Budding
Chapter Six
That potent smell, that Catherine and Warrick knew so well, even after two months, leaked into their opened window. The magnolias were budding, and the trees on which they grew were everywhere in New Orleans.
Catherine stirred and slowly opened her eyes. When she adjusted to the sunlight, she opened her eyes wider. She cuddled closer to Warrick as she felt his hold around her waist tighten a bit. Her nightshirt had ridden up a bit from sleep, and his hand was laying on the skin of her abdomen, just below her bare breasts.
She felt him stirring more and she turned to face him.
"Good morning," she whispered.
"Good morning," he said, rolling over to look at the clock. "Seven thirty," he grumbled.
"We don't have to be anywhere until late tonight," Catherine whispered as she snuggled even closer to him, running her leg over his.
"Don't do that," he said, still trying to wake up.
She smiled and continued to rub her leg up and down. She was even closer to him, and she was kissing his neck and chest.
"And you call this cuddling?" He asked, now very awake.
"Mmhm," she muttered as she kissed him. "I love you."
"I love you too," he said before gently pushing her onto her back and getting on top of her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. He pushed her shirt up more and caressed her body. He began to kiss her neck and she arched into him, moaning in pleasure.
"I want to make love to you so bad," Catherine groaned.
Warrick stopped kissing her and looked into her eyes.
"Right now?" He asked.
Catherine closed her eyes and sighed. "I want to, but I think we should wait a little longer," she said.
"I'm following your lead," Warrick said as he pushed a strand of hair from her face. "Whenever you're ready, I'll be ready."
They kissed again.
***
Catherine checked herself in the mirror once again. She added a little more cover up to the love bite on her neck. Warrick was an excellent kisser, and even though he left a few nasty love bites on various parts of her body, she couldn't deny that it felt good.
"Ready?" He asked as he finished buttoning up his shirt.
"Yeah," she said, giving herself another once over.
"You look fine girl," he said. "You don't have to keep on making sure."
"Really?" She asked. "I don't look too plain do I?"
"No," he said, gently drawing her near him. "You look beautiful."
"You're such a charmer," she said as she leaned up and kissed him. "Okay, let's go."
The restaurant they went to was quiet and romantic. But they weren't there to have a nice dinner with each other. They were there to do some business and get a rundown of the next two weeks. They walked to their table hand in hand, and they got stares from some of the other patrons of the restaurant.
Warrick pulled out the chair for Catherine and she smiled up at him. Warrick was ever the gentleman.
He sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. They said hi to the couple next to them.
The couple was staring at them in a not so friendly or approving way.
"Waiter," the woman said. "May we please have another table?"
"Isn't this the table that you reserved?" The waiter asked.
"Yes," the woman said. "But it's uncomfortable here all of a sudden."
"Okay," the waiter said.
Catherine and Warrick looked at each other.
"I guess we must be a problem," she said. "It's a shame how people hold on to their prejudices."
They were very much aware of why they were getting stares; they wouldn't let it bother them because it didn't matter what race or creed they were. As long as they were together, that was all that mattered.
They waited and talked about various things for twenty minutes more until they spotted their correspondent, the mysterious man that they had been speaking to for weeks.
"We'll talk about that later," Warrick whispered in her ear, making her smile and blush.
The skinny but toned man donned a very expensive Armani suit complete with cuff links and the shoes to boot, and suddenly, Catherine and Warrick felt self conscious in their casual chic.
"Warrick and Catherine?" He asked as he sat down.
"Yeah," Warrick said.
"Nice to meet you," he said in a professional tone laced with a deep southern accent. "I'm Orson Pascal."
"Hi," Catherine and Warrick said.
"Well, let's get down to business, shall we?" Orson started with a smile. He opened his briefcase and took out a couple of file folders. One for each of them.
Catherine and Warrick opened up their files.
"These are your new identities to handle this," he explained. "Tomorrow morning I'll take you to this guy who'll take your pictures. He'll make you look like totally different people. You not only have a new name, but you have a new address, new city, and new clothes."
"We have to go through all this?" Catherine asked.
"Unless you want people to recognize you," Orson said. "Listen, I'm trying to help you. You two are sitting on a gold mine of evidence in this case, and both the defense and the prosecution want it. They just upped the price. All you have to do is say yes, hand over what's needed to both sides, and you'll fly back to Vegas wealthier people."
Catherine and Warrick looked at each other with uncertainty.
"Look, you guys said you wanted to do this," Orson said. "I'm with you one hundred percent. I want that bastard put away as bad as you do. This is the only way to do it."
They looked at Orson, then back at each other and the linked their hands and squeezed them.