by Cathryn Fox
“I could be an axe murderer, and you’d be okay with it as long as I was passionate about it?” I say playfully.
“Are you an axe murderer?” she asks.
“No. But I could be a stalker.”
“Are you a stalker?”
“Not since the restraining order,” I tease.
“Then kiss me.”
I lower my head, press my lips to hers, and as I kiss her deeply, lose myself in her silky softness, she slides her hands around me, palms my muscles.
“Mmm,” she moans, but that sexy sound mingles with a bang at the back door and a loud moo.
I break the kiss and shake my head. “Cock blocked by a blind cow,” I murmur, and Kira laughs. “Now how often does a guy get to say that in his life?”
Chapter Eleven
Kira
I pull my coat on and run my hand along Gram’s wall. So much work needs to be done to spruce the old place up, it’s a bit overwhelming. I’ve been here almost two weeks, and while I’ve gone over the list the realtor gave me, between my theorem, letters to the Heritage Society, and well, hanging out with Nate and the others, most of the work still needs to be done.
Knuckles rap on the back door, and I walk through the dining room, happy to see the pickle jar has been removed.
It’s Faith. “Hey, come on in,” I say.
She frowns and says, “Just saw the For Sale sign on the front lawn, but no eggshells.”
“It’s not happening as frequently.”
“Did you ever figure out who it was?”
“Not yet.”
She glances at my coat. “Am I catching you on your way out?”
“Just headed to the Anchor to meet Ralph and Mindy for lunch.” I still haven’t thanked Gram’s best friends for helping out around the place since her passing. I should be so lucky to have people like them in my life. Then again, I actually do. For the time being, anyway.
“I won’t keep you. I was just out for a walk and thought I’d check in to see if you were coming to the party tonight. Lots of people want to meet Gram’s granddaughter.”
“You bet. Nate and I will be there.”
“I also wanted to see if you were interested in joining our book club.”
“Oh,” I say, touched that they thought of me. “I don’t have a lot of time to read right now.”
“No worries. We basically drink wine and plan events for the Pathfinders.”
“I’m good at drinking wine,” I say, and we laugh. “But I have no idea how to plan events.”
“It’s fun. We’ll be heading outside for a survival camping trip before the snow. You’re welcome to join us.”
“Sure, I’ll join you.”
Her eyes widen in disbelief. “Really?”
“Yeah, right after the next resurrection.”
She laughs hard. “That’s what Gram always used to say when she didn’t want to do something.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just that death by hypothermia or bear attack…not high on my list.”
She laughs. “We’re used to this weather. You will be soon, too.”
I’m about to tell her I won’t be here long enough for that, but she goes on.
“And bears…they’re more afraid of you. Anyway, if you change your mind, we’d love to have you. Amber really likes you. Apparently, you’re way cooler than her mom.”
I laugh at that, and when Faith steps out, I follow her. I zip my coat to the neck, but the damp chill seeps into my bones. Yeah, I’d last all of three seconds on a survival trip.
“You’re out for a walk…in this cold?”
She waves her hand. “It’s a balmy five degrees, Kira. If it jumps any more, we’ll have to dig out the bathing suits,” she teases with a wink.
I shake my head. “East coasters are one of a kind.”
“The best kind. You’ll see.”
She disappears around the house, and I jump into the land yacht and head to the local pub. Judging by the nearly full parking lot, all the Hooked employees must come here for lunch. Inside, I search for Ralph and Mindy. It’s been so long, I’m not so sure I’ll recognize them. In the short distance, a hand raises to gesture me over.
“Ralph,” I say as he tugs me in for a hug. Mindy is next, and neither one of them has changed a bit. Once we exchange pleasantries, I take a seat in the chair across the table from them.
“I’m sorry it took so long to reach out to you both,” I say. “I’ve been slowly working on the house. Gram has a lot of knickknacks in the basement, and I’ve been boxing them and donating to the church for their summer flea market.” It’s the bigger things on the list that I haven’t gotten around to.
“No worries,” Mindy says, and the lines around her cloudy blue eyes crinkle as she smiles at me.
“Ralph, I want to thank you for keeping an eye on the place, and helping the crew continue to run it as a B&B.”
“Anything for Margaret,” he says.
“Look at you,” Mindy pipes in. “You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman.”
I smile at Mindy’s compliment and her motherly warmth. She reminds me of Gram in a lot of ways. The server comes, and I order a water with lemon, while Ralph gets a beer and Mindy asks for a hot cup of herbal tea. I steal a glance around, and my heart jumps into my throat when I spot the big pickle jar from Gram’s dining room sitting on the bar top.
It couldn’t be the same one, could it?
“Your grandmother would have been so proud of you,” Mindy says, pulling my attention back to her. “A big-time mathematician at the university.”
“I’m not that big time,” I say. At the rate I’m going, I’ll never solve my theorem.
“Oh, don’t be modest,” she says with a dismissive wave.
“She wouldn’t be happy about you selling the place, though,” Ralph says frankly, his voice deep and gruff from age. Way to get right to the point, Ralph.
