Hooked on You

by Cathryn Fox

  “I like you, Nate, but if you do break her heart, you’ll have her three brothers and sister to deal with, and probably half the town.”

  It’s a threat, but it brings a smile to my face. “I like that you guys are protective of her. She needs that in her life. Gram would be so happy.”

  She pokes my chest. “Just don’t make us need to protect her from you, okay?”

  “Okay,” I say. “Thanks, Izzy.”

  The song ends, and I turn and pull my girl away from Sam.

  My girl.

  Yeah, that’s exactly what she is.

  “Having fun?” I ask.

  “I am. You?”

  “Most fun I’ve had in a while,” I say but also the most frightened I’ve ever been in my life. Tonight I plan to tell her how I feel, and I pray to fucking God she feels the same.

  We dance the night away, and when the hall shuts down, we give hugs to all our friends, who are headed to the Anchor, and we make our way to my truck to go back to the B&B. Kira is a little quiet on the drive, and I leave her to her thoughts as my heart crashes against my ribs. I can’t believe how this woman has worked her way into my closed-off heart without even trying.

  When we get to the house, Bridgette is waiting for me. We both chuckle.

  “I’ll meet you inside,” I say to Kira and give her a kiss full of promise as I walk the cow home. Once I get her settled into the barn, I hurry my steps, desperate to hold Kira in my arms, make love to her.

  The house is quiet, and I take off my boots and head upstairs, to find her in bed waiting for me, looking so warm, beautiful, and cozy, I want to crawl in there beside her and stay forever.

  “Alone at last,” I say, and she pats the mattress.

  “What took you so long?” she asks and stifles a yawn. With trying to sell, yet save the B&B, and distributing Gram’s paintings, she’s been riding so many emotional highs and lows lately, it’s exhausted her.

  “You’re not the only girl that needs my love tonight,” I say.

  Love.

  Yeah, fuck, man, I love this woman

  I strip off in record time and climb over her. Our lips touch, and she widens her legs for me, wraps them around my back. Her hands move over my body, like this could be our very last time together, and I lose myself in her silky softness. I inch back, brush her hair from her face, take in the warmth in her eyes. I need to tell her how I feel, and I need to do it right now.

  “Kira—” My words are cut off by the loud snap of the mousetrap.

  “Oh God,” Kira says and wiggles out from beneath me. Looking horrified, she hugs the blankets and scoots up against the headboard, pointing to the bathroom. “Was that…?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Ewww,” she whispers and closes her eyes. “I can’t look.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thank you.”

  I tug on my pants, head to the bathroom, and check the trap. I’m glad I was here when this happened. “Keep your eyes closed,” I say.

  I tug on my coat, carry the trap from the house, and dispose of it in the trash outside. I double-check the foundation and grab the foam from inside to touch up a spot where the mouse could have been coming and going.

  Back inside, I push open the door about to blurt out how I feel but shut my mouth when I find her fast asleep. As much as I want to snuggle in next to her, I close her door, leave her alone so she can get a good night’s sleep for a change. I guess my declaration of love will have to wait.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Kira

  I still can’t believe Nate came up with the idea of a celebration of life for Gram, and how many people helped plan it. The local grocery store sent trays of sandwiches and cases of drinks, and a few of the restaurants provided hot meals and sweets. It’s more than I could ever have asked for.

  As I sit in Gram’s favorite rocking chair, all of her friends packed into the B&B, my heart swells two sizes in my chest. A little hiccupping cry catches in my throat, and Nate takes my hand, brings it to his mouth and kisses it. I smile at him, but I’m choked up from happiness, as people in the room take turns telling stories about Gram. Some are funny, some are poignant, but all of them speak of a warm, caring woman I called Gram.

  Tears pool in my eyes, but I don’t blink them back, I let them fall, as many in the room are crying right along with me. Listening to stories about Gram is cathartic to my soul, and for the first time, I feel I’ve had a chance to say a proper goodbye, and that has given me closure.

