Chapter Six
Talk about a loaded question. A night or more of hot, sweaty sex immediately sprang to mind.
Georgia’s feisty nature appealed to Kieran.
Every cell in his body sang at the thought, but her expression told him that if he suggested such a thing, she’d likely commit violence.
And it wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
He was here to collect her soul, and soon.
He was becoming too intrigued by her as it was without adding a sexual component to the already muddied waters.
“No game. What you see is what you get.” It was a lie he’d told so often it rolled easily off his tongue. A pang of what might be regret knotted his gut. It didn’t help that it was what he had to do, what was safer.
Georgia snorted. “Right? I know absolutely nothing about you other than your name, the city where you live, and that you can make coffee and ring up sales. Oh, and you have two brothers, one of which was pissed off enough with you this morning to hit you. It’s only two, isn’t it, or should we expect another Blackwell to show up sometime soon? ”
He bit the inside of his mouth to keep from smiling. He doubted she was finding it amusing, but damned if he wasn’t. This was a woman who didn’t back down from anyone or anything. The longer he spent around her the more he admired her. “Nope, there are no more Blackwells.”
“You should be watching the front counter, and I need to get back to work.”
“The bell over the door will ring if anyone comes in.” He considered his options and went with his instinct. “What do you want to know about me?”
The widening of her eyes told him he’d caught her off guard. That was confirmation he’d made the right decision. He needed to keep the upper hand if he wanted to stay on target.
“You’re serious?”
He held his arms out by his sides. “Ask me anything.” He was a master of prevarication.
It was a survival skill he’d honed to a razor’s edge over the years.
He needed her relaxed and accepting of him, otherwise he might get booted out of the bakery and sent to the motel.
His instincts screamed that he needed to stay close.
He’d do whatever it took to accomplish that.
She chewed her bottom lip, her uncertainty visible. His gaze narrowed in on her plump lips. He wanted to taste them, to see if they were sweet. Surely she tasted the frosting to ensure quality? His mouth watered. He’d always had a sweet tooth.
“What do you do for a living?”
He lifted his eyes to meet hers. If he kept looking at her mouth, they’d both be in trouble. “I’m a silent partner in a variety of restaurants.”
“Not an easy business.” She lifted the piping bag and began to make perfect swirls on top of the white cupcakes, the action fluid, something she’d done thousands of times before.
Mesmerized, he leaned closer to watch. “It has its moments. I enjoy food. Every country has something special to offer.” That was as true now as it was thousands of years ago.
“It made sense to follow my passion.” While under the umbrella of Blackwell Enterprises, a company owned by him and his brothers, the restaurants were solely his.
“Is that where you learned your barista skills?”
His fascination with coffee had begun shortly after the bean was discovered, and it had only grown over time. “I’ve picked up a few things along the way.” Including ownership in coffee plantations around the world.
“Hmm.” She set the piping bag on the counter and picked up a shaker of sprinkles, liberally scattering them over the icing. “Do you bake?”
“Rarely. It’s too precise a science. Cooking allows me to freestyle with flavors and ingredients.” Cooking was freedom from reaping, from worry. The introspection was making him uncomfortable. “My turn. Why a baker?”
Finished with the first tray, she picked up a different piping bag and went to work on the next batch.
“I’m honestly not sure where it came from.
I can’t remember a time I wasn’t trying out recipes.
I had my own small business as a teenager selling cookies and cakes and the occasional pie.
It helped finance my education at baking school.
After I finished training, I worked several places to gain experience in different specialties and ended up in Boston.
” She frowned and glanced toward the front. “It’s awfully quiet out there.”
“It’s been nonstop all morning. Everyone came early to check me out. I came in to tell you we’re out of croissants and low on muffins.”
“You should have called me to help.”
“I had it handled. Truthfully, I enjoyed it.” It had been a long time since he’d been hands-on. These days, most of his time was spent crunching numbers. His only true connection with food came when he cooked for himself, usually late at night.
The smile she flashed made her entire face light up. “It has its moments.”
He remembered the flush of early success, of building something from the ground up.
As a reaper, he hadn’t had to work. Most of their kind remained on Earth just long enough to complete assignments and returned to Shadowland during their off time.
