Raid - By Kristen Ashley Page 0,75

herself prior to kitty claw laser therapy it was best just to let him have his way, so she didn’t say a word.

Spot behaved himself the entire time.

Seemed the cat liked bicycles.

Go figure.

“Crazy cat,” I muttered, grinning.

I pulled my phone out of the back pocket of my shorts and saw the display.

My grin turned into a huge smile, I took the call and put it to my ear.

“Hey, honey,” I greeted Raid.

“Baby, where are you?” he replied.

“In town outside the vet. Spot’s annual checkup.”

Silence then, “Drop him off and get home. I’m five minutes out of town. I’ll meet you at your place.”

A happy thrill raced through me followed by an excited one.

“No. I’m jumping on my bike now and I’ll meet you at yours,” I told him.

“Hanna—”

“Raiden,” I cut him off. “I’ll meet you at your place, but you have to promise me you’ll go there but won’t go inside. Wait for me.”

More silence then, softer, “Hanna.”

Then nothing but that soft “Hanna” sent another thrill racing through me.

“I’ll pedal fast and me and Spot will be there in ten minutes,” I said.

“You and Spot?”

“He’s in my basket.”

Another period of silence then, shaking with hilarity, “All right.”

“No going inside,” I warned.

“No going inside, baby.”

I mounted my bike. “Right. See you soon. Missed you, honey.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Another thrill.

“‘Bye.”

“Ten, babe.”

He hung up.

I tossed my phone in the basket with Spot.

He looked down at it, turned his kitty face to me and said, “Meow.”

“You can share with the phone, buddy,” I told him.

“Meow.” He didn’t agree.

“Suck it up,” I ordered.

He glared at me then turned to face forward.

I threw back the kickstand, put my feet to the pedals and motored.

* * * * *

The last six weeks, Raid was out of town on jobs for three.

This didn’t stink as much as I thought it would (though it still stunk) because he did what he said he would do.

He touched base with me. Frequently.

This included him calling during the day at random times. It also included him calling every night right before he went to sleep.

The first time he’d woken me when he did this, which was the third time he called me at night.

He’d been upset he’d woken me and murmured, “I’ll call earlier next time.”

“No,” I’d replied sleepily. “I want to know you made it through the day and you’re going to sleep so you’ll wake to face another day. Don’t worry about waking me.”

He’d hesitated and his deep voice was warm and sweet when he agreed, “All right, honey.”

Then he did as I asked, calling every night before he went to sleep.

But when I said he touched base, I meant we talked as in talked.

Surprisingly, even though we’d been through a lot, but still were relatively new thus didn’t know each other all that well and he was a man, he was also a man who could have conversations on the phone. It helped we knew a lot of the same people and he cared about what was happening.

He asked me about my day, my business, what was going on in Willow, what I had planned for the next day and he shared about his. Where he was. What he ate. When he thought he’d be home. Nothing deep about his work but he didn’t keep things from me, including if he was frustrated, leads had dried up, informants were jacking him around or things were taking longer than he thought.

Weirdly, these conversations were getting-to-know-you conversations that, if we were normal, we would have had during dates. He learned about the vacation I took last winter. He learned I loved snowboarding. I learned he hated onions and thought Jerry Seinfeld’s standup routines were funny. And we planned to go to Crested Butte when the snow started falling and to find a beach when winter turned bitter and we needed to escape to the sun.

Needless to say, learning about Raiden and planning getaways and vacations was awesome.

When he was home, life fell into a rhythm. I knitted. I did my thing with Grams. We all went to church and ate breakfast together at the Pancake House. I saw to my business. Raiden saw to his in Denver and in the back room of Rachelle’s Café, where I learned he met with his “crew”, who I did not, however, meet… yet. This last was Raiden’s word when he told me he would introduce me to them when “shit slowed down”. He was also a good neighbor, and at his sister or mother’s request,