Entangling: Book One of the Kirin Lane Series

by Kelley Griffin

  He climbed into the driver’s side, pulled the seat back to allow for his much longer legs and leaned over her, gently pulling the seatbelt across her lap and buckling her in. Eyes still closed, she muttered, “Thank you.” She could feel his breath on her face. She held hers, still not opening her eyes. He kissed her cheek and started the car.

  Kirin was a lousy drunk. She didn’t remember the car ride home. She didn’t even remember telling him where she lived or pulling up to the driveway. The first thing she remembered after the kiss was Sam taking her seat belt off and guiding her from the car to the porch. His strong arms around her waist. Inebriated, Kirin talked aimlessly, giggled, or fell dead asleep. Lousy drunk.

  Much to her own amusement, she told Sam the correct key to open the door was the “silver one.” After her short giggle fit, they finally made it inside.

  God love him. He carried her, her shoes, her purse, and sweater along with her bundle of keys, all through the door. Once inside, she stumbled toward the kitchen bragging she could whip something up for him to eat. As she tripped over a toy of Little Jack’s, she almost took a header right into the stove. Sam caught her, assuring her he wasn’t hungry. He picked her up as if she were light as air and carried her toward the stairs.

  Kirin wrapped her arms around Sam’s neck and told him in a loud drunk whisper he was not only handsome, but he had the best smelling shirts of anyone she’d ever met. Kirin dropped her head on his shoulder and took in a big whiff of his clean fresh shirt and then promptly passed out.

  The last thing she remembered was more like a dream and it was his hearty laugh and then another kiss on her cheek.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When she woke, the world was too bright. Kirin’s head pounded and her teeth felt like they had socks over them. Her thoughts ran through the events of the night before: sitting at the bar, waiting for hours, and feeling dejected. And Sam rescuing her once again.

  Sam. He’d put her to bed.

  Immediately she sat up. Her face burned hot. With one eye squeezed shut and dreading what she saw, Kirin glanced down. Luckily, her shoes were the only thing on the floor.

  Whew. Breathe. He’d only covered her up. She cringed. How pathetic she must’ve looked waiting in a bar for a blind date and drunk off her gourd. She made a mental promise to never drink that much, ever. And to apologize profusely if she ever saw him again. Even more disturbing to Kirin was the guy she was supposed to meet didn’t even bother to call.

  Who does that? Who lets a fragile widow be stood up? Okay, so she wasn’t fragile, but he didn’t know that! The more she thought about it, the angrier she got.

  Until she smelled eggs.

  Momentarily frozen she strained, desperate to hear some shred of evidence of who might be downstairs. Rosa wouldn’t be there, and she hated eggs. Rosa would rather go on a three day shopping trip than cook for Kirin after a night of drinking. Instead, she’d fully enjoy cranking up the TV and the radio and fry smelly fish to teach the drunk a lesson.

  Kirin tiptoed down the hall and crouched at the top of the stairs. She peered into the kitchen. A man stood at the stove, cooking eggs. She slunk back when Sam turned to grab butter from the counter. Kirin rose without a sound and snuck back into her room.

  He stayed. Sam stayed. She clapped her hands silently and grinned ear to ear.

  She tiptoed to the bathroom and about fainted when she saw her reflection.

  My God. She looked like she felt, which was scary. With quick movements, she changed her clothes, washed her face, brushed her teeth and hair and rubbed some nice smelling apple lotion on her neck. Kirin’s head throbbed, but she didn’t care. She was half-mortified and half-giddy.

  Breathe. Time to face the music and head downstairs. As she rounded the bottom of the steps, there he stood, smiling as if she was the most beautiful person in the world. Kirin shot him a shy smile, mouthed, “Sorry,” and bolted past him.

  “What for?” he crooned, following her into the kitchen. He stopped and straddled a barstool. Why did he have to look perfect? Fawn-colored hair tousled and sexy. Just-slept-in wrinkled jeans slung low with no shoes on. He looked as if he belonged in a Gap ad, not her kitchen. She had her back to him, facing the coffee pot. It was so much easier than looking him in the eye.

