Not Quite Mine
Page 65

Watching Katie with Savannah proved that being a parent had more to do with your heart than it did with DNA.
It was then he realized that he could easily see himself as a full-time dad, a father to Savannah, and not just on a temporary basis.
It was too soon to push Katie into a deeper commitment. And without the private detective determining some answers, she wouldn’t want to make any more changes.
“You’re rushing, Dean,” he scolded himself. The girls had only been living under his roof for a few days and already he was trying to see his face in Savannah’s, and Katie’s life in his, permanently.
They needed to work through a few things before he could jump to the next level. And hadn’t he jumped with Maggie?
No, he’d take this slower. Like the good Southern boy he could be.
When he wanted to.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Patrick called her at work. He was arriving at the hotel and wanted to know if he could meet her there within the hour.
He had information and wanted to deliver it to her in person.
Katie’s hands shook as she spoke quietly into the phone. “Do you know who she is?”
“I need confirmation…but I think you may be able to do that for me. Is your suite being used?”
“No. I’ll call the hotel and tell them to let you in.”
“Good,” Patrick said into the phone. “Oh—and, Katie, come alone.”
Now the hair on the nape of her neck stood on end. Her first thought was to drag Dean along. They were both waiting for this information. They both wanted to know the answers.
“Why?”
“Because you’re my client. And I think it’s in your best interest to hear the news first. Trust me.”
She ran a hand through her hair, something she never did. “OK.”
Patrick hung up and her insides pitched in protest. What does he know? Who is the mom?
Why did he think she could identify the mother?
There obviously had to be some connection to her and maybe even someone else that Monica or Dean could identify. If that were the case, then Patrick was right in her being alone when they spoke.
Katie took advantage of the fact that Dean was busy with an inspector who would monopolize most of his afternoon.
Thirty minutes after Patrick’s phone call, Katie wrote a quick note and posted it on Dean’s phone in his office.
Finished here early. I have a few products I want to see before I order. SYAH.
SYAH was their own acronym for “See you at home.” So far, no one at work knew they had moved in together. It wasn’t a secret that they were seeing each other, but they didn’t go around kissing or fondling at work.
Jo had made a few comments about the two of them being much more relaxed than previous weeks. Katie bunted right back with questions about how Steve Bowman was doing. Jo’s cheeks had grown red and she busied herself with her work and avoided any further comments.
Jo and Steve were obviously into each other, but Katie wasn’t clear if the two of them had even shared a meal outside of the shindig Dean had put on weeks ago. Not that it mattered to her. She and Jo were cordial, but Katie doubted they could be real friends.
Katie drove in silence to the hotel and called ahead to let them know she was coming.
The suite hadn’t changed…yet the marble floors felt cold, the colors of the room sterile. Without family pictures or a few misplaced items filtered about the room, it just wasn’t home.
Dean’s home with its rustic lines and masculine edge made her more comfortable than the finest silk. She wouldn’t mind a few extravagant extras…like a cook and a housekeeper. But those things could wait. Dean had actually talked about live-in help once they had everything with Savannah settled.
That day might be today.
She checked the time on the clock and tapped her foot. The receptionist at the front desk was supposed to call her when Patrick arrived.
As the minutes ticked past the hour he was supposed to get there, her pulse sped up and she started to pace the room.
The knock on her door made her jump.
Katie drew in a deep, calming breath and blew it out slowly before opening the door. She painted on a smile and hoped her nerves didn’t show.
Only the hall was empty.
A sense of déjá vu swam over her. Her gaze snapped to her feet.
There was a note on the floor that read, Look up!
When she did, she noticed a domed camera over her head. A noise drew her attention down the hall. Patrick stood several feet away with his hands tucked into his signature black jacket.
“What’s this?” she asked waving the paper.
“It’s evidence of a flaw in your hotel security.” He pushed away from the wall to join her. “Mind if I come in?”
“Of course not.”
Inside the suite, Patrick removed a seven-inch tablet from an inside pocket of his jacket.
Katie noted the gun he had strapped to his side. A gun she assumed he had, but hadn’t seen until now. She couldn’t help but think he showed it to her now to emphasize his point.
Patrick set the tablet down and picked up the phone on a hall table. He handed her the cordless handset and said, “Call the desk and ask if I’ve arrived.”
Katie’s eyes drew together. “Why?”
“Just do it.”
Katie waited for the receptionist to answer. When she did, her cheerful voice said, “What can we do for you, Miss Morrison.”
“Yes, eh…” She glanced over at Patrick and stuttered, “D-did Mr. Sanderson arrive yet?”