He and his brothers had always been different.
Fascinated with humans and the world, they’d spent as much time here as possible.
As the Grim Reaper’s sons, they weren’t shunned, but neither were they accepted by other reapers. All they had was each other.
He could almost see why his brothers were so smitten by the women they were involved with. Almost. Giving up everything for them? That he couldn’t fathom.
“The hours are killer, but I can’t imagine doing anything else.” Her skin gleamed with perspiration, and if she’d worn any makeup, it was long gone. She’d already put in a day’s work for a normal job and showed no sign of stopping, yet her eyes glowed with happiness.
His chest constricted, his throat tightened.
This bright light would soon be gone. “I’ll get the empty racks.
” He didn’t flee, but it was damn close.
It was self-preservation. He couldn’t afford to fall into the same trap his brothers had.
He liked and admired Georgia. He would enjoy making love to her, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t, save her from her destiny.
That was written by the Fates and couldn’t be unwritten. Only it had, hadn’t it? If his brothers had failed… A customer came in, distracting him from his musings. Five customers later, two of which were settled in at tables, he carried the empty racks to the kitchen.
“I put the remaining muffins in one rack and moved the labels. We’re low on cookies and brownies.”
“That’s fine. I have plenty of both of those. The tray of tarts is ready to go.”
The rest of the morning and the lunch rush went by in a flurry. At one point, both he and Georgia were working nonstop to fill orders. Finally, at two o’clock, there was a lull. Hand against her back, she stretched. “I’m beat.”
He rolled his head to relieve the stress in his neck. Being tired was new. He couldn’t say he particularly liked it. Again, it made him question his brothers’ choices. “You should eat something.” As far as he could tell, she hadn’t had a bite all day.
“You’re done for the day. I can manage for another couple of hours. Take yourself out for lunch at Susie’s, maybe see your brothers.”
“Trying to get rid of me again?” Arms crossed, he leaned against the counter.
“You didn’t sign on to work full-time. And you have to be starving. Have you eaten at all today?”
She was truly concerned, trying to take care of him.
It was an odd sensation. People had gotten close to him over the millennia for many reasons—power, money, and sex being the top three.
Most were intimidated by his presence. Not only by his size, but by the vibe he gave off as a reaper.
His size didn’t seem to put her off in the least. As for his reaper vibes, they seemed to be as muted as the rest of his abilities.
He had to assume they’d work when the time came, otherwise there was no point in him being here.
“Well, have you?” she demanded.
“Eaten? No. Have you?”
“I snuck a muffin a couple of hours ago.”
“Not enough.” He pushed away from the counter. “What do you want from the diner? I’ll bring it back.”
“There’s no need. I have sandwiches in the refrigerator. There’s enough for two if you’d like.” Her eyes twinkled. “And maybe a brownie or a cupcake.”
He chuckled. “You don’t get tired of sweets?”
“Never. Can’t you tell?” She patted a hand against her hip.
“You look perfect.” His voice hoarse, his body roared to attention. She might not be model-thin, but that had never attracted him.
The bell rang, interrupting them. She fled to the back while he swallowed a curse.
By the time she returned with their lunch on a tray, the customer had departed.
“Want to eat outside?” Her smile seemed a bit forced, but she wasn’t backing away.
“I don’t know about you, but I could use a breath of fresh air.
Get a drink and something for dessert for yourself. ”
There were a couple of bistro tables on the sidewalk in front of the store for customers to sit at and enjoy their coffee. “Sounds good. What can I get you?”
“I have water, but I wouldn’t mind a brownie.” Expertly handling the tray, she opened the door and went outside. Wasting no time, he put two brownies on a plate, grabbed a bottle of water for himself, and joined her.
The warm breeze was welcome, wicking away the sweat from his brow. The sun was on the opposite side of the street, leaving them in the shade. Kicked back in the chair, Georgia closed her eyes and made a small sound of pleasure. “This feels glorious.”
The long line of her throat tempted him. From there, he could go upward and nibble on her ear, taste her lips. Or he could go down and discover more of her secrets. He shifted restlessly in his seat.