by Tami Lund
“Kennedy said it had more to do with money than murder this time.”
“Kennedy’s not supposed to tell anyone I tell her a damn thing about my job. But yeah, she’s right. The general manager at the Lucky Belle thinks some guy from up North is scamming his casino.”
Emily Kate smiled. “Damn carpetbaggers.”
He chuckled. “Sure, except Vik, the GM, is from Vegas. So? Dinner?”
As much as she would love to see her brother, she was not quite ready to introduce him to Connor. “It’s actually really busy tonight. I probably wouldn’t be able to spend any time with you. Why don’t we get together tomorrow?”
“That sounds good. I’m beat anyway. Going back to the hotel and zoning out in front of the TV sounds pretty tempting right about now.”
“I’m sure that’s what’s tempting you,” Emily Kate teased, knowing full well that Kennedy was probably waiting for him in his hotel room.
They chatted for a few more minutes, and then she ended the call. She felt guilty for putting off her brother, and her reason was not innocent, but she’d spoken the truth: the restaurant was packed tonight. It was a Friday evening, and on top of that, word had already spread about the hot new chef. The ratio of women to men was heavily in favor of the fairer sex.
The last thing she wanted was for Jack to show up and catch one of those heated looks Connor kept throwing her way. The man took foreplay to ridiculous levels. She could hardly wait to close the restaurant and take him home with her tonight.
She knew damn well her brother would figure out what was going on, and Jack could be seriously overbearing in those types of situations. There had only been two occasions in her life when she’d come anywhere close to dating a man like Connor, and both times, Jack had frightened the potential suitor so badly, neither had ever called her again. In fact, one moved out West almost immediately after Jack had one of his “talks” with him, and Emily Kate was not convinced it was a coincidence.
She definitely could not let Jack meet Connor.
When the restaurant closed, Emily Kate was so eager to get everyone out the door, she helped the servers with their closing duties. By the time she’d sent everyone on their way and locked the door behind them, Connor had the kitchen sparkling clean and was laughing at her.
“What?” she asked innocently as he stalked across the room toward her.
He wrapped his arm around her waist. “Someone seems to be in a hurry to be done with work this evening.”
“It’s been a long day,” she defended herself. “And I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
“You slept like the dead last night.”
“That was after you wore me out.”
“Oh yeah? Want me to do it again?”
He pulled her tightly against his body. She could feel the bulge of his erection pressing into her stomach. “Yes,” she whispered as she lifted her face, anticipating a kiss.
Instead of kissing her full on the lips, he grabbed her lower lip between his own and sucked. “How about right here?” he suggested as he backed her up to the stainless steel prep counter.
“In the kitchen?” she said on a squeak. “Isn’t that against code or something?”
“I’ll clean it again when we’re done,” Connor murmured as he leaned down and began nibbling on her neck. He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up onto the counter and then pressed her knees apart so he could stand between them. He twined his hands into her unruly curls and bent her head back so he could ravish her lips. By the time he was done, Emily Kate clung to the back of his shirt, whimpering, and she didn’t give a hot damn where they did it, just so long as she felt one of those fabulous orgasms soon. Very soon.
“Yes.”
Connor tilted his head so he could look down at her. “Yes? Really? Here?”
She shrugged. “We should probably turn off the lights though. Otherwise, we’re pretty much on display.”
Connor laughed and strode over to the wall to flip the light switch. They were instantly bathed in semidarkness. The only light came from the emergency lights over the doorways and from the lamps in the parking lot shining in through the windows.
She shivered, and he hurried back to stand between her knees, pulling her upper body firmly against his own. “Cold?” he asked with amusement in his voice.
She relaxed into his hold and sighed. “This table is awfully cold.”
“I’ll warm you up,” he promised as his hands roamed up and down her back, causing shivers of a different variety. “But I’m not so sure we can do this,” he said. “This counter’s too high. Even if I stand on my toes, I don’t think I can quite fit tab B into slot A.”
She laughed, reveling in the fact that she was being seduced in the kitchen of her restaurant. Connor made it so easy to relax and enjoy herself.
“But I know how we could do it,” he said, nuzzling her ear. His hands dropped to her thighs and slid under the hem of her dress. She wore a hot pink dress with an empire waist in a silky material. Very easy access for someone like Connor. “You stand with your hands on the table, and I’ll stand behind you,” he suggested huskily.
Tremors of excitement, of anticipation, shot through her system and Emily Kate made an incoherent noise.
His hands came up to cup her breasts, and he shifted his nuzzling to her neck. “That sounds like a yes to me.”
“Oh, yes,” she said on a sigh while his thumbs grazed her erect and highly sensitive nipples.
“Know what I like?”
She’d never considered accents to be attractive until Connor walked into her life. Now, as far as she was concerned, he could like monkey brains for breakfast and she wouldn’t care, so long as he kept talking to her in that sexy, Midwestern accent.
“W-what?”
“I like that you like this,” he said as he slid his thumbs across her nipples again. She gasped and let her eyes flutter closed and her head loll on her shoulder.