  I glance at Nate, my heart full of love, and mouth the words, “Thank you.”

  He holds my hand and gives it a comforting squeeze. I feel it all the way to my soul. How can I walk away from here, from him? My life, work, and family are all out west, but are they really? This here, the people in this room, they’ve become a part of me, have been so inclusive that they’ve become my family. And my work. I can work on my theorem here, and at Victoria’s partnering university, Dalhousie, where I’ve made a good friend.

  So what’s stopping me?

  The B&B hasn’t sold, and I could fly out to visit my parents whenever I wanted to. But deep in my heart, I know what’s stopping me. I want this. All of this. But I want it with Nate. Question is, what does he want? The way the man touches me, looks at me, knows just what I need, hints at deeper feelings. But from the beginning, he’s been straight with me, told me he had no staying power.

  But when I see him with these people, how much he’s grown to love this community, I’m not so sure he’s right. What I do know is he’s kind, compassionate, and roots for the underdog. From what he told me, he’s the antithesis of his brothers. I think he has staying power. I think he’s just afraid to put himself out there and get himself hurt.

  A mother bailing out on you has to have a lasting impact, not to mention all the stepmothers who’ve come and gone from his life. Dr. Phil would be right. Nate leaves first so he doesn’t get hurt.

  My heart wobbles in my constricted chest, and even though I’m confused about my next steps, there is one thing I know for certain. We’ve been open and honest with each other about everything, and now it’s time to be open and honest about our true feelings.

  “Okay, okay,” Sam says and climbs to his feet as Gram’s neighbor Jack finishes telling his story. “As you all know, I was Gram’s favorite, not Jason.”

  A chorus of, “We know, we know,” goes around the room and it lightens the mood.

  “Jeez, you don’t have to be so mean,” he says, feigning hurt.

  “Sam,” I say, and the room goes quiet. “I have no doubt you were Gram’s favorite, and I want to hear your best memory of her.”

  His smile is so warm and genuine that my tears fall harder.

  “Kira, you were Gram’s pride and joy. She was so proud of you and talked of you often. Everyone here can attest to that.” I glance around the room, take in all the people nodding. “She was a matchmaker, though. When I took her to the city, she would check out the young guys. I always thought she was a cougar.” He grins, and everyone laughs. “Until she explained that she was looking for the right man for her granddaughter. It couldn’t just be any man, she’d tell me. Because you were so special, the man for you practically had to walk on water. That put me out of the running, obviously,” he says with a grin.

  “Far out of it,” Jason yells out.

  Chuckles curl around me, and from the sofa, I look at Brett, who’s sitting awfully close to Amber. We had fun that night watching the game and baking cookies afterward. Maybe, like Gram, I really am a matchmaker. That thought warms me from the inside out.

  “I felt like I knew you before I met you,” Sam continues. He takes a breath and looks down for a moment, his smile dissolving. “I was with her the day she died, Kira.”

  I swallow the knot in my throat as tears pour down my
cheek. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

  “That’s the thing; she didn’t need taking care of. She was the strongest woman I knew. She was actually trying to make it easier on me that day.”

  “I wish I could have been with her. I should have come home more often.”

  Home? I think of Lunenburg as home now?

  “Kira, don’t beat yourself up.” He puts his hand over his heart. “You were always here with Gram. She knew that. You were busy with school and work, she completely understood, but she always knew you were here with her.”

  “Thank you,” I choke out.

  “She was the most unselfish woman I knew, and her last words to me were about you. She wanted me to keep checking out the guys at the supermarket. I nearly got the shit kicked out of me for it a time or two.” He grins at me. “She wanted me to find the man who would find your daydreams adorable, who would support you in your work, and love you with every fiber of his being. All she ever wanted was for you to have a great love, the kind of love she had with your grandfather.”

  I want that, too. I want it with Nate.

