When we walked into the pool area, I spotted Kegan in dark green swim trunks standing with the rest of the team and realized that regardless of what his workouts did for his restaurant they had certainly done wonders for his physique. I'd known he was lean, but... His stomach was taut and sleekly rippled, his strong chest bore the perfect amount of dark hair, and his arms and legs were muscular without being cartoonish. Sweet mercy, what a man.
Walking everywhere and being too broke to overeat since I'd moved to Toronto had taken away the five extra pounds I'd carried around for ages, but even so I found myself wanting to suck in my stomach.
Carolyn said quietly, "Some guys are born never to wear a shirt, don't you think?"
I laughed, and she grinned at me. I wondered if she'd ever dated Kegan. She seemed to know a lot about him.
When we reached the others, Kegan introduced me to everyone as "Mary, my star new chef". I blushed but smiled at him, and was relieved to see him smile back. He couldn't be too mad at me.
We and the opponents all slipped into the pool and swam about for a few minutes to warm up, and I was glad to see I hadn't lost my swimming form. My right leg did complain a bit as I kicked my way around the pool, but since I hadn't swum for ages it probably wasn't a surprise, and it loosened up in moments. Before the warm-up time was over, Kegan and Carolyn took me to the shallow end to teach me the basics of the game.
Carolyn demonstrated, dropping beneath the surface of the water and patrolling the bottom of the pool like a stingray, while Kegan explained. "She can only touch the puck with her stick, not her other hand. There's no intentional contact, but some people wear a thick rubber glove so they don't get too scratched up and battered by the accidental stuff. I don't bother because it makes it harder to handle the stick. Basically, you'll stay down as long as you can and push the puck toward the other goal."
"Both goals are in the shallow end, right?"
He shook his wet head, his hair turned black by the water and starting to spike up. He looked so different, much looser and more relaxed. "One is shallow, and the other is halfway to the deep end. We switch every ten minutes, and the game lasts for an hour."
"Got it. So how do you move the puck?"
Carolyn surfaced, and Kegan said, "Let's show Mary how you actually play." He settled his swim mask over his eyes and grabbed his stick and a bright orange puck from the deck, then he and Carolyn agreed on who'd be going which way and submerged. I watched, amazed, as they pushed at the puck and struggled to take it away from each other. Carolyn, with a quick swipe, got control and drove the puck far enough away that Kegan couldn't reach it, then they stood up, both laughing as they caught their breath.
"Nice one," Kegan said. "Do it again in the game."
I admired that he didn't seem to mind having been beaten. Charles had always hated it, especially if he happened to lose to a woman. Losing to me was worst of all.
"Your turn," Kegan said to me. "Grab a stick and that spare mask and let's give it a shot."
I sparred with Carolyn first while he watched, then he gave me some suggestions and we took on Carolyn. We couldn't talk, of course, but he used his free hand to point to where I should go, and we would have beaten her if another teammate hadn't joined in to help her out.
Once we had our breath back, Kegan said, "Got it?"
"I think so."
"Good. Let's win this game."
*****
Showered and dressed and delighted with myself post-game, I left the change room to find nearly all the members of both teams clustered by the pool's front door.
"I knew it was supposed to rain but I didn't expect this," someone said as I approached.
I glanced at the street outside the door then stared. Rain slashed down, driven nearly horizontal by a clearly raging wind. I couldn't even see the other side of the road through the downpour, but I could see that the roadway itself was beginning to flood.
"Driving's going to be hell," Carolyn said. "Glad I'm taking the subway."
A few people groaned, and she grinned. To me, she said, "Nice meeting you. Maybe we'll see you again?"
"We'd better," one of the guys said, and the others agreed.
I blushed. The goal I'd scored, right at the end of the game, had broken what was going to be a tied game, and my teammates had been ecstatic. I'd been thrilled too, but had pointed out that I wouldn't have scored without Kegan's pass and Carolyn's defense of me and the puck. They'd brushed that off, both of them, and Kegan had said, "Great goal," without sounding remotely like he wanted or needed to share in the glory.
