Chapter Twenty
Chessie
Kingi just laughs and finishes off Thea’s sandwich, but I bite my bottom lip and study my coffee cup.
What am I doing letting him kiss me? Haven’t I got enough to worry about, without falling for this gorgeous guy?
Kingi has great potential to break my fragile heart.
I still believe that this Cinderella will never get her prince, and she’d be foolish to even contemplate it.
I watch Kingi as he starts preparing the vegetables.
He does it like a guy—making a mess, slicing unevenly, and then chopping as if he’s got a personal vendetta against the onion and carrots, but I’m impressed that he even cooks.
Tamati’s skills extended to opening a can of beans and putting bread in the toaster.
While I was on the phone to Mum, I half-listened to him talking to Thea. He’s so good with children and young adults. He manages to be both approachable and kind of fatherly. He’s going to be fantastic at the Foundation.
“Do you want kids?” I ask.
He doesn’t look up, busy chopping the celery. “Gotta find a wife first.” He gives me a brief smile, then carries on.
“When we were at dinner with Orson and Scarlett, you said you don’t think marriage is for you. Is that because your parents are getting divorced?”
He shrugs. “I think it’s a lot to ask of people to stay with someone for the rest of their life. The fact that so many marriages end in divorce supports that. And lots of people have affairs. Breakups are hard. Why put yourself through that?”
“I do get that.” I lean my head on a hand, watching as he heats up some olive oil in a pan. “But you’d make such a great dad.”
“I’m terrible with babies.”
“Everyone is at the beginning. Don’t you think it would be nice, though, to make a baby with someone? A little piece of you and them to cherish?” I feel a pang inside as I say it, a tug deep inside me I haven’t felt before.
He studies the pan for a moment, then tips up the chopping board and scrapes the vegetables into the hot oil. Some of them go onto the hob, and he spends a moment picking them up and popping them in the pan before he starts tossing them in the hot oil.
Is he going to answer me? It doesn’t look like it. Is that because he’s considering it for the first time? Or because he definitely doesn’t want children, and he just doesn’t want to say?
I think about that weird tug I felt deep inside. I haven’t given a lot of thought to having my own kids, but I’ve always known I want them eventually. It’s the first time I’ve felt broody, though. Maybe it’s just being near such a perfect example of masculinity. He makes my ovaries ache.
“You want kids?” he asks.
“Eventually.”
He looks over at me and meets my eyes, and it makes me catch my breath. He holds my gaze for about ten seconds, then looks back at the pan and continues frying the vegetables. He doesn’t say anything more, but my heart continues to race for a bit.
“Can you open the tin?” he asks.
I get up and go around the breakfast bar, find the tin opener in the drawer, and open the tomatoes while he starts frying the mince. Once it’s done, I take it over to him and lean a hip against the worktop next to the hob and watch him.
“How did the meeting with Sabrina go?” I ask.
“Ah, it went very well, thanks to you.”
“Me?”
“Your advice about the North Wind and the Sun proved very useful. She admitted she’s not pregnant.”
I inhale, and I know my face has lit up, because he smiles. “Oh.” Heat rushes through me, along with another wave of emotion. I bite my lip, waiting for it to die down.
“We actually had quite a nice chat,” Kingi says, adding the tomatoes to the mince. “And I’ve offered her a position on the Foundation as Director of Outreach and Youth Mentor, to inspire Māori girls.”
“Ohhh… That was a very smart move.” He hasn’t gotten where he is in business without learning how to make clever decisions.
“She’s on several other boards, and she’s apparently done very well with them, so I think she’ll be able to do a good job with us. But I won’t be seeing much of her. I’ll let Moana deal with her mainly.” He glances at me, his brows drawing together.
I study him, puzzled, as he takes some spaghetti out of the cupboard, measures out a few handfuls, and puts the kettle on to boil. He assumed I wouldn’t like him seeing her. He thought I’d be jealous.
“It makes perfect sense to offer her something,” I say softly. “To make her feel valued. I think it’s a great idea.”
“Oh, I’m glad. I didn’t want you to think I did it because I wanted to see more of her.” He glances at me, meets my eyes for a moment, then looks back at the hob.
