Chapter Ten #2
It was as though he was outside his body, listening to someone else speaking, watching a stranger, totally removed from everything.
For thousands of years, he’d been slipping toward this cold, empty place.
The truth, which he rarely acknowledged, was that he’d imprisoned his softer emotions; not to keep them captive, but to protect them.
Being a reaper had taken a heavy toll on him in the early years.
Only a small few humans welcomed death when it came.
Most fought and cursed or cried, not ready to accept the end.
It was either suppress his empathy and caring or go insane.
It was a weakness he’d sought to hide from his brothers and father.
While his actions had the intended results, there’d been unexpected consequences.
He’d repressed his feelings too well, smothering them until there was barely anything to protect.
Opening himself up to Georgia had released what was left, leaving him vulnerable and teetering on the edge of total darkness.
Her death would destroy what remained, leaving only a raging river of icy fury and a volcano of self-loathing in its wake.
There were no winners in all of this. None of them would walk away unscathed. The women would have another chance at life, and his brothers would regain their immortality, but it would all come at a steep cost—his absolute obliteration.
…
As Georgia inhaled the familiar scents of sugar, chocolate, and vanilla, some of her tension slipped away.
On the walk here, she’d gone back and forth, wondering if she’d done the right thing ducking out on Kieran without telling him.
She’d almost turned around several times and gone back, but she’d convinced herself he needed the time with his brothers.
After all, they were the reason he was here.
Baking was all about recipes and precise amounts. It was what she understood. Relationships and men, not so much. She could only hope Kieran and his brothers would work out whatever was causing the friction between them.
Bins of flour and sugar sat open on the counter for easy access.
The artisan mini-loaves of bread she made twice a week were out of the question.
They took too much time, and she was already running way behind.
Croissants were a no-go for the same reason.
Simple was the goal today. That meant it was back to basics with muffins, cupcakes, and cookies.
Recipes were unnecessary. She’d made these items so many times she knew them by heart.
When it came to baking, she had a memory like a steel trap.
She was also wary about writing them down.
Call her paranoid, but she’d seen other bakers steal recipes from co-workers and friends and pass them off as their own.
Not to mention employers stealing recipes from their staff.
Since she had plans of someday writing a cookbook, she guarded her culinary secrets closely. They weren’t even on her laptop.
David had begged and wheedled for her white chocolate fudge brownie recipe, but she’d held firm, making it only at home and only when she was alone.
While every cookie had a standard recipe, it was tweaking ingredients and amounts that made the difference.
She measured and poured, getting one batter into each mixer before starting another by hand.
Multitasking was essential. Muffins were first, then she’d do cupcakes and get them cooling while she made buttercream frosting.
Her heart skipped a beat when the back door opened and Kieran walked in.
Outwardly, nothing had changed. He was still impossibly tall and sexy; the gray T-shirt he wore clung to broad shoulders and a wide chest. No, outwardly he was the same, but it was as though he was a stranger.
There was something not right. It was nothing she could put her finger on, but she could sense it to the depths of her bones.
His eyes told the story. They’d always been black, but there was an icy chill in them that had been lacking before, a complete and utter lack of emotion. It was as though a switch had been flipped inside him, turning off what made him human.
Now I’m being fanciful. He’d probably had a fight with his brothers. She wiped her hands on her apron. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“So I heard.”
His words dripped with frost. It seemed as though the temperature in the room had dropped twenty degrees.
There was no doubt he was angry—with her, his brothers, or all three of them.
She refused to be intimidated. This was her kitchen.
“You don’t officially work here. While I appreciate your help, it’s not permanent.
” It would be a relief when he finally left.
His absence would also haunt her for the rest of her life.
Dramatic maybe, but true, nonetheless. Kieran Blackwell was the kind of man who left a mark wherever he went.
He’d not only saved her life, he was also an incredible lover.
She turned off both mixers and lifted the bowls onto the counter.
The muffin pans had been prepped with paper liners, so she got to work scooping batter into them.
Kieran didn’t speak, didn’t move. She wasn’t sure he was actually breathing.
Ignoring the trembling in her hands, she filled the pans and got them into the oven.
“While impressive, your statue impersonation is annoying.” Yesterday, even earlier this morning, he would have made some quick quip, maybe grinned.
Now, there wasn’t even a twitch of his lips.
His cold and utterly impassive stare sent a shiver creeping over her. She didn’t recognize this man at all.
Her hand went to the phone in her back pocket.
Maybe she should call his brothers. Maybe she should call Cal.
Then her temper ignited. This was her kitchen, damn it, her happy place.
She pointed at the door. “If all you’re going to do is glare, you can leave.
