8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
When Addy opened the door, Snoot’s enthusiastic greeting nearly knocked Kieran on his ass.
“Snoot, leave it,” she commanded, and the Lab subsided, still quivering with excitement.
Addy sucked in a deep breath to keep from wiggling just as hard as her canine buddy, because damn! Kieran looked good in an old-fashioned oilskin jacket, dark jeans, and damp boots.
From his backpack, he handed her a plastic cake container and a slightly squashed bouquet of mini sunflowers, orange roses, rust-red mums, and silver-green eucalyptus.
“Sorry. Rain’s picked up. Thought I’d enjoy a walk in the mist, but…” Grinning, he removed his jacket and shook it hard, sprinkling the porch with raindrops. He draped it over the bench, then took off his boots before stepping inside.
“Pear and ginger pie this time. Hope that goes well with the delicious dish I’m smelling.” He pecked her cheek, treating her to a waft of cologne that smelled like a forest—a secluded grove where she and Kieran could indulge in some naughty, naked fun on a soft bed of pine needles and…
He cleared his throat. “You okay, Addy?” His auburn brows contracted. “You look a little wobbly.”
Get your shit together, Connor!
She forced a laugh. “I’m grand. Just forgot to eat lunch. Come in, let’s get started.”
“Let’s start with this.” With a hand on the small of her back, he pulled her in for a soft, gentle kiss that quickly deepened to hot, wet bliss.
Addy’s knees turned to water.
“Whoa.” Kieran chuckled through a wicked grin. “Let’s get some food in you before you pass out.”
She fetched the platter of apéritif snacks she’d prepared earlier: marinated olives and mushrooms, salted almonds, and fancy crackers.
“I made us a mocktail to start.” In truth, she spent far too long this morning diving down an internet rabbit hole before selecting this concoction of ginger beer, honey, lemon, and mint.
When she returned with his glass, she found Kieran setting the table with the dishes and flatware she’d left on the counter, as easy and natural as if they dined together all the time. And he’d rolled up the sleeves on his soft chambray shirt, too. She nearly swooned.
He clinked his glass to hers and sipped.
“Wow. Spicy and delicious.” The merry twinkle in his eye suggested a deeper meaning.
“But really, if you’d prefer something stronger, I don’t mind.
I just—” He scrubbed his hand through his hair, rumpling it adorably.
“When the memories get bad, it’s too tempting to drown them, you know?
After watching my dad drink away all the best parts of himself, I prefer to avoid alcohol. ”
“Right.” She gently gripped his muscular, ginger-furred forearm. “Thanks for being so open with me, Kieran.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Why not? You and I have a lot in common. Might as well enjoy this connection while it lasts.”
A flicker of sadness passed over his gaze, almost too quick to notice, then disappeared. “So.” He stabbed a mushroom with a souvenir cocktail fork. “Are you any closer to choosing your path?”
“Perhaps a little. Like you said last night—gotta list the pros and cons, then give it all time to marinate.” Chasing a slippery olive with her fork, she confessed, “I’m not the best at making quick decisions. Not big ones that matter, anyway.”
“I’m the other way ‘round.” He speared an olive with impressive dexterity. “I listen to my gut.” He nudged her knee with his. “Probably should use my head more often, eh?”
That twinkle in his eye made her feel like the two of them were conspiring to do something delightfully naughty instead of just sharing salty snacks. She nudged him back. “Seems to me you’re doing well. You’ve found a job that fits your storyteller's soul and a home with a view to die for.”
“That I have.” He gave a lopsided grin. “And until recently, I was content living there alone.”
Sparks danced along her nerves like Morse code. “How recently?”
His fingertips brushed the back of her hand. “Quite recently.”
Holy smoke, this flirtation was heating up fast. Belly quivering with excitement, Addy scurried to the kitchen to fetch their dinner. She set the Dutch oven on a trivet—shaped like a pair of orcas, of course.
Kieran took a big sniff of the fragrant steam and moaned.
A zing of awareness sizzled over Addy’s skin, settling at the apex of her thighs. Kieran Gallagher was going to be the death of her. Or maybe her rebirth?
Slamming a lid onto that dangerous thought, she served him a big scoop of rice pilaf and topped it with golden chicken, meltingly soft red and green peppers, and crimson sauce. “Basque-style chicken. I hope you like it.”
He took a bite, chewed for a moment, then clapped a hand to his heart and slumped back in his seat as if he’d been shot. “Incredible.”
“Pfft.” Secretly delighted, she waved off the compliment with a flick of her fingers. “It’s just stewed chicken.”
“What’s the spice?” He forked up another big bite.
“The recipe calls for piment d’Espelètte, which is hard to find, but I found Aleppo pepper at the Food Co-op. Not bad for a small-town grocery store.”
