about it. Oh, and now my mother can keep tabs on whether I’m dating or not and she is trying to fix me up with every nice Greek boy she finds. Only good part, I met a sexy-as-fuck guy who I wanted to ride like a Harley. But then it fell to shit because I was in uniform and he’s the new manager at my bank.”

  “Sucks, that would be awkward unless you want to change banks.” I nodded in agreement. “Grab a glass, our songs should be starting soon. Then bring a pitcher close to you. I just played this at one of Ryan’s coworker’s house. First up is ‘Roxanne,’ and every time you hear her name, you have to drink. Then we’ll do ‘Jamming’ by Bob Marley.”

  “We should really have some bud if we’re going to listen to Bob,” Piper added in.

  “Did you forget you’re a cop?”

  “No, but it seems fitting, right? I mean, wasn’t he the biggest pothead ever?”

  “He was,” Bridget said before turning to me. “So, is that really why you had a bad day, because of your intrusive family and not being able to hook up with some hot guy?”