Carolyn turned to Kegan. "Bring her back next week, okay?"
"Sure, if I manage to get her home safe tonight."
She smiled and headed out with a few other subway-taking players. Before they'd gone three steps they were completely soaked, and one woman's umbrella was caught by the wind and torn from her hand. They persevered, heads bent against the torrent, and were soon gone from our sight.
"Guess I'll give it a try." The man's voice lacked any confidence, but he went out to the parking lot anyhow.
Kegan turned to me. "Mind if we wait a few minutes to see if it settles down?"
"Not at all," I said, eying the storm. "Sounds like a plan."
I had my meal plan notes for the weekend in my work bag, so we sat on a bench near the door and began to discuss them. Several other players waited a minute or two as well, but soon grew bored and decided to take their chances with the weather.
After about ten minutes, Kegan said, "If anything, it's getting worse."
I hadn't wanted to say so, but it looked that way to me too.
He turned to face me. "Where do you live?"
I winced, knowing he wouldn't like the answer. "I'm east of here. About twenty minutes, probably. I can take the subway, though."
"And then walk home from the station in this weather? I couldn't live with myself." He paused, studying me. "Look. I'm about three minutes from here and I'm east too. I will do my best to get you home, but if it's even worse than it looks... I have a guest room. Would you consider staying with me tonight?"
Waking up in the morning with my boss? Awkward. But getting us both killed to avoid a bit of awkwardness didn't seem good either. I nodded, not sure what to say.
He picked up his gym bag and got to his feet. "Well, let's hope you get to go home."
I hoped, and hoped hard, but it didn't work. After we'd gone one block, weaving past car accidents and through huge puddles, the rain pounding the windshield so hard I could barely see out, I gasped, "Please, can we go to your place instead?"
"Okay," he said, nothing more, and I glanced over to see his hands white-knuckled on the wheel.
We didn't speak again until he'd parked in the underground lot of a condo building. Then he turned to me and gave a deep sigh. "That was terrifying."
I nodded fervently. "Great job driving through it. I wouldn't have wanted to do that."
"Neither did I. Do you have a car?"
I shook my head. "Sold it so I could pay rent when I moved here."
He turned in his seat to face me, and I found myself uncomfortably aware of the intimacy of the situation. All he said, though, was, "Yet another sign of how determined you are." A smile touched his face. "There was no point in resisting hiring you, was there? It would have happened eventually."
I smiled back. "Looks like it."
We took the elevator out of the parking garage and up to the thirtieth floor of the building. The storm was impressive enough at ground level; the sight of it from Kegan's huge living room windows left me stunned. Lightning flashed, illuminating the wind-roughened Lake Ontario, and the raindrops pounding the glass were frightening in their violence.
He joined me at the windows and shook his head. "We drove through that."
"You did."
He smiled. "You were there too. Come check out my freezer and see what you want for dinner."
Kegan, it turned out, had frozen meals delivered ev
ery few weeks. "I eat at Steel a lot, and occasionally at other places around Toronto. But when I'm home, I just want to eat and not think about it."
"I can make something," I suggested, "so we don't use your meals."
He shook his head. "They're here to be eaten."
We sat at his dining room table and talked about the underwater hockey game until the food was ready, then we ate and talked about Magma's menus, continuing to work long after the food was gone. He didn't mention the contractors and I didn't either; he seemed so much more relaxed than before and I didn't want to remind him of the mess with Jimmy.
Eventually he bent his head forward, stretching his neck. "I think I've had enough of this chair. Want to move to the living room? I'll make coffee. Or would you rather tea?"
"Coffee's fine, if that's what you're making."
He raised his head. "I've never seen you drink coffee. Do you like it?"
Our eyes met and I had to say, "Not really."
He smiled and shook his head. "You're too nice for your own good."
That wasn't true. Was it?