I exhale slowly and rub the knot at the base of my neck. “I know. She left it to Mom, but she wants it sold.” They both nod, like they understand that. That gives me pause, and my brain switches direction. “Why did mom hate this place?” I ask. The two exchange a quick look, and my muscles tighten. “What?” I ask.
Mindy takes my hand. “Your mother was young when Hooked was established. She saw what it did to jobs, our economy.”
“We had some tough times back then,” Ralph adds.
“She never liked the company that cared about the bottom line over the safety of their men, but with jobs scarce in the community, she ended up working for them during her summer breaks.”
I nod. “Gram wasn’t a fan of Hooked, either,” I say but I’m not telling them something they don’t already know.
“But that didn’t stop young Linda from falling in love with the CEO,” Mindy says. “She didn’t know who he was at first—she’d met him outside of work—and he charmed her. He was far too old for her, though. She thought he was different, that he cared about others, but one day, she discovered he was using her for insider information about the real state of the plant processing floor, so he could streamline, cut jobs, and increase his profit. Once he did that, he up and left, never to look back again. He didn’t care about her, or the people who worked on the boats. All he cared about was the company’s bottom line.”
“You’re kidding me?”
Mindy makes a tsking sound. “She was practically picking out a wedding dress, and he broke her heart.”
“After that she wanted nothing to do with Hooked, or this place,” Ralph adds.
Appalled, I shake my head. “She never told me that story.” When she left here, perhaps she wanted to leave those horrible memories behind as well. “What was his name?” I ask out of curiosity.
“William Lancaster,” Ralph says. “His sons are just as
cold. Steer clear of them.”
“I’ll remember that.” I pause and say, “Mom and Gram didn’t seem to get along that well, but she never really talked about it.”
Mindy gives a nod of her head. “Your grandmother didn’t want your mother dating William. They fought about it constantly. Margaret warned her and tried to keep them apart. Maybe she didn’t go about it the right way, but she only had Linda’s best interests at heart. Linda was a stubborn one back then. It caused a great deal of rife between the two, and when Margaret ended up being right, I think Linda was embarrassed. I always hoped they’d put it all behind them before…”
She lets her words trail off, but she doesn’t need to finish for me to understand. My heart aches as I think about the wasted years, the loss between mother and daughter. At least she didn’t keep me from Gram. Although I really wish she would have had a funeral for her. I’m glad she was buried with Granddad, though. I still need to go to the cemetery. I’ve driven by a couple of times but can’t seem to cross the iron gates.
“Let’s eat, shall we,” Mindy says like she wants a change of subject. I open my menu and decide on a big hamburger, but my heart hurts for my mother. To think the men on the boats worked so hard, yet management cared so little about them. Those guys put their lives at risk every day. I have full respect for them. I’m sure Nate knows how I feel about what he does.
Our drinks arrive and I take a big gulp of water.
“Have you been to the studio?” Mindy asks.
“Just briefly,” I say, not ready to talk about it. It was our special place, where we laughed, bonded, painted, and talked. It holds such a special place in my heart, and I need to keep it there just a little longer before sharing my plans and opening it to others.
“Tell me what you’ve been up to, Mindy.”
In an animated voice, Mindy shares stories of her gardens, bingo, and book club and soon enough our meals are done.
When we finish, Ralph insists on paying, and I have no choice but to let him. People around here are pretty pushy, in a generous way.
I shrug back into my coat, take another look at the pickle jar on the counter, and make a mental note to ask the crew about it.
It’s nearing two by the time I make it back to the B&B, and I’m happy to see it egg free. Since I have lots of time before I need to get ready for the Halloween party tonight, I head into my office, and lose myself in work.
An hour later, the back door opens, and new footsteps tromp through the kitchen, followed by a lot of grumbling. What the heck? I slide from my chair and walk into the kitchen to find Nate standing there, his fists holding the hoods of two boys who look to be around twelve and fourteen.
“What’s going on?” I ask, as a gust of wind rushes into the house and wraps around me. I fold my arms to warm myself.
Nate’s eyes narrow, his jaw clenched tight. “These two have something to say to you.”
I glance at their scrunched-up faces, and one says, “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” the other one says.
Nate gives him a little shake. “Not good enough.”
“Okay, I’m sorry, too,” he grouches and tries to pull away from Nate’s firm hold. Not a chance.
I look at Nate to try to figure out what they’re sorry about. “These are the two who’ve been egging the house. They’re the neighbor’s grandkids. They stay at their place after school until their parents pick them up after work.”
My eyes go wide. “Why were you egging the house?”
“We don’t want you to sell,” the older boy says, anger all over his red face.
My heart skips in my chest as understanding dawns. “Why don’t you two have a seat.”
“Take your boots off first,” Nate instructs, and they do as their told. They join me at the table, and both cross their arms. Nate stands at the door and jams his hands in his pants pocket.
“What are your names?”
“Brett,” the older boy says.
“Liam,” the younger one adds.
“Were you two close to Gram?” I ask gently, as I cross my legs and place my hands on the table.