This is only a fake engagement. But it’s impossible not to wonder what it would feel like if it was real. To have a guy like this at your side, protecting you, supporting you. Loving you. The thought takes my breath away.
I really mustn’t think about things like that. But it’s impossible to stop my brain once it starts. Imagine being able to hug him whenever I want, to kiss him whenever the mood strikes me.
To make love to him whenever I feel like it…
And now I’m thinking about our sexting, and the way he said he’d tip me onto the carpet, pin my hands above my head, and fuck me hard.
Oh God.
He glances at me then, his amber eyes bright. “Don’t look at me like that,” he says.
“Like what?”
His lips curve up. “You know like what.”
“I was just thinking about our message conversation.”
He looks across at Thea, then back at me as he murmurs, “Don’t start talking about that, unless you want me to kiss you senseless.”
We study each other for a moment, remembering what we said to one another. Is he feeling as breathless as I am?
To my surprise, he reaches out and cups my cheek. “You should go and sit with Thea. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
My eyebrows rise. “What do you mean?”
He strokes my cheek with his thumb. “You’ve had a big shock today. It’s natural to look for comfort when you’re feeling vulnerable.”
I swallow hard. It’s true that my emotions are floating near the surface, refusing to be pushed down like a piece of polystyrene in water.
That’s not why I’m feeling such attraction to him though.
Is it? For a moment I feel confused. Maybe it is, partly.
The thought of being distracted and spirited away from reality is extremely appealing at the moment.
It would be amazing to lose myself in him, and let all my cares float away.
But that’s unrealistic, and stupid, because I’d only have to deal with the fallout the next day, as he found out with Sabrina.
We try to shove our emotions and actions into boxes, but they’re like ferrets; as soon as you lift the lid, they’ll sneak a paw through the crack and be running around causing havoc before you can count to three.
So I join Thea in the living room, and I sit beside her and help her color in her picture as we watch The Little Mermaid. While he stirs the dinner and sets the table, Kingi sings along to the songs, and we giggle as he gets the words wrong, but it doesn’t seem to stop him.
Not long after that, he announces that dinner is ready, so we turn off the TV and join him at the square table in the kitchen.
He’s prepared Bearcub’s dinner and puts it to one side of the kitchen for the puppy to eat, then joins us at the table.
He and I sit opposite each other, with Thea on one side between us.
He tucks a tea towel into his T-shirt, then offers Thea one to cover her clothing, and she copies him, tucking it into her top to protect it from the sauce that will inevitably stain. I hide a smile as he winks at me.
He dishes us both up a big plate of spaghetti and heaps several spoonfuls of the Bolognese on, then offers us a dish of grated cheese to sprinkle on top. He’s also sliced an uncut crusty loaf into thick slices and buttered them.
We dig in, twirling our forks in the spaghetti.
I hadn’t realized how hungry I was, and I devour the meal with gusto, using the bread to mop up the delicious sauce.
Even though the kitchen is a mess, filled with numerous pans and food scattered across the surfaces, I can forgive him because it’s so delicious.
Thea takes longer to finish, but we sit and chat while she eats, her mouth stained with sauce. I’m glad she’s coping okay. I can’t imagine how she must be feeling, but she’s a smart girl, wise beyond her years, and she seems determined to try and understand and cope with what’s happening.
After she finishes her dinner, Kingi asks if she’d take Bearcub out to the garden.
It’s dark now, but he has big security lights that come on as she opens the door and goes onto the deck.
She takes Bearcub onto the grass while Kingi and I rinse the dishes and stack the dishwasher.
Then we make a coffee and take it into the living room.
Thea comes back in with the puppy, and we close the doors and settle down to watch another movie.
Thea sits on the floor and colors next to Bearcub.
At first, Kingi and I sit at each end of the sofa.
I curl up, my gaze drifting out of the window as I think about Mark and my father and wonder how they’re doing.
Mum has promised to contact me if there’s any change in their conditions, but she said it’s probably going to be a quiet evening, with both of them getting some rest and recovering overnight.