“And I like that you like this,” he said, and he slid his hands down her waist, to the hemline of her dress again, and then up, where his thumbs grazed an entirely different and equally sensitive area.
“Oh.”
“And I’m pretty sure you’re going to like this,” he murmured as he pulled her off the table and gently turned her around so that his thick erection pressed into her backside.
But then he just stood there, not making any more moves. She turned her head in time to see the crestfallen look on his face as he stepped away from her.
“I just realized the condoms are back at your house,” he explained. He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, sounding genuinely regretful.
“I’m beginning to think one box isn’t going to be enough,” she teased.
His grin was wicked. “I like the way you think.” He smoothed his hand over his face. “Not that I really think we’re going to run out of condoms tonight, but I wouldn’t mind picking up a razor somewhere. That pink thing you use is a torture device.”
“There’s a Walmart about thirty minutes from here. It’s open twenty-four hours.” She frowned. “Where is all your stuff? How come you don’t even have a toiletry bag?”
He shifted his gaze to the side and paused for several moments before responding. “When I left, I just ... left. I didn’t think. I got into my truck and drove.” He lifted his hand and cupped the back of his neck. “I do that sometimes. React without thinking things through. Actually, I do it a lot. More than I should.”
He was impulsive. The first negative trait she’d seen, although in truth, was it really such a negative trait? No doubt his impulsive personality had been in play when he charmed Mr. and Mrs. Henry into returning to their seats and then informed her he was taking over her kitchen the day before. And the current results were anything but negative. That wasn’t even counting what had happened between them last night and this morning—and tonight. She had no doubt she was in for another breathtaking evening, once they return
ed to her house.
“Let’s go,” she said, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the back door.
• • •
Holy shit, that was close. And not entirely a lie. He had taken off without grabbing his personal effects first, but it hadn’t been from the job he left in Detroit, like he implied. But rushing upstairs to his hotel suite before escaping the casino yesterday had not seemed like a particularly wise decision. Especially considering he’d barely gotten out at all, and even then, his pursuers had been hot on his tail the whole damn time.
Guilt hit him, hard. He should not be with Emily Kate. He should not lead her on. He should not anticipate the night ahead. He should not allow her to guide him to her car so they could head to Walmart to pick up supplies because he’d made a couple of poor decisions and didn’t even have an extra pair of boxers, let alone a razor or toothbrush. Not to mention an ID. Hell, even if he wanted to catch his flight back to Detroit, he couldn’t, because he didn’t have a driver’s license at the moment. How was he supposed to rectify that situation if he couldn’t even get back to the state that issued the card in the first place?
Despite his lack of funds or identification, he knew the right thing to do was to head down to that boat still tied to the dock outside the restaurant, get in, and figure out his way back to that launch in Louisiana. He should then get into his rental truck and drive away, out of Emily Kate’s life. Probably, he should head to the nearest police station and confess everything that had happened at the casino, tell them the reasons he’d left in such a hurry and was now hiding out, using Emily Kate as cover. He should do a lot of things ... and just as he’d admitted, he was too damn impulsive for his own good. For her own good. Because hot damn, he wasn’t about to say no to the woman, not tonight, and probably not the next or the next or however many nights it took before she either figured out who the hell he was or got bored and lost interest, whichever came first.
“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he promised, anticipation of the night to come putting an extra spring in his step as he hurried across the parking lot, hand in hand with Emily Kate.
• • •
“I think my heart is going to gallop out of my chest.”
Emily Kate labored to catch her breath. “Do you think we’re out of shape?”
They lay side by side on the bed, flat on their backs, bare chests slick with sweat. Her hair was splayed across the pillow in a golden cascade of curls. One of his arms dangled off the side of the bed, limp and listless.
“Are you kidding me? A freaking Olympic athlete couldn’t keep up this pace. Are we trying to kill ourselves?”
“I can tell you, from my perspective, it’s been a while. And you just ... have this way, I guess. Even though I can barely catch my breath and my entire body is still tingling, I swear if you rolled over and touched me, I would figure out a way to do it again.”
He rolled onto his side and hauled her toward him so they were spooning. Then he rested his chin on top of her head. “Ah, Emily Kate. You do say the sweetest things.”
He could feel her smile.
“Why does everyone call you Emily Kate? Is Kate your middle name?”
“Yes. It’s a southern thing, I guess.”
“When my parents use my middle name, I know to run for the hills.”
She chuckled. “What is your middle name?”
“James. Connor James Rikeland.”
“Did your parents use your middle name a lot when you were growing up?”
He leaned up on his shoulder so he could look into her face. “How did you know?” he teased.
“Lucky guess,” she said with an impish smile.
He stroked her cheek. “You mentioned you had a brother. Only one sibling?”
She nodded. “Yes. Jack’s the oldest. Typical older brother.”
“Does he live in New Orleans, like your parents?”
“Yes. Although he travels a lot with his job. He’s up here, right now, actually.”
“I take it he’s Kennedy’s husband?”
“The one and the same.”
“You’re close to your family.” It wasn’t a question, but she responded as such.