Kegan rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry, I'm tired and I shouldn't have said that. It's none of my business. But tell me, tea or coffee?"
I had trouble making myself say, "Tea, please." I did want it, but I knew I'd be putting him out.
He studied me, looking like he had more to say, but just said, "You got it. Go sit in the living room, it's much more comfortable."
I stood, then had to grab the table for support as my right leg rebelled.
"You okay?"
I nodded. "My leg gets sore whenever I first put weight on it. But it's fine after a minute or two."
He frowned. "How long has it been like that?"
I shrugged. "It's on and off."
It wasn't, but I didn't want to talk about it. Weird enough to be in his home without also discussing my strange leg issue.
"Good. Okay, tea in a few minutes."
A small picture frame on the living room coffee table held a child's drawing of a cat, lime green with only three legs, and it reminded me with a start of Saffron, no doubt standing impatiently at his food bowl. I found my cell phone and went into the kitchen. "I have to make a call, okay? About my cat."
He looked up from the coffee maker. "Of course."
I sank into a luxurious armchair and found Brian in my contact list. "Hey, it's Mary. Look, I need a huge favor."
"I'm not going outside. It's a mess."
"No, I need you to go in and feed Saffron."
"You're not coming home?"
I shook my head, then realized of course he couldn't see it. Kegan could, though; he'd arrived in the living room. I looked up and saw him watching me with mild curiosity. Turning my head away, I said, "No. Can't get home in the rain. Could you feed him tonight, and tomorrow morning too?"
"Where are you?"
Urgh. I didn't want to tell. But what else could I do? "My boss's house. He was driving me home, but it was closer to come here. It's too nasty out."
Brian grunted. "Spending the night with your boss?" He was jealous, I could hear it.
"Not like—" I cut myself off, mindful of Kegan's presence. "Look, just feed Saff, okay? I'm sure I'll be able to get home for his dinner tomorrow."
I expected him to push me on the staying-with-Kegan thing, but he didn't. Probably because he had something else on his mind. "I didn't get that job. Found out today. I was hoping we could talk tonight. But I guess tomorrow is soon enough."
Far too soon for me. Annoyed that he assumed I'd be willing to let him unload his issues on me yet again, I said, "I don't know if I'll have time."
"I'll come by around eight," he said, with no apparent understanding that I hadn't actually said I wanted to see him. "Have fun with your boss."
"Bye." I didn't want to dignify that with a response.
I shoved my phone into my jeans pocket, and Kegan said, "Your boyfriend's taking care of the cat?"
"He's my neighbor, not my boyfriend."
He nodded and went to fetch our drinks. He came back with a mug in each hand and said, "None of my neighbors have keys to my place."
I sipped my tea before answering, not wanting to let him see my confusion. Was he jealous? It almost sounded like it, but of course he couldn't be. Choosing to respond to his words and not to what I thought I sensed behind them, I said, "He's... a friend." Sort of. "And he took care of Saffron when I went to England, so he still has—"
"When were you in England?"
I blinked, surprised at his sudden intensity. "Last month. My cousin got married."
"Hmm."
Before I could ask why he cared about my travel history, he said, "Okay, let's get our plans finalized for the weekend."
We worked for another hour or so, and at about ten-thirty he said, "Looks good. I have to say, I'm impressed with how quickly you pull these plans together. You're very decisive when it comes to work."
I felt my cheeks grow warm. "Thanks. I try. The recipes I'm using now are all ones I know well. In a few weeks it'll get tougher, but I'm reading a lot of cookbooks and experimenting at home so I'll still have ideas when that happens."
"I'm sure you will. And they'll be great."
He smiled at me, and I smiled back, then he turned to look at the rain still pelting the windows. "You don't know how to build an ark, do you?"
I laughed. "Not so much."
"Then I think you do have to stay here tonight. I don't know about you but I'm beat. It's been a long day."
Now that he mentioned it... "Me too."