Your bad vibes aren’t good for the baked goods. ”
“That’s not the agreement.” Even his voice lacked inflection. What in the name of God had happened after she’d left the diner?
“We don’t have an agreement, not a formal one.
You paid for the apartment for a week.” She wouldn’t kick him out.
That wouldn’t be fair. “If you want to leave, I’ll refund the money.
” The financial boost wasn’t worth the aggravation.
“I don’t have time for your mood swings. I have a business to run.”
“Mood swings?” He canted his head to one side, studying her as though she was some interesting science experiment.
“What else would you call them?” She wondered if anyone really knew this man.
Not the laid-back image he’d projected when he’d first arrived.
Not this emotionless automaton. But the real Kieran.
When they’d made love last night, she’d thought she’d caught moments of honest emotion, but now she feared she was mistaken.
“Attentive lover” seemed to be another role he had no problem playing.
“You left without a word.”
Maybe she had been a coward, ducking out the back door of the diner.
It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
“I apologize for that. In my defense, I assumed you’d talk more freely if I wasn’t there.
Your brothers live with Adrianne and Cilla.
You’re renting from me. I was the only outsider. ”
Though no one’s fault, it had hurt. She’d spent most of her life on the outside looking in. The one time she’d thought she’d found her place with someone, it had all been a lie. She’d made her own place here, and she’d be damned if she’d let anyone steal her joy, including Kieran.
Blasting hot water into the dirty bowls, she scrubbed them with a vengeance.
She spun around to confront him once and for all, then jerked back.
He was right behind her. The bowl dropped into the sink, splattering water over her, and her hand went to her chest, her heart racing.
For a big man, he moved like a shadow. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. ”
“You’re not an outsider.” There was nothing in his tone to convince her otherwise.
“Simply saying it doesn’t make it true.” She resumed her task, which was much easier than looking at him.
It was impossible to think with the heat radiating from his body and the scent of his soap tickling her nose.
“Look, you obviously have personal issues to deal with, and I don’t do drama, not anymore.
Been there, done that. Last night was wonderful.
” Understatement of the century. “But it’s over and done. ”
She waited to hear the door closing, for some sign he’d left. Warm breath skated over her nape. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Closing her eyes, she took a fortifying breath. “This is my place. I say who goes and who stays.” She tried to sound firm and failed miserably.
“You need the help.” The blunt truth of the matter didn’t help.
Anger bubbling to a boil, she turned and poked her index finger at his chest. “I know what I need, and it’s not you.
” There wasn’t as much as a flicker in his eyes.
She absolutely detested getting angry. It left her unsettled and changed nothing.
“Right now, you’re hindering more than helping.
I’m already behind. I can’t afford to lose even a single day of income at this point.
” Her business was too new, was still gaining traction in the community.
A muscle in his jaw flexed; his eyes narrowed. He took a step back, giving her much-needed breathing space. “Let me help you.”
The whisper sent a chill through her. Was that longing she heard, or was that no more than her imagination? Kieran wasn’t a bad person, just a man dealing with family issues she knew nothing about.
Without giving her time to reply, he gently elbowed her aside, washed his hands, grabbed a dishtowel, and began to dry the clean mixing bowls.
Torn between tossing him out and being grateful for the assistance, she gave into the inevitable, but not without a warning. “Only good vibes in this kitchen.”
No change in his dark eyes, not the slightest twinkle, but he did nod.
Sighing, she placed her hand against his cheek, cursing herself for being a sucker for a wounded soul. Like recognized like. Whatever was going on in his life, he was in a bad place. “I’m sorry things didn’t go better with your brothers.”
Something flickered in his eyes, then vanished as fast as it had appeared. He slowly raised his hand and rested it over hers, pressing hers tighter against his face. She swallowed heavily, sensing there was more to the gesture than a simple touch.
He lowered his head. Her lips parted, even as she cursed herself for a fool.
When he hesitated, she stepped away, breaking contact.
Whatever this was between them, it couldn’t end well.
It was best to call a halt now, before she got in deeper than she already was.
With a reluctant sigh, she turned back to the worktable.
“I’m making cupcakes next. Then cookies.
” She glanced up at the large clock on the wall.
“We’ll have to hurry. Time’s running out. ”
Kieran made a sound akin to pain. It made all the fine hairs on her body stand on end.
A brisk knock sounded on the back door. Georgia wanted to scream. “What now?” she muttered, striding toward the door. She’d ignore it, but it might be a regular customer. She couldn’t afford to alienate the locals.
She opened the door, and the bottom fell out of her stomach as the past and present collided. “David?”