“I thought it was an itty-bitty cottage,” she said.
Baron shrugged. “This is Bridget’s idea of a summer slash winter cottage. I’ll get our bags later.” He grabbed her hand. “I want to show you something first.”
He led her toward the waterfront. The compound was well-maintained and a gazebo sat to their right between the house and the lake. The sun was setting, its yellow rays bouncing off the dark surface of the water and casting a warm radiance on the surrounding pines and homes.
They walked to the gravel beach and onto the private pier, where a boat rested on launch stilts under a canopy. Baron stopped, wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her flush to his chest. Kara nestled against him, his warmth warding off the cool evening breeze drifting across the lake. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.
“What do you think?”
“About?” she said without opening her eyes.
“The view, the sunset….”
She opened her eyes and smiled. “It’s breathtaking.”
Further on to their left was some kind of a marina with several boats bobbing in the water. But as far as she could see, along either sides of the lake were homes and private piers. Kara pointed at several smaller islands to their right. “Are those inhabited?”
“I’m not sure but I know one is a sanctuary for eagles. We’ll take out the boat tomorrow for a closer look.” He dropped his head and nuzzled her neck. “You think you can stand living here for two weeks?”
Was he kidding? As long as he was around, they could be in a tent in the Sahara for all she cared. Kara turned in his arms and looked into his handsome face kissed by the sunset glow. “With you, yes.”
His head dropped and claimed her mouth in a gentle kiss that quickly mushroomed into a smoldering inferno.
“Let’s go inside.” His voice was rough with need.
The back of the house had a large deck with a patio table with an umbrella and chairs, and low wall surrounding it. Beautiful large view windows, through which she could see a long dining table and chairs, dominated the front of the house. And from the looks of things, the VanderMarcks didn’t bother with curtains.
Baron unlocked the back door and the spicy aroma of home cooking wafted to their noses, reminding Kara she hadn’t eaten anything since they left L.A. “Something smells good.”
“Mrs. Frisk said she’d left something in the oven for us. Why don’t you have a look around while I bring our bags inside?”
Furnished with old yet comfortable furniture and dominated by a huge fireplace, the room had an open floor plan with vaulted ceiling. The living/dining room took up most of the space with the kitchen area to the left. There was no carpeting or area rugs on the stone floor, and no spectacular display of antiques. A vase here, a mask there, and a painting that could be a master’s work of art sat over the fireplace and that was all.
Kara curbed the urge to rush through the rooms in search of Bridget’s stash of collectibles and followed her nose to the kitchen. The stove, embedded in the kitchen island, was set on warm. She opened the door and lifted the corner of the aluminum foil covering a baking pan to discover lasagna.
“What is it?” Baron asked as he passed the room with her bags.
“Lasagna…it looks scrumptious.”
“My favorite dish, Mrs. Frisk knows.”
Kara was tempted to follow him to find out just how often he came to this house but chose to explore the kitchen instead. She was happy to see the fridge fully stocked and a walk-in pantry with canned foods. Her culinary skills were minimal.
“You want to pick a bedroom?” Baron asked as he stored his cameras in the alcove across from the living room.
“Sure.” Not once had the thought of their sleeping arrangements crossed Kara’s mind. She’d assumed they’d sleep together but Baron obviously thought otherwise.
Trying not to be too disappointed, she left the kitchen and followed a hallway to an already opened door. It led to a spacious bedroom with a spectacular view of the lake, a private patio with a hammock and a large bathroom with a jetted tub. Her bags were by the bed. After exploring, Kara discovered two walk-in closets, both empty.
She left the room and opened the next door. Another bedroom, smaller, the view not quite as impressive and the gazebo got in the way. The third room faced the back of the house. All she saw through the window were trees and the highway in the background. The last door, which was closer to the living room, turned out to be the study. Books occupied a shelf on one wall and opposite it had DVDs.
Kara returned to the bigger bedroom. Baron’s bags were beside hers, she noted. Not sure what that meant, she pressed the king-size bed with her fingers then flopped on it face up. It was comfortable.
Baron brought in the last item, his guitar case. He placed it down and joined her, his gaze on her face. “You like this one?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts. I prefer it too. There’re two empty closets, take one, I’ll take the other.” He planted a kiss on her lips and jumped up. “I’m starved. I’ll set the table while you sit back and—”
“Do you mean we’ll share a room?” Kara interrupted him, sitting up.
“Damn right we are. I want you in my arms when I go to sleep and your face to be the first thing I see in the morning.” He cocked an eyebrow, his expression challenging. “If you have a problem with that then—”
“None whatsoever.” Kara grinned. How could she possibly object to such a romantic declaration? And she had no intention of sitting back while he catered to her. They were equal partners in this. “I’ll help you set the table.”
CHAPTER 17
“Hey gorgeous,” Baron whispered in Kara’s ear. She mumbled something unintelligible and pulled the sheet over her head, the fine cotton fabric draping her nude body.
He ran his fingers down her back through the material but she only burrowed deeper. Taking things up a notch, he zeroed in on her side, under her arm, her stomach.
