26. Killian
26
KILLIAN
“How long do you think you’re going to be?” I ask Mason and Jake as they pull on their jackets and shoes at the door.
“I don’t know,” Jake replies with a shrug. “Could be a couple of hours, maybe more. We might pick up some supplies while we’re in the city too, since we’re going in for this interview anyway.”
I nod. “I guess so,” I agree. “I’ll see you when I see you. If you need anything, call.”
“I will,” Mason replies, and he nods his goodbye before he heads to the door. I stand there, leaning up against the frame for a moment as I watch them go.
We were all up early this morning. I guess, after everything that’s happened, it’s hard to imagine just sleeping instead of tossing and turning with questions all night long.
Because last night was something new. Something new for all of us. Sharing a woman like that, it’s nothing close to anything we’ve done before—shit, nothing I’ve even thought about doing, even with all the women I’ve been with. But seeing Vanessa like that, seeing her utterly lost to the pleasure that all three of us were bringing her, it was the most goddamn erotic thing in the world.
And maybe we could have talked about that, if we hadn’t gotten a call from the cops first thing this morning, asking someone to come in and point out the details of our attack on a map for them. They asked for Vanessa, but we managed to convince them to let a couple of us come down to do it for them. She was still asleep upstairs, in Jake’s bed, and we didn’t want to wake her before she was ready.
So now they’re heading off, and I’m left here with Vanessa and Callie, and the weight of everything that happened in the last two days. Not just the kidnapping, but what Vanessa said to us. About wanting us in their lives. About wanting my brothers and me to be there for her.
I head to the kitchen and set about making some breakfast. I should make myself useful. There’s something weirdly peaceful, despite the circumstances, about making breakfast for the two of them—like this is something I’ve been doing every day for as long as I can remember. I crack a few eggs, and get to making us some bacon.
Soon, the kitchen is filled with warm, savory scents, and I hear footsteps creaking down the stairs. Glancing around, I see Vanessa, her hair a little messy from last night, creeping down the staircase toward me.
“You lured me with all the delicious smells,” she murmurs, propping herself up against the counter. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“It’s not really cooking,” I laugh.
“Well, it’s more cooking than I can do,” she shoots back. “You remember how we met? When I nearly burned my kitchen down?”
“I thought you said that was just a burned pie…”
“Yeah, well, I’m a journalist,” she reminds me. “You know I love to make things up…”
I chuckle again as she glances around, looking for the other two.
“Where are…?”
“The cops called them in,” I reply. She tenses at once, but I glance over at her, shaking my head. “Nothing serious,” I promise. “They just wanted a few more details about what happened yesterday.”
“Oh, okay,” she replies, breathing a sigh of relief. “I thought I was going to have to go all the way back to the city…”
“You’re in the clear,” I assure her. “I don’t know what time they’ll be back, but I’m making breakfast for the three of us in the meantime.”
“The three of us,” she echoes after me, smiling slightly. “You know, I like the way that sounds.”
“What part?”
“The part where Callie and I are included,” she remarks, pressing her head against my back for a moment.
“You’re always included,” I assure her, and I ease away from her so I can serve up something to eat before the bacon gets burned to a crisp. “Could you grab a couple of plates down from the cupboard…?”
She does as I ask, standing on tiptoe to open the door. I notice the tee she was sleeping in riding up slightly above her shorts, showing off a strip of her bare belly. I almost get distracted, until the scent of burning bacon meets my nostrils and I’m reminded of what I’m meant to be doing here.
I clear my throat as she lays the plates out next to me, and she observes me for a moment, tipping her head to the side as she watches me.
“What is it?” I ask, raising my eyebrows at her.
“Nothing, I just…” She pauses for a moment, clearly considering how best to phrase this. “I just figure that you’ve made a lot of breakfasts for women, over the years.”
“What’s that meant to mean?” I chuckle.
“You were so charming with me when we met,” she teases. “I guess you’ve had a lot of time to practice on lots of women, over the years…”
“You make it sound as though that’s the only thing I’ve been doing with my life.”
