Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 75: Come Home
Karl

Abby’s face looks apprehensive, which was exactly what I feared.

When my secretary called me last week to come home for a pack meeting, my original plan was to slip

back home on the day of the meeting and come back to the city without uttering a word. I wanted to just

get my duties over with and return to my task of trying to win Abby back, but plans have changed.

After everything that’s happened recently, I want her by my side. And although I won’t admit it, in a

selfish way, I want her to see our old home and remember what we had together. Maybe then we can

move things forward.

“Well?” she asks, narrowing her eyes. “Tell me. What’s the catch?”

I pause, choosing my words carefully. “I have to go back to my pack this weekend for a meeting. It’s

family stuff, council discussions, you know. The usual.” I hesitate, reading her face, which now shows a

mix of curiosity and guardedness.

“And…?”

“And… I’d like you to come with me.”

The sudden stillness in her eyes, the subtle twitch of her lips, tells me this isn’t what she expected.

“Karl, you know I have responsibilities here, right? There’s the restaurant first and foremost, and

beyond that, I have to practice for the cook-off.”

“Yeah, I know. But look, it’s a weekend. We’d be back first thing Sunday morning. The restaurant can

manage without you for two days, and as for the cook-off…” I grin, trying to channel some semblance

of charm into my plea, “you can practice in my kitchen. I’ve got it all set up—really, anything you’d

need.”

Her eyes narrow, but not dismissively. She’s considering it, I can tell. I can still remember how much

she loved our old kitchen; she was the one who designed it, after all.

complete with two

pantry

day, cooking up some new concoction or baking

my staff put on weight while she was living there

goodie

collecting dust. I’ve hardly

I’ve had the

she decides

her head decisively. “It’s not a good idea. Karl, we talked about this. The two

us being there again…”

was about to

complicated than they already are. Duh. That

that to

I say, trying to sound casual. “I had the guest room all set up for you. Remember how

room? Your own private balcony and an

few moments as recognition flashes through her eyes. The guest

she adored. She always loved showing it

fight or when she wasn’t feeling well, she even

terse, and she ends the sentence by finishing off

drink.

off guard by her intuition, I chuckle, still trying to sound

“What do you really want

oddly empty and sad. Just

always been top notch. And before I can say

“Karl, we can’t…”

of my whiskey to steady

trying to get anything

Thought it would be

my

Ouch. Her words sting.

our eyes locked in a sort of silent

bad. What is it that I’m really asking of her? A journey

a chance to share a part of my life that’s been so far

than that—a desire to show her off to my pack, to say, “Look,

again.”

finally murmurs. “But right

the very least.”

hide the flicker of disappointment that

be leaving

whiskey, Abby slides off her stool and puts on her jacket, offering me

parts warmth and uncertainty. “Good