  “For being a drunken basket case that you had to babysit all night,” she said over her shoulder.

  Kirin poured two cups of the fresh coffee he’d made and sat down at the island pushing a cup toward him. She stared into her coffee.

  “I didn’t mind it,” he whispered.

  Kirin glanced up at him. His eyes locked on hers. He smiled, then shifted his eyes toward the back window and out into the forest. His demeanor changed from jovial to serious in a flash. Kirin turned to see what he saw. She only saw her woods.

  “So,” she turned back and narrowed a playful look at him, “Exactly, how did you figure out where I live?” Before he could answer she blurted out, “And I know I was too drunk to tell you!”

  He studied her for a moment then replied, “Your GPS has a home setting. I pressed it and hoped for the best.”

  Sam jumped up from his chair while still talking and dished them both up a huge plate of eggs and toast. Kirin was grateful for the food since she’d drank her dinner the night before. As they ate, her questions continued. “How did you know I was at the restaurant?”

  He took a huge bite and chewed slow before answering. “I was downtown and thought I’d grab a beer, then I spotted you.”

  She chewed for a moment, then asked, “How’d you figure out the alarm code?”

  “You told me that one, Kirin.” He smiled.

  Oh. She could accept that. She’d probably blurted it out. Kirin wondered what else she’d jabbered on about.

  Smirking like he had her at this point in the conversation, he added, “You told me a bunch about yourself last night.” The corners of his mouth turned up while he took a sip of his coffee.

  Oh, Lord. Her face flushed. Her biggest fear was to overshare. She knew she got overly chatty when she drank. Laura and Stacy chided her about spilling all secrets after a few beers on their girls’ night outings.

  Kirin kept her eyes locked on her plate, trying to remain cool. She took a deep breath. “Oh yeah? What did I say?”

  He took another sip. “Let’s see … you told me about your parents, how your mom died, and your dad left. You talked about your boys, Little Jack and Will, and about the creepy black-suited men in the bar, your father’s book, oh, and something about wanting to go out with me.”

  At this last part, he broke into a full-blown smile.

  “I did not say that!” Kirin squealed looking up from her plate. He smiled and shook his head, locking eyes once again.

  “You got me. I actually asked you.”

  “Really?” Was all she could say. After seeing her at her worst and saving her in a parking lot and a bar, she couldn’t believe someone would still want to date her. Especially this handsome man. God, she could fall for this guy.

  Smiling, she corrected him, “I don’t exactly remember doing all of the talking.”

  He looked down and shook his head. Yep, he’d finally spilled a few details about himself while she stared at his beautiful face and forced herself to breathe while sobering up at the bar.

  He’d never been married. Grew up in Colorado but moved to LA when he was seventeen. Both parents were gone, but he had one brother, Seth, who lived with his wife and babies in Illinois. His face scrunched up and turned serious when he mentioned his little brother She got the feeling there was some strife there.

  From what she’d gathered he enjoyed anything if it was outside, like camping, hunting, baseball, and running. He had moved from city to city for his job, but he never mentioned what job sent him on these assignments.

  As they finished their breakfast, sitting close together on the corner of the bar, their conversation turned quiet. Kirin stopped eating and stared at him until he noticed.

/>   “What?”

  “Thank you for saving me … again,” she whispered while keeping his gaze.

  He smiled and placed his warm hand over hers, closing in for a small kiss. Her phone, sitting on the counter, buzzed and ruined it. Stacy wanting the juicy details to her blind date way too early.

  Kirin scooped up the phone and put it on silent. Sam stood and grabbed a dish towel. Kirin gathered dishes and put them in the sink. A small war ensued. They chased each other around the kitchen with wet dish towels, snapping them at each other.

  Why did he bring out the kid in her?

  After they cleaned up, she drove him back to get his truck. When they arrived, Sam leaned over and kissed her cheek. He held her stare and asked, “Wanna meet for lunch Monday? There’s a little sandwich shop downtown I’ve been dying to try. Leroy’s?”

  “Sure,” Kirin nodded, beaming and ignoring her loud heartbeat.

  Finally, a real date with Sam.

  Now, let’s hope this one didn’t stand her up.