Kara squealed and writhed, arms and legs flaying until she caught his wrists and glared at him. “Why are you tormenting me so early in the morning?”
“It’s after ten, and you,” he ran his gaze down and up her naked body, “are my breakfast.” He dropped his head to kiss her.
Kara shifted toward the headboard, neatly evading his kiss, grabbed the sheet, and tucked it under her armpit. He grinned. Her attempt at modesty was so endearing.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Kara peered at the windows. Unlike the living room, the bedrooms had heavy drapes designed to keep the sun out. “Are you sure it’s after ten?”
“Yep.” He picked up her glasses and passed them to her. He watched her put them on and grinned. There was something vulnerable about her when she wore them. “But I didn’t want to wake you up because you were dreaming about me.”
She raised her brow. “You? How would you know?”
“You wore that smile…” The smell of something burning reached him. “Damn, the toast.” He jumped off the bed and ran to the kitchen.
He threw the burnt pieces in the garbage and dropped four more slices of bread into the toaster. That was his second attempt. He’d have to stay put or risk running out of bread. The bacon could use a little more time on the fire but he wasn’t chancing it. He turned off the heat and swept them onto a plate. Next, he added a little margarine in the bacon pan and opened the carton of eggs.
He was scooping the cooked eggs onto two plates when Kara wandered into the kitchen looking sexy in cut-off jeans and a white tank top, hair wet from the shower.
“What are you making?” she asked, walking to his side.
“Eggs…bacon.” He sniffed the air. “Can’t you smell the aroma?”
She grimaced at the scrambled yellow mass on their plates. “It looks, uh, interesting.”
He dropped a kiss on her lips. “Cooked the Fitzgerald way. Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” She retrieved a mug from a cupboard, poured her
self coffee, and added vanilla nondairy creamer then watched him transfer the toast onto a plate. “You should have woken me up to help.”
He arranged everything on a tray. “I wanted to surprise you. Mrs. Frisk won’t be here for hours so let’s crawl back in bed, eat this, and pick up where we left off last night....no, this morning.” He winked at her.
“You promised to discuss the artwork this morning. Play time is over.”
He tweaked her nose. “You’re no fun. Here.” He gave her a bottle of orange juice to carry, picked up the tray, and led the way to the table on the deck. He placed everything within their reach then made a grand sweeping gesture as he pulled out her chair. “Breakfast…is served.”
“Thank you.” Kara sat, forked and gingerly placed a morsel of scrambled eggs in her mouth. She made a funny face but continued to chew. When she swallowed, she reached for her coffee and took a gulp.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She smiled.
Frowning, Baron tasted a forkful of the eggs and winced. Crunchy. “How the hell did the egg shells get in there?”
Kara smiled. “Don’t worry about it. It happens.”
Maybe it was because he’d cracked the eggs straight into the pan. “I should have agreed to the damn lessons.”
He didn’t realize he’d spoken out aloud until Kara said, “What lessons?”
“Chase offered to teach me a few cooking tricks but after a few attempts, I gave up. I sucked.”
Kara gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I bet he can’t tell the difference between, uh, a Van Gogh and Gauguin. Same landscapes, same period.” She took another scoop of her eggs then reached for a piece of toast and spread a thin layer of jam on it.
Kara appeared determined to appreciate his offering however inedible. If he didn’t already adore her, he would be worshipping at her feet right now. He followed her example and picked up a piece of toast.
“Speaking of artists, when can I see the collection? Are the pieces locked up in a secret room or something? I only noticed a few pieces out and they’re, uh—”
“Not impressive. I know.” Baron gave up the pretense of eating and piled his plate and Kara’s back onto the tray. She didn’t protest. He tried the bacon. A little chewy but not bad. “Before I explain, can we agree that I must stay away from anything that requires cooking?”
She chuckled. “Okay.”
“But I can still heat canned and boxed foods or make a mean sandwich with cold cuts, so don’t give up on me yet. We also have hot and cold cereals, and Mrs. Frisk will be here in the afternoons to make dinner and twice a week to clean the house and do laundry.”
“Sounds great.”
“I don’t want you to think you have to cook or anything. We can eat out, get takeout. They have some really good restaurants in Hope and Sand—”
Kara put her finger on his lips. “It’s okay. I don’t mind being in charge of breakfast or making us something to eat. I’m not up to your brother’s class but I can still mix and bake.”
He kissed her finger and smiled. “You’re priceless. Now about the collection….”
He explained the mess with Jake VanderMarck and finished with, “Bridget dropped all charges but when I talked to the cop in charge of the case, he said they’d need a couple of days to finish the paperwork before he can close the case and return the pieces to us.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”
“You were in San Diego with your sister and I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Does that mean we aren’t doing anything for at least two days?”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh, we’ve plenty to do. I’ll be your tour guide.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, Mr. One Track Mind. Do you want me to prepare something for breakfast?” Her gaze shifted to the tray. “Maybe more eggs and bacon?”
“No.” He leaned forward and gave her a kiss. “We’re going to town for breakfast. Get dressed while I get the boat ready.”