  I stand, cross the floor, and put my arms around Sam. I cry into his shoulder and soak his shirt, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “Thank you,” I say as the room grows hushed. “You’re the big brother I never had but always wanted. You guys all are.” He hugs me tight and places a kiss on my forehead. I break the hug and look around the room. “Thank you all for being here. It means the world to me.”

  In that instant, the fire flares for no apparent reason, and I swear to God, I can feel Gram’s arms around me and smell her scent of warm sunshine and freshly baked bread. As my heart heals, I hug myself and take a seat, catching Nate swiping at his eyes.

  “Now, I’m pretty sure Gram would want us all to eat, and I’m certain she’d want me to have the biggest piece of lasagna,” Sam says. We all laugh, and as the room lightens, everyone stands. Chatter erupts as we make our way to the kitchen and fill our plates. We eat, we talk, we laugh, and we cry some more. With everyone wanting to talk to me, I lose sight of Nate.

  Soon enough, the afternoon has slipped away, and there is a new lightness in my soul. I say goodbye to everyone at the door and thank them again for coming. In the corner of the living room, I catch Nate checking his phone. With a frown creasing his forehead, his fingers fly over the screen as he texts. As I study him, a strange burst of unease moves through me, a restlessness that I just can’t shake.

  We need to talk, that much is sure, but as I think about the last couple of days, the private phone calls, all the texts, the strange secret way he’s been acting, it fills me with discomfort. Last night, I fell asleep while waiting for him, exhaustion from many late nights, work, and dealing with the studio and the B&B, had finally taken its toll on me. I’d expected him to crawl in beside me, wake me, and take me in his arms. But when morning came, there was no sign that he’d been in my bed.

  Is it possible that I’m reading more into this relationship than there really is? Was he only in my bed because of the sex, and once it was off the table because I was sound asleep, there was no need for him to snuggle in next to me? But then I woke up to a brand-new set of winter tires on the old land yacht. If he didn’t care, would he have done that? And I can’t forget how he snuggled me in the tent that night, just to keep me safe and warm.

  God, I don’t know what to think anymore.

  After the last of the crowd disperses, I, along with the others, start tidying up, and Nate comes into the kitchen, his hair a mess from running agitated hands through it. I catch his eyes, raise a questioning brow, as another wave of unease hits.

  “I have to go,” he says. “I have some things to take care of.”

  “Yeah, sure. You’re just trying to get out of cleaning up,” Jason teases.

  Nate takes my elbow, puts his mouth to my ear. “We need to talk,” he says, his voice so serious my pulse leaps in my throat.

  “We do,” I say.

  He glances past my shoulder to the back door. “When I get back.”

  I nod as he pulls on his winter coat and boots and disappears outside. I cross my arms over my body, suddenly chilled to the bone.

  “Have you thought any more about staying?” Jason asks, breaking my trance.

  I nod. “I have, Jason. There are a few things I need to figure out before I can commit to moving my life across the country.”

  A big smile comes over his face, over all their faces, and when they pull me into a group hug, I suck back a big hiccupping sob.

  “You guys are the best,” I say.

  “Yeah, we kind of are,” Sam says and scrapes his knuckles over my head.

  “Now, don’t give away our rooms to anyone else while we’re gone,” Cody says.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, but guys, I’ve not committed yet, so don’t get your hopes up.”

  Izzy goes back to loading the dishwasher, and once we finish cleaning, they all head to their rooms to relax. I walk around the B&B and let old memories bombard me. I step into my office, but it’s not work that’s calling to me. No, I’m ready to go to Gram’s studio, to bask in all that we shared there.

  With winter tires on my car—and I plan to pay Nate back for that, sneaky guy that he is—I dress, tug on my hat and mitts, and yell up the stairs to let everyone know I’m headed out for a bit. I grab my phone and find a message from the damn law firm, offering even more money for the studio. When will they get it through their thick heads that I’ll never sell, not in a million years, not for any amount of money?

  I message back one word. No.