  Chapter Fourteen

  At the red light, Sam scrubbed his face. He knew better. Staying over at a target’s house wasn’t something new. But this was more than obligation and he knew it. He’d grown fond of this one. The headstrong way she tackled any problem. And her uncanny ability to fall face first into trouble. But this was reckless. Unchartered territory. Every step in this chess game he played, needed to be carefully thought out and executed. And yet, he found himself flying by the seat of his pants with this woman.

  The old Sam would’ve taken her home, made sure she was safe, retrieved the item he was sent for and vanished. Not stay, make her breakfast and kiss her. He was a damn fool. But, that was the real problem. He couldn’t vanish. And even worse, he didn’t want to.

  And that was the scariest part of it all. He’d always had the perfect excuse to keep his heart closed. He couldn’t get involved. But when she finds out who he really is, what if she decides she doesn’t want him? He’ll be crushed. He already felt more attached to her than anyone in his past.

  His phone buzzed. The boss. Shit. Sam took a deep breath.

  “Agent 4 …”

  “…Yes, sir …No sir, haven’t retrieved it yet … Yes, sir. I’ll stay on it… I understand the importance … by the end of the week, yes sir.”

  ~*~

  Kirin couldn’t have wiped the stupid smile off her face if she wanted. Yes, she fully got that as a single woman it was reckless to let someone she didn’t know very well stay at her house. But … it was Sam. Someone she felt like she connected with on another level. He picked on her and protected her at the same time. She felt safe with him. And as hard as it’d always been for her to trust anyone, somehow he’d broken through that barrier super quick.

  As she drove to her aunt’s house, warning bells went off. Something he’d said as she was sobering up. He’d moved around a lot. At least every two years and he’d been here longer than that. That tugged at her heart. Don’t get involved, her mind said, he won’t be here long.

  She shook it off and pulled up the tree-lined driveway to her aunt and uncle’s right on time. Little Jack and Will came running out as she shut off her car, with Aunt Kathy and Uncle Dean close on their heels.

  Little Jack drew his lightsaber and pushed his Darth Vader mask on top of his head to speak, while Will strutted toward her, too cool to run. His arms were completely filled with a completed Star Wars Lego battleship. He looked so proud. Uncle Dean walked close on his heels, hands out as if he’d catch it if it fell. By the bags under both their eyes, she was sure they’d stayed awake until the wee hours putting it together.

  She could hear them talking before she even opened her door.

  “Mama!” Little Jack squealed. “We made cookies and put together a Darth Vader floor puzzle and watched movies all night!”

  Kirin stepped out and Aunt Kathy squeezed her. “You’re gonna have some tired boys today.”

  Kirin nodded toward her uncle. “Looks like you, too.”

  Uncle Dean nodded in agreement.

  Kirin bent down to look at the battleship Will held. “Wow. How many hours did that take?”

  “Not long,” Will said, “Uncle Dean did most of it.”

  “Not true, boy. All I did were the wings and part of the tail. He’s got an eye for putting things together, K. Maybe an engineer?” Uncle Dean was always trying to pigeonhole a career for Will.

  After placing the battleship on the floorboard as if it were a carton of eggs, the boys ran back inside to grab their bags while she switched over the car seat for Little Jack. Reemerging from the car, her aunt smiled at her, eyebrows up.

  “What?”

  “Good date?” Uncle Dean walked up and interrupted, and then, embarrassed by what the answer might be, turned pink and excused himself to go help the boys pack.

  Aunt Kathy brushed the lock of gray hair out of her eye and chuckled. “Well,” she said, “nice guy?”

  “Hmm. Well, whoever was supposed to meet me for the date decided not to show, but another guy I met in the grocery store happened to walk in, sit with me and take his place.”

  Kirin explained how Sam found her tipsy and took care of her. Conveniently, she left out the part where he’d spent the night. No sense muddying the waters. Even at almost forty, she didn’t want her parents, or aunt and uncle in her case, to think she was a tramp, even if nothing happened. Aunt Kathy listened to her story and agreed whoever the first guy was, he was an inconsiderate idiot.

