Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it! Here's an extra (very short) chapter because I'm feeling super thankful for everyone who keeps reading my stories! (that's a thanksgiving thing, right? To say what you're thankful for? I swear I've seen it in movies haha).
Anyways, I hope you all day a great day whether you're celebrating or not.
Monday seemed to drag on and on and on.
He should have been writing but, since he had lost his dirty cop cover-up storyline, he was struggling to find the motivation to write the alternative: a story that simply wasn't as compelling. He had gone over Pulgatti's letters again, hoping to find some way that he could continue with the near-complete manuscript he had saved on his laptop without putting a target on his back. Pulgatti had seemed so certain, his words echoed in Rick's mind: if you publish this story, if you tell the world what you know, you will be next.
Even if could find a way to effectively disguise the details, to hide his connection to Pulgatti, he couldn't do that to Kate. She knew. She knew that this wild conspiracy had (most likely) led to her mother's death and to see it become sensationalised so that he could add another best seller to his shelves...
No, he wouldn't do that to her.
So, for the umpteenth time today, he read through Pulgatti's earlier letters - the ones that outlined what his role as the family 'fixer' entailed - and extracted information he could twist and exaggerate to create his story's anti-hero.
Starting from scratch when he was supposed to be inching toward the half-way mark was daunting, to say the least, and Gina was starting to get antsy. Yet, Rick couldn't bring himself to feel even the slightest bit of urgency as he flung pencils across the room, trying to hit some imaginary target.
It was only when he heard the soft click of his front door unlocking that he even realised the time.
Martha was... somewhere. Doing something... with someone - he really didn't want to think too much about the details but he had been told not to expect her home tonight - and Alexis spending the night at a friends place, working on some extra-credit project they had elected to work on over the Summer, which could only mean...
He dropped the remaining un-flung pencils to his desk and jumped to his feet, practically running out of his office to confirm his suspicions.
Kate had let herself in - this swapping keys thing really was a great idea - and was toeing off her shoes when she heard him. She looked over her shoulder and smiled.
"I wasn't expecting you yet," he admitted as he rushed over to her. It was just a little past six so she must have left the second her shift ended. "Case closed?"
She nodded and made her way to him, meeting him in the living room.
"Mmhmm," she hummed her confirmation. When he reached for her she draped her arms over his shoulders, crossed her wrists at the back of his neck and leant in for a quick kiss. "Thanks to you."
"So the passport theory-"
"Was spot on," she finished for him, proudly. "I'm thinking maybe I can shrink you and keep you in my pocket, that way you can solve all my cases for me," she joked.
Rick chuckled quietly. "The NYPD's secret weapon: mystery writers."
"Whatever works, I guess," Kate laughed. "How was your day?"
But Rick's mind was too preoccupied by how perfect her laugh sounded, by how sweet her smile was.
"Boring," he mumbled. He tightened his grip on her waist, pulled her close until her body was flush against his. "Missed you," he added in a whisper.
He always missed her when she wasn't around, even if it had only been barely twelve hours since he had seen her.
"I missed you, too," she replied quietly.
Her eyes shined in a way they hadn't last night: relaxed, confident. Most likely due to closing the case, to justice prevailing.
He loved how much she cared, loved how passionate she was.
He leant forward and slanted his mouth over hers, stealing a kiss. A slow, tender kiss; one she welcomed enthusiastically, melting against his touch.
The shift in atmosphere, the shift between them - from playful to tender to passionate - was dizzying, electrifying, intoxicating. She was a rush of adrenaline, a free-fall from an impossible height but when her lips were on his and her hands tangled through his hair, he didn't fear the fall. He knew, without a doubt, that they were learning how to fly.
"Is Alexis home?" Kate asked, breathlessly, against his lips.
Rick shook his head, slid his hands down her back and over the curve of her ass before pulling her hips against his. Words... words just weren't forming; so he hoped that that was a good enough answer for her.
Apparently, it was.
Her hands smoothed over his shoulders, down to his chest, and she pressed, encouraging him to move. His knees hit the couch and he dropped down into the soft cushions. He missed the warmth of her body pressed to his, the feel of her lips against his but when he looked up at her and saw the wicked half-smirk on her face, any complaints had been banished to the furthest corners of his mind.
As she knelt between his knees, a teasing is this how you always celebrate closing a case? bounced around his otherwise empty head, but he never did manage to put that thought into words.
The rest of his night was spent in a haze.
She had that effect on him.
Tuesday morning, Kate had snuck out of bed at some ridiculously early hour.
As usual, she had whispered soothingly to him the moment he began to stir.
"Stay in bed," she urged. "I can see myself out."
She had mentioned last night that she planned to leave early this morning - something about feeling motivated and wanting to squeeze in a gym session before work - but Rick would be lying if he said he hadn't hoped she would lose that motivation over the course of their evening together. Apparently not.
He figured he should take a page out of her book and try to get himself motivated, too. So, he pulled himself out of bed and, while she put on her clothes, he started to make her coffee.
"You don't have to do that," Kate said as she walked out of the bedroom.
Rick poured a shot of vanilla syrup into her to-go cup and stirred the coffee. "Wanted to," he said with a shrug. "Besides, I wasted most of the day yesterday so I need to bunker down and get some actual writing done."
He'd been maybe a little too distracted since he met Kate. It was well past time to get serious about finishing this book.
"I, uh-" Rick wrapped his arms around Kate's waist, held her close. "I usually go a little off the grid when I bunker down. I mean, not literally, but I try to minimise distractions until I reach my goal. No phone, no leaving the loft-"
"So, what you're trying to say is once I walk out that door I won't hear from you until you've finished your book?" Kate surmised.
"Not the whole book," Rick clarified. He wasn't sure if it was for her benefit or his. "But, yes. As soon as you leave I'm going to lock myself in the office with a gallon of coffee and I'm going to type until my fingers bleed or fall off or maybe both."
Kate scrunched up her nose. It was adorable. "Sounds, uh, pleasant."
God, he missed her already.
"Dinner on Friday?"
That felt like a lifetime away. Hopefully luck would be on his side and he'd fall into some sort of writing trance. It had happened before, it could happen again... right?
"Sounds perfect," she agreed. She kissed his cheek.
"I'll let you know if I need a writing break," he said and wriggled his brows suggestively.
Kate laughed and shook her head, then grabbed her coffee from the counter. "I'll be ignoring your messages until Friday."
When Rick's jaw dropped, she sauntered toward the front door.
"Rude," he called out after her.
She looked over her shoulder and smirked. "Call me when you're done and maybe I'll give you a reward for reaching your goal."
"I- okay."
With a flirty wink, she was gone.