  When I head outside, it’s nearing four and getting dark already, but the roads are clear, so the drive to the studio is a good one. I turn onto the cottage road, but it looks like there are two sets of fresh vehicle tracks in the snow. Odd, since the cottages are all closed up or abandoned.

  Tree branches scrape the sides of the huge vehicle as I creep slowly down the road. I glace at each cottage, but the tracks go farther, toward the studio. Perhaps it’s the Heritage Society taking stock of the place, seeing what needs doing before we can turn it into a heritage building.

  A bubble of excitement wells up inside me, but it bursts when I see Nate’s truck and a vehicle I don’t recognize. What the heck is going on? I ease into the driveway and glance around, but Nate is nowhere to be found. How does he even know about this place?

  I open my door and slide from my car, hugging myself against the breeze coming in off the ocean. Voices reach my ears as I approach the front of the house, and my footsteps still.

  “For fuck sake, Nate. I never should have trusted that you knew what you were doing.”

  “I do know what I’m doing.”

  “Just because you got some fancy fucking degree doesn’t mean you know this business better than me or your brothers, and if you want something done, you need to play hardball, not throw more money at the problem.”

  “I’ve got this under control,” Nate says, his voice deep and angry.

  “Give me the name of the owner, and I’ll show you how to get this property purchased. Jesus Christ, sometimes I wonder how you’re my son. I never wanted any of this, never even gave you my final okay, but you didn’t let that stop you. It’s too late to pull the plug now. We spent enough on securing all the other cottages. You’d better be right about all this new technology, otherwise…”

  “Otherwise, what?”

  With my blood draining to my toes, I walk around the corner, and both men go still when they see me.

  “Kira,” Nate says and glances around. “What are you doing here?”

  “I guess I don’t have to ask what you’re doing here. I just heard.”

  “Who are you?” the elderly gentleman asks rudely, like he has no time for the interruption.

  “I’m Kira Palmer,” I say. “Who are you?”

 
; “Bill Lancaster,” he says and turns from me, a quick dismissal.

  Bill Lancaster. Why does that name sound so familiar?

  “Oh my God, no,” I whisper under my breath as the tumblers click into place. William Lancaster, the guy who broke my mother’s heart, and Nate… Nate is his son? Has he been using me all this time, softening me up so he can buy Gram’s studio? What the hell would a fisherman want with the place anyway? Unless…

  My heart crashes so hard against my chest that it’s difficult to breathe, let alone think. “Who are you?”

  Nate gives me a quizzical look. “You know who I am.”

  “No, I don’t think I do,” I say.

  “He’s the goddamn CEO of Hooked, that’s who he is,” William says, impatiently. “Now, if you will leave us to discuss business.”

  CEO of Hooked?

  What the—? Wait. Boss man. How many times have I heard that and just thought it was because he was bossy, or perhaps the boss on one of the boats?

  My legs go weak, and I back up, lean against the side of the house. My God, all the signs were there. I just missed them, and now that the pieces are falling into place, I can only assume the talk he wanted to have with me later had everything to do with me selling.

  “What do you want with this place?” I ask through labored breaths. Nate takes a step toward me, but I hold my hand out to stop him. “Answer the question.”

  Nate looks from me to his father, who has a scowl on his face, back to me. “We need to buy it, so we can tear it down and put up a state-of-the-art fish processing plant. Right now, we’re working under the radar.”

  Bile punches into my throat, and I heave, sure I’m going to vomit all over Gram’s boots. Oh God, Gram would be rolling over in her grave to think Nate played me to get his hands on her studio, and I fell right into those hands.

  “You’re the CEO of Hooked, boss man, and all this time I thought you were a fisherman.” Shock turns to anger and prowls through my blood, and I shoot back with, “I said you weren’t a good liar. Wow, was I ever wrong. Here you told me your last name was Montgomery, and I believed every lie out of your mouth.” A hysterical laugh that holds no humor crawls out of my throat.