"I'm not meeting Luigi and Max to sign the paperwork for Magma until eleven-thirty tomorrow, so we don't have to race out first thing in the morning. Sleep in, you deserve it. Come on and I'll give you a towel and show you where everything is."
I pushed to my feet and walked toward him, trying not to wince at the renewed pain in my leg.
His eyes were intent on my face but he said nothing. Instead, he took me into the guest room and showed me the ensuite bathroom's cupboard, filled with shampoo and soap and unused toothbrushes.
"Why so many?"
He smiled. "My sister's kids stay with me occasionally on weekends and they always forget their stuff. It's easier just to buy extras so I know they'll have what they need here."
I smiled back. "And it comes in handy when staff members stay over."
He laughed. "Which, of course, happens nearly every night. Need anything else?"
I had a bed, a place to hide from the rain, and no way for Brian to come bug me. "I've got everything I need."
Chapter Seven
I woke to the rich scent of fresh coffee. Pity it never tasted as good to me as it smelled. I stretched, easing out the faint stiffness in my muscles from the underwater hockey game, and glanced at the bedside clock. Nine-fifteen. Wonderful.
Knowing Kegan was lying in bed a few rooms away had for a time left me too distracted to sleep, especially when I'd found myself wondering what he was wearing. Nothing, like me since I wanted to let my clothes air out for the next day? Flannel pajamas? Boxers? That thought led me into a "boxers versus briefs" debate with myself, which I won by deciding he seemed like a boxers kind of man. But once I stopped mentally dressing and undressing him and drifted off to sleep I was out for the night.
Awake now, I headed to the bathroom but stopped when I saw a piece of paper on the carpet, one corner still caught under the bedroom door.
Dear Mary,
Feel free to take a shower or bath or whatever you'd like. It's eight o'clock now and I'm going downstairs to the gym. I'll be back and ready to find some breakfast at around ten. If you're hungry before then, get whatever you want from the kitchen.
Good news - the ark is no longer required.
Kegan
I pushed back the bedroom curtains and realized he was right. The roads far below my window were still wet, and the remnants of car accidents lingered, but the sky was a fresh cloudless blue.
After my
shower I dressed in of course the same clothes I'd worn the day before. No other options. I braided my damp hair then gave myself a light layer of makeup and headed out to find us something good for breakfast.
As I left the bedroom, the condo's front door opened and Kegan appeared. His hair was wet with sweat, the upper chest and underarms of his light grey t-shirt darkened with it too. His cheeks glowed and he looked vibrantly alive.
And sexier than hell.
He grinned, more relaxed than I'd ever seen him. "Good morning. How'd you sleep?"
"Fine, thanks," I managed through a throat gone dry. I'd thought he was good-looking before, but now? "You?"
"Once I got used to the rain beating down my windows, not bad. Did it bother you?"
No, I was too busy wondering whether you wear boxers to bed. "No, it was fine."
He grinned again. "Good stuff. Let me go shower. I must smell like a foot. And then we can eat."
"Sounds good. See you in a bit."
He started toward his bedroom, then looked back. "Any chance you could make scrambled eggs? I haven't had them for ages."
"Sure."
"See, Nora's kids never make me breakfast. Much nicer having you stay over."
I set to work and willed myself to stop fantasizing about joining him in the shower. That body, naked and wet, entwining with mine... sliding my soapy hands over his slick skin... tumbling out of the shower and into his bed together...
It wasn't until I completely smushed an egg while trying to crack it that I managed to make myself focus on what I was doing instead of what I suddenly wanted to be doing. With my boss. The man who could make all my career dreams come true.
He looked nothing like Charles. Charles and Brian, frankly, looked a lot alike, blond and lanky. That had always been my type. But I'd never met anyone quite like Kegan.
I had the eggs nearly done, and had made some other food to round out the meal, when he reappeared wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, a hint of that post-workout glow still lighting up his face and eyes.
Toronto Collection Volume 1 (Toronto Series #1-5) Page 81