***
Kara stepped out of house to find a shirtless Baron on the boat. He was tinkering with something, a greasy cloth tucked in his back pocket. For a moment, she watched him, marveling at the sheer perfection of his back muscles. She walked down the path to the pier. The sound of her sandals on the wooden surface drew his attention and he looked up. He had a grease smudge on his cheek.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
“Nah, the engine needed an oil change.” He pulled the cloth from his back pocket, wiped his hands, and stepped off the boat. “I took care of it.”
She couldn’t help herself. She cupped his face and kissed him, not caring about her white skirt and mostly white top when his greasy hand lopped around her waist and pulled her closer. Nothing else mattered except his mouth, the way his hand reached down to cup her butt and press her against the steel jut of his erection.
“We’re not going to make it to breakfast,” he warned in a rugged voice when he leaned back.
She wasn’t hungry for food anymore. Reaching up, she whispered in his ear, “I’ve had breakfast for the last five years. I want you.”
His mouth came down on hers, hard and demanding. He scooped her up and started for the house, their lips still locked. The kiss slowed down, grew deeper. Kara gave herself to it, taking his tongue, probing his mouth with hers, making it the center of her universe.
Somehow, they made it into the bedroom. He lowered her down his masculine hard chest, his arousal evident, eager to be free. Kara went for his belt and yanked at it. Without pulling it off, she fumbled with the button, pushed his shorts and underwear down to his thighs. His erection stood proud and thick from a tuft of hair.
Echoing her urgency, he grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, flung it aside. Her skirt and panties followed. A moment later, he was kissing her, lifting her, and centering her in the middle of the unmade bed.
She watched him roll on a condom through glazed eyes then welcomed him back into her arms. Their lovemaking was intense, exhilarating. He might have five years to make up for, as he’d told her the night before, but she was accumulating mileage for a future without him. When he left to go to the bathroom for condom duty, Kara stared at the ceiling and grinned. Baron Fitzgerald was addictive. She might never recover from these two weeks, but the memories…they’d be treasured.
“That smile suits you,” Baron said.
“What smile?” She turned to watch him walk toward her, totally comfortable in his nakedness.
He stretched beside her, pulled her into his arms, and dropped a kiss on her temple. “The satisfied and thoroughly loved smirk.”
He really was arrogant. “If it’s anything like the one on your face then I’m proud to wear it.”
“You, Kara Michaels, are full of surprises. I love it.”
She nestled on his shoulder, reached across to play with his chest hair, and reveled in the moment. Her energy spent, senses languid, she listened to him talk about what he had planned for the next two days. She wondered if he was aware of her body responding to his lazy exploration. He was circling her nipple, not really touching the sensitive nub, driving her crazy.
Somewhere in the house, a door opened and closed. Kara tensed.
“Mrs. Frisk,” Baron explained.
Kara’s gaze flew to the watch on her wrist. It was almost noon. She started to sit up. “She might walk in on us and…”
“She won’t, but we can take the boat out and have lunch in town.” He rolled out of bed and stretched, begging her eyes to explore.
So she did, taking her time. When their gazes met, he was grinning smugly. Shameless man.
Kara refused to be embarrassed. “Lunch in town sounds wonderful.”
“Then shower with me.” He offered her his hand.
***
That evening after dinner, Baron watched firelight illuminate the gentle slopes of Kara’s beautiful face. Temperatures were moderate in the panhandle during early summer a
nd dropped even faster after dark. Earlier on the patio while they ate dinner, she’d pulled on a sweater. It was now scrunched up on the couch adjacent to the sofa.
She looked up and gave him a hazy, languid smile of a tired, ultra-relaxed woman.
“I wondered about that case.” She put aside her glass of wine and sat up.
Baron set down the guitar case by the sofa. “I dub a little.”
Her smile widened. “Are you going to play something for me?”
“It depends.” He leaned forward and captured her smile with his lips, stroked one cheek. “Do you sing?”
“Like a frog.”
He chuckled, then removed the classical guitar from its case, looped the strand around his neck, and cradled it. He’d tuned it days ago. “What do you want to hear?”
“Anything. I had no idea you played.”
“Chase and I took lessons when we were kids. Guitar, piano, drums… You name it we tried it, until we switched to basketball in high school.” He plucked at the strings and started to play, gazing into her eyes as the lyrics rolled from his lips. From the way they widened, she hadn’t expected a love song. When he finished, he hugged the guitar, cocked his brow, and waited for her verdict.
Kara grinned, eyes wide. “That was beautiful. Who wrote it?”
“I did for our garage band.”
“You…in a band…when?”
“Middle school. That’s how we met Stu Granger. I was on the guitar, Chase on the keyboard, and Stu behind the mike.”
Kara grinned. “What was the name of your group?”
“Manic Voltage.”
“Sounds like a heavy metal name.”
“We were more into rock with a bit of country thrown in, until Lex found out we were ditching baseball practice and called Mom, who sent us to Uncle Mo and the other uncles for a talk down. Our career crumbled before it even started. Stu became serious about baseball while Chase and I switched to basketball, but we remained tight until, uh, he went pro.” Until Valerie, but Baron didn’t want to bring her up.
Kiss Me Crazy Page 24