“Yes,” they say in unison, and my heart squeezes in my too-tight chest.
“I bet she loved you two. She always wanted grandsons.” That makes them smile a bit. “Let me guess—after school, she made you chocolate chip cookies.” They both sit up a little straighter and nod. “I have her recipe.” With a tip of my head, I gesture toward the cupboard. “Maybe someday we can put those eggs to better use. I don’t think Gram would appreciate you using them on her house.”
“But we don’t want you to sell it,” Liam whines.
I swallow against the pain in my throat. “I miss her, too.” I put my hand over my heart, and it pounds against my palm. “I miss her so much, but this, what you’re doing, isn’t going to bring her back.” Water forms in the younger boy’s eyes, and tears pound behind my own. “Maybe whoever buys this place will have boys you can play with.” I look at Brett. “Or maybe a girl will move in.” I don’t miss the way his lips twitch.
“Sorry,” Brett says. “We’ll clean up the mess.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Liam adds, taking a cue from his older brother.
“I’m going to walk these two home,” Nate says, “and have a talk with their grandparents.”
“You might want to stop in and say hello to Bridgette, too,” Brett says, snorting as he pushes from his chair, his heart a tiny bit lighter than when he first arrived, and I’m glad I could help with that.
Nate stays firm and focused. “Just so we’re clear, you’re going to make this up to Kira. I have some work that needs doing around this place, and you’re both going to help.”
Mumbles and grumbles come from the boys as Nate marches them outside. I can’t help but smile as I watch them go. He’d make a good father, despite his own being mostly absent from his childhood. As the door shuts behind them, I glance at the clock. With a little time before I need to start getting ready, I make a cup of tea and head back into the office. Nate comes through the door and peeks his head into my den.
“Have you solved your quantum verification problem yet?” he asks.
I glance at him, but from his question, it’s obvious he was listening to me, or at least trying to. Strong, supportive, attentive Nate. That’s a dangerous combination right there.
“Not that easy,” I say.
“I know, just checking in on you. Did you have lunch?”
“I met Ralph and Mindy at the Anchor today.”
He hovers in the door, his big body eating up the small space and overwhelming me a bit. Today he has a bit of scruff on his face, but it doesn’t detract from his attractiveness. It only enhances it. Perhaps he’s going to grow a beard with the colder weather coming.
“Right, you mentioned that to me.”
“There was a big pickle jar, very similar to the ones Gram has, on the bar top. Do you know anything about that?”
He holds his hands up, palms out. “You’ll have to ask one of the guys about that.”
“Nate…”
“Innocent,” he says, and I shake my head.
“Faith stopped by this morning. She was checking to make sure we were still on for tonight, and then she invited me on a Pathfinders survival night in the woods.”
“You should go.”
“And you should get a brain scan for even suggesting that.”
He laughs. “I’m sure we could round you up a tent.”
“I am not sleeping in a tent in below-zero temperatures.”
“What if I snuck in and kept you warm?”
“Well…”
He glances over his shoulder like he’s making sure the coast is clear, then takes a measured step toward me. Breath leaves my lungs because I recognize that look on his face. As a matter of fact, I love t
hat look, love that it’s me who can put it there. As his presence engulfs me, his mouth lowers, devours mine, as he picks me up like I weigh nothing. He brings his body flush up against mine and sets me on the desk. Widening my quivering legs, he climbs between them, as his tongue seeks mine for a slow, leisurely taste.
I moan into his mouth and slide my hands around his body, to touch him all over. We’ve had sex nearly every night since that first time, but there’s a new hunger, a new urgency about him. Perhaps because it’s the light of day, and we’re going to do it in my office. It’s naughty, exciting, and completely out of character for me. Then again, I’ve been out of character since I’ve first met this hot fisherman.
“I need to be in here,” he says and puts his hand between my legs, rubs me through my jeans. “It’s all I could think about today, and it’s distracting me from my work.”
Need unfurls inside me. “We can’t have a distracted, Nate,” I tease, noting how at ease I am with him, how I can do or say things I normally wouldn’t. He somehow brings that out in me. Perhaps it’s because we’re simply enjoying each other, and he doesn’t have some secret agenda, or perhaps it’s because he appreciates me as a woman, not a lab coat.
“No, we can’t.” He unhooks my button, and my zipper hisses as he pulls it down. “What about you, Kira? Have you been thinking about my cock?”
“I have,” I say honestly, loving the dirty, blatant way he talks to me. “For some reason, I can’t get enough of you. I believe you just might have ruined me.” He chuckles into my mouth. Only problem is, I’m not really kidding. That thought evaporates as he slides a hand into my panties and brushes his finger over my cleft.
“Nate,” I moan at that furtive caress. Deft fingers sweep my sex, and I put my hands behind me, flatten them on the desk for leverage and lift myself, giving him better access to my body.
“You have been thinking about me,” he says, and dips into my hot core, which is now damp with need.
“I don’t lie,” I murmur. “Honesty is important to me.”
“Good. Then tell me what you’ve been thinking about doing?”