  “Why don’t you ask Sam to dinner? He and Dean can grill out steaks and we can get to know him.”

  Kirin didn’t even have his number. “Well, we’re not there yet,” Kirin admitted, embarrassed, “But when I get to know him better, I’ll bring him around to meet you guys.”

  The boys and Uncle Dean came outside. After thanking them and hugs all around, the boys climbed into the car. Uncle Dean hugged her especially tight. She looked up at him, puzzled.

  “Be careful and call us if you need anything, okay?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. There was something he wasn’t saying. She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. As she drove home, the boys chatted happily about their stay. They mentioned learning to short sheet a bed and tying rubber bands on the sprayer at the kitchen sink. Pranks they’d learned from Uncle Dean.

  Oh, boy.

  Will hummed as he spoke of the sweet treats Aunt Kathy baked for them. When she turned the corner to pull into their long, gravel driveway, she stopped the car short.

  There, parked in her driveway sat a shiny dark Mercedes. It was backed in and staring at her. Jet black mirrored windows hid any sign of life inside it. Not a speck of dirt anywhere. Panic hung in her throat. Was this one of the men who followed her? Maybe even the creepy leader?

  Did they come to harm her or even worse, the boys? Or did they come for the book?

  Will must’ve sensed her fear. “Mom? Why’d you stop? Whose car is that?”

  “I … I don’t know, honey,” she stammered.

  Slowly, she pulled the car closer but kept the doors locked. She had plenty of gas and nobody could run these East Tennessee back roads faster than her. All the places she could hide ran through her head. Hell, she could drive some of the winding one lane roads up the mountain. They’d never catch her there, and she could lose them. She could outrun them and call the police while she drove. Instinctively, she plugged her phone in and dialed 911, but didn’t hit the send button. Her stomach knotted the closer they crept toward the house.

  They were about halfway down the gravel driveway when she noticed Arthur off to the side, rifle drawn and pointing at a short, thick, balding man in khakis with both hands up in surrender. Arthur’s dog Duke stood a foot in front of the man, hackles up and barking.

  She sped up. As she got closer, she recognized the man’s chubby stance and wrinkled face. It was Walter Blankenship, her father’s attorney. He’d called and left messages for weeks. Gone was the expensive suit an
d worth-more-than-her-car tie he’d worn the day she met him in California. Now, he looked more casual, more human somehow, and he looked terrified.

  Deep breath. Kirin parked to the side, left the car running and locked the kids inside. She ran toward Arthur.

  “What’s going on?”

  Mr. Blankenship was pale and looked like he was about to lose his lunch. “This old guy came out of nowhere! Said he was your bodyguard.” Arthur waggled his eyebrows at her, clearly enjoying this.

  Poor Mr. Blankenship. She’d avoided him for so long, he had to fly in from LA to close out the estate. He looked sad, scared and worn. She inhaled deep, guilt-ridden for having dodged him.

  “It’s okay, Arthur,” she said as she signaled for him to lower his rifle. “I know who he is.”

  Arthur pointed at the man. “This ain’t California, buddy. You can’t just go snoopin’ around somebody's house without attracting attention. You’d do well to remember that.”

  Mr. Blankenship glared at the old man, then nodded. Arthur tipped his hat to Kirin and called to Duke who happily followed him back to his house.

  Kirin shook her head and apologized, then moved her car to the garage and shut off the engine. Mr. Blankenship wiped his face with his sleeve and followed her inside carrying a briefcase.

  “Mr. Blankenship,” she walked into her kitchen as the boys carried their things inside. “I’ve ignored your calls, and you had to come all the way here. This has taken up so much of your time chasing me down. Truly, I’m so sorry.”

  “Ms. Lane, please don’t apologize. I came to settle your father’s estate and give you some news in person. Shall we go out on the porch?”

  “Sure,” she stammered, “and please, call me Kirin. Give me a minute to occupy the boys then I’ll meet you out back.”

  Kirin ran upstairs after the boys when she remembered her manners.

  “Mr. Blankenship?” she called through the hall.

  “Yes,” he answered, sounding bewildered.

  “Can I get you some iced tea?”