“I don’t know, isn’t it?” she fires back, grinning. “You could have a whole harem of women that I know nothing about…”
“Oh, and that’s your business, why?” I counter, taking the food off the heat and turning to her, wrapping my arms around her waist tight. “As long as you’re one of them…”
She leans up to kiss me, brushing aside the last part of my sentence as our mouths come together once more. I push my hand into her hair and pull her against me. Last night, the look on her face when she came—it’s burned into my brain, stirring desire in me even now when I should be focused on making breakfast.
“I just mean,” she murmurs as she pulls back, pausing for a moment to speak. “That I was with three men last night. I wouldn’t exactly have any room to complain if you were with other women…”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” I assure her, brushing my thumbs along her cheeks. “You’re the only woman I want.”
“Good,” she giggles. “Because I want all three of you all to myself…”
We both laugh as we fall into another kiss, but his one grows a little more hot and heavy than the last, and I spin her around to press her against the counter, the food forgotten…
Until both of us hear a noise on the stairs behind us, and we spring apart—there’s only one other person in this place, and she’s not someone I want to walk in on a make-out session.
“Good morning, sweetheart!” Vanessa calls to her daughter, biting her lip at me before she heads out to greet her little girl. I turn my attention back to the food, doing my best to keep the cocky grin off my face. Yeah, I know we’re going to pick up on that later—and when we do, it’s going to be all the better for waiting for it.
Vanessa and Callie make their way into the room, Callie in her mother’s arms. Her hair is all over the place, as though she has been tossing and turning all night, but she smiles at me in greeting anyway.
“Killian’s been kind enough to make breakfast for us,” Vanessa tells her, squeezing her hand as she plants her at one of the seats at the breakfast bar.
“Thank you,” Callie chirps to me sweetly, and I can’t help but smile as I dish up the food.
As I distribute it along the bar, and the three of us begin tucking in together, it strikes me how long it’s been since I’ve been in a situation like this one. This kind of normalcy, sitting down with the two of them for food and conversation before we get started on our day…I haven’t experienced it since I was living with our foster parents.
And what’s even crazier to me is the realization that I have missed this. God, I have missed it so much, I don’t know how I made it all that time without it. The sunlight filters through the window behind Callie, lighting up her hair in a halo as she laughs at something Vanessa says, and it’s like my brain takes a snapshot of the image on autopilot.
I haven’t allowed myself to want this. That’s why it feels so different. I haven’t allowed myself to want something as intimate and familial as this, because of how I lost it before. I pushed away the thought of anything other than the least serious encounters with women, and I moved out to the middle of the woods to hide from the rest of the world. I have done everything in my power to keep from opening myself up to this, because the thought of losing it again was more than I could take.
But now I sit here once more, surrounded by it, drenched in it, and I know I can’t let it go. Not a chance in hell. Now that I have it, I know I need it, and I won’t let it slip through my fingers again.
Vanessa glances over at me. She seems to notice that something has shifted in my demeanor, and she gives me a quiet look, her eyebrows rising to silently question my well-being.
I just reach for her hand and nod. “I’m good,” I assure her. “Hey, Callie, how are you enjoying your breakfast?”
“It’s really good,” she replies, spraying a mouthful of eggs over the counter as she speaks.
Vanessa laughs and shakes her head. “Callie, what did I tell you about eating with your mouth full…”
“Hey, I’m the one who asked her a question,” I cut in. “It’s on me, if it’s on anyone.”
“So you’re saying that you’re the one who should get in trouble for this?”
She rounds on me, a fork in one hand, a playful grin spreading over her face.
“Hey, that’s not what I said,” I protest, lifting my hands up. “That wasn’t part of the deal…”
“Oh, I think you should have guessed what you were getting into when you decided to make us breakfast…”
She brandishes the fork at me playfully, and Callie busts out laughing—and before I can think too much more about it, I find myself joining her. There’s something so bright and so happy about hearing that little girl laugh the way she does, and right now there’s nothing I want more than to keep hearing it.
We finish up our breakfast, and Vanessa insists on clearing up as I take Callie outside to get some sunshine. We have a collection of vegetables that need watering in the garden out back, and she gives me a hand with that. She grips my fingers for support when she tilts the bucket to pour the water, her tongue pinched between her teeth as she aims with complete precision.