He gave her a crooked grin. “We’re not completely uncivilized here. The Co-op even offers gourmet cooking lessons the first Saturday of the month. Maybe you could come down next month?”
She clenched her napkin. “Oh, I…”
Kieran’s smile slipped a little. “Of course, you must be very busy.”
Well, crap. Way to spoil the mood.
She laid her hand over his. “Look, Kieran, I like you and I like this place. I hope to come back soon, but I’m not in a position to make any promises.”
“Of course. I understand.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Tell you what—tomorrow’s my day off. What do you say to a tour of the town?” He waggled his eyebrows. “I know all the best places.”
She laughed and dug into her own portion. “All right, you’re on.”
Kieran mopped up a smear of sauce with his bread. “I hope last night’s visit from the White Widow didn’t trouble your sleep.”
“Oh, I didn’t dream of the ghost.” Not the one they saw last night, anyway.
Her dreams had been a swirl of wrenching memories: overcrowded hospital bays, blood-smeared hands clutching at her scrubs, ragged voices pleading for relief from the pain.
And there at the end of the endless corridor stood Kieran, dressed like an orderly and asking, “How can I help?”
Her frantic dream-self shoved medical implements into his hands—syringes and IV bags and scalpels—barking orders until he stumbled backward and dropped the lot, slicing a long gash on his leg.
“Great,” she’d cried, “now I’ll have to stitch you up too.”
But Kieran wasn’t flustered tonight. Leaning onto his elbows, holding her gaze, he looked ready to take on all her baggage.
Wishful thinking, much? She gave her head a little shake. “Sorry, wandered off for a moment.”
“Happens to the best of us.” Reaching across the table, he took both her hands in his. “Ready for some pie?”
Arousal crackled along her nerves, but he only meant dessert, damn it. She pulled herself together and rose to clear away the plates, but Kieran beat her to it. “You cook, I clean.”
She trailed him into the kitchen. “But you did both jobs last night.”
He threw a playful glance over his shoulder. “Are you always this contentious?”
He set the dishes in the sink, then clasped her shoulders, brushed a soft kiss over her lips, and steered her back to her seat. “You have so much responsibility in your life, but right now, you’re on vacation. Let someone else take charge for a moment.”
Hoo boy, did she want to let Kieran take charge! What would it be like to place herself in his strong, work-roughened hands? To feel his skin against hers, his beard tickling her breasts, his hot, wicked mouth gliding down, down, down—
His powerful thigh brushed her arm as he set down a plate with a large slice of streusel-topped pie.
Flushing hotly, she stared from the dessert to his face. He rotated his chair, straddled it, sturdy thighs spread wide, and forked up a big bite. “This is a new recipe. I want to know what you think, Addy.” He raised the morsel to her mouth.
Her lips closed around flakey crust, plump fruit, and sweet spice. A moan of bliss escaped before she could rein it in.
Kieran’s gaze lasered onto her lips. His voice rumbled like distant thunder—not yet dangerous, but closing fast. “There’s nothing sexier than a beautiful woman surrendering to pleasure.”
Heat coursed through her veins, frying her last thread of restraint. Driven by something more powerful than common sense, she shoved the plate aside, fisted his shirt, and tugged him into a devouring kiss.
Kieran’s mouth was a wonder of silken heat. Spearing his fingers into her hair, he took control, angling her head to stroke deeper, melting away all thoughts of ticking clocks and consequences.
A low growl and a nudge on her calf reminded her they weren’t alone.
Chuckling, Kieran broke the kiss. “Hey, buddy, I’m not hurting her.” His gaze softened as he cupped Addy’s cheek. “I’d never do that.”
Addy blew out a breath and arranged her features in a semblance of calm. “Kieran’s our friend, Snoot.”
Head tilted, the dog looked from her face to Kieran’s, trying to decode this new behavior. And that’s when it hit her—in the year plus that Snoot had been her companion, he’d never seen her kissing a man. Not until yesterday.
She ruffled his furry head. “All good, love. Now, bed.” She pointed to the cushion near the hearth.
With a canine grumble, Snoot slunk to his bed, circled, and lay down.
Kieran grasped Addy’s hand and dropped soft kisses over her knuckles. “Perhaps we should take this to another room?” His eyebrows flicked up, and oh—those dancing hazel eyes, sparkling with mischief. He scanned her body, and…
Oh God, I’m going to get naked with this man!
She braced herself for an icy wash of insecurity, her usual reaction to undressing with a new partner, but the feeling never came, dispelled by the hunger in Kieran’s gaze. He wanted this as much as she did.
A wicked grin stretched her lips. Liv prescribed self-care this week, and Addy had a hunch that Kieran was going to care for her needs until her bones melted.