“Very. Even living just four hours away makes me sad sometimes.”
“What’s your brother do that he travels so much?”
“He’s an FBI agent.”
His entire body froze. He couldn’t even breathe. FBI agent? Currently here in town? In all reality, it wasn’t too much of a stretch, considering what happened yesterday.
Except the damned FBI agent was Emily Kate’s brother. Talk about complicating things. Connor wondered if he should come clean, tell her everything he knew.
But what if she walked away—or more accurately, kicked him to the curb? At the moment, that was the very last thing he wanted to happen.
Not good.
Emily Kate’s voice startled him back to reality. “Don’t worry, that’s a pretty typical reaction. Most people immediately begin racking their brains, trying to figure out if they’ve ever done anything in their lives that would warrant an FBI agent coming after them.”
Connor forced a hollow chuckle. “Guilty,” he admitted, his voice strangled.
Chapter 7
The next morning, Emily Kate woke to the sound of hammering. She was also alone in the bed. Snagging a thin cotton robe, she wrapped it around herself, made a quick pit stop in the bathroom, and then headed down the hall, following the direction of the noise.
She found Connor, kneeling on the bottom step, hammering a nail into a freshly cut board, where the night before had been “the scary third step,” as she referred to the most dangerous and rotted of all the stairs leading up to her house.
“What are you doing?” she asked, even though it was perfectly obvious. “Why are you fixing my steps?” she amended.
He glanced up and wiped sweat from his forehead before answering. “Because I’m afraid you’re going to fall and break your neck. And I’m not sure you’d still be able to have sex with a broken neck. So really, it’s purely for selfish reasons.”
She laughed and headed down the stairs to admire his handiwork. She noticed he’d already replaced four other rotted boards. How had she not heard the hammering until this point?
Probably because he’d worn her out so thoroughly the night before. Again.
“I’m glad I’m the beneficiary of your selfish actions. When you’re done, I’ll reward you by scrubbing your back in the shower.”
He tapped on the nail three more times and declared, “Done.” Then he grabbed her around the waist and tossed her over his shoulder before heading up the stairs and into the house.
The back scrub in the shower naturally turned into sex against the tile wall, her legs wrapped around Connor’s waist and her arms clinging to his back while he gripped her hips and pressed into her again and again, until she shuddered and climaxed and he chased her over the edge moments later.
“Unfortunately, we can’t bask very long. My brother and Kennedy and Mrs.—er—Wendy are coming over this morning.”
Connor all but leaped out of the bathtub, grabbed a towel, and rushed into the bedroom. Emily Kate dried off, wrapped the towel around her midsection, and followed. She found him pawing through the pile of clothing she’d purchased for him during their trip to Walmart the evening before. She’d known he didn’t have cash, credit cards, or an ID and had wanted to help him feel comfortable. But she also hadn’t wanted him to believe he could take advantage of her good nature, so she’d informed him that she’d take the cost out of his first paycheck. He’d actually appeared relieved when she said it.
“Why don’t I head over to the restaurant while you hang out with your family?” he suggested, his voice laced with panic. “I’ll shore up that schedule you never finished yesterday and inventory the dry goods. Plus, I was thinking about calling Pedro and seeing if he wanted to come in and test some recipes with me. I let him make a few things yesterday on his own, a
nd the kid’s got talent. I don’t know why that other chef never recognized it.”
“Pierre had an ego that was really too big for my little restaurant,” she admitted. “I think he was afraid of someone overshadowing him.”
“You will never have that problem from me,” Connor vowed, with deep sincerity. “I lost count of the number of times I was passed over for promotion at Oliver’s Restaurant. I would never do the same to someone else. Especially someone with talent like Pedro’s got.”
She didn’t try to stop him from leaving. She wasn’t ready to introduce him and her brother yet anyway. Jack would immediately figure out something was going on between them, and then he would pull that scary big brother act he’d pulled ever since she expressed interest in a boy when she was fourteen years old.
It was highly difficult to have a normal dating life with a brother like Jack. He insisted most men—especially those with a crooked smile like Connor’s—were only interested in one thing. He knew, because he used to be one of those guys until he met Kennedy. Considering Emily Kate and Connor had hopped into bed together the day they met, she didn’t exactly have a valid argument against her brother’s beliefs. She could point out that Connor was still hanging around and was a permanent employee at the restaurant, but she knew Jack would poke holes in that theory so quickly her head would spin. It hadn’t even been a full week, how was she to know whether Connor planned to disappear once he’d had his fill? She could all but hear her brother’s argument in her head.
An hour later, she stood in front of the large, plate glass window behind the sink in her kitchen, overlooking a beautiful hazy morning on the bayou. Egrets and other birds took flight, dipping into the water to snatch up unsuspecting fish. Turtles sprawled in the sun on logs jutting from the murky water. She’d opened the windows yesterday, but this morning, she walked around the house, closing them and flipping on the air conditioning. The air was thick with humidity, thicker than normal, which meant an early summer storm was on its way.
She heard the sound of feet climbing the steps to reach the back door, and she turned to greet her favorite brother and his family.