I can feel eyes on us, and I glance around to see Vanessa looking through the kitchen window toward us. There’s a dish in her hand, but it looks as though she stopped in the middle of cleaning it, distracted by what she sees before her. She lifts her hand and waves, and I wave back before I help Callie move on to the next patch.
The rest of the day is just as easy. Callie is still on edge—to be expected, after everything that happened—but I give her a tour of the office we work from to distract her, showing her how the light-up alarms work as Vanessa holds her hand and picks her up to see the maps.
Once Callie is flicking through one of the giant maps we have stashed in the desk, Vanessa turns to me, a slightly-awestruck expression on her face.
“I had no idea you guys did all of this,” she murmurs, shaking her head. “I mean, you…you must have saved so many lives doing this. Kept so many people from losing everything.”
I nod. “Yeah, that’s the idea.”
“But do you really see how amazing it is?” she insists, taking my hand suddenly. “You doing all of this. You don’t have to. This is all off your own back, just because you know it’s the right thing. There are so few people in the world who can do that, and even less who would actually go through with it. But you’re one of them.”
She smiles at me, and I let the words sink in. I have a hard time wrapping my head around the enormity of everything we’ve done. Sometimes, it seems bigger than I can even make sense of, too big to even think about, or else I’d be overwhelmed by it. But hearing it from her lips feels different—an assurance that she sees the work I do, and she appreciates it.
“Thanks,” I murmur, and I press a kiss against her cheek before Callie turns around again.
Mason and Jake text us from town, and we start on making some dinner for all of us. There has been no question as to whether or not Vanessa and Callie should go home yet; I suppose they will eventually, but for the time being I want them here, where I can see them. I’d be surprised if Jake ever let them out of his sight again, after what happened. I know how protective he is of the people closest to him, and like it or not, she’s among them now.
“Can I help?” Callie asks as I stand over a pasta dish at the stove, Vanessa pouring some juice into glasses beside me.
“Why don’t you make a table decoration?” I suggest, suddenly remembering how much she enjoys that. “I bet the guys would love to see that when they get back.”
Her eyes light up at the thought. “Yes!” she exclaims, and she darts off toward the living room, where I point her in the direction of the firewood for her to craft something from.
As she sets to work, I turn to see Vanessa watching us. She has that look on her face again, and as I head over to her, I tip my head to the side.
“What is it?”
“You’re really good with her,” she replies softly, making sure Callie can’t hear us.
I shrug. “Just doing what anyone would do…”
“No, you’re going way beyond that,” she replies. “Trust me. I…it’s so good to see her around men she’s actually comfortable with, the way she is with the three of you.”
“Wait until she’s tried this pasta,” I joke. “She’s going to like us even more…”
But as I head through to the kitchen, the warmth of those words makes me grin. I like the idea of being part of Callie’s life. Can’t say I ever much saw myself as a dad, but she’s a sweet girl. And besides, she comes in a package deal with Vanessa—if it means that I get to have this beautiful woman at my side, I don’t care what it takes.
She follows me into the kitchen, going back to pouring juice.
“I’m going to miss having someone else to cook for me,” she remarks, and I glance over at her.
“What do you mean?”
“When I go back to the city, that is,” she fills out quickly. “Now that the cartel is dealt with, it’s not as though I’ve got any more reason to be clogging up my friend’s vacation cabin, right?”
She laughs slightly. I try to echo it, but there’s not much that’s funny to me about this. No, if anything, the thought of her going feels abstract—as though she’s talking about a possibility that’s never actually going to come to pass.
“Right,” I mutter back, turning my attention to the food so she won’t see the look on my face. So everything that we talked about last night…it wasn’t a lie, exactly, but she wasn’t in any rush to leave. Or maybe this is what she meant—she wants us to be part of her daughter’s life, but we’ll be here and she’ll be in the city. Though it’s only a few hours drive, it suddenly seems to stretch out on ahead of us forever.
I stare down at the dinner in front of me and silently send up a prayer to anyone who’s listening to make this the first of many, many dinners I cook for them here. Because I am so far from ready to see them go.