Chapter 11 Take Me Home （Margot） #2
But Sophie’s shoes are the high-support, clunky ones.
Absolute beasts aesthetically.
So, I’ve taken the design and downloaded it as a base image with a little AI-assisted modeling. I’ve just started working on something that should have the same support but might look prettier.
Functional, yes, but feminine.
A stab at a statement piece.
Not something bland that will blend in, but not an outlier that draws mean jokes from immature kids.
It’s not easy.
These shoes don’t go hand in hand with pretty. Not in the delicate, flowery sort of way that’s stylish. Not with bold, worldly I-don’t-care confidence, either.
My phone lights up with Hattie’s reply, and I stop working to check her message.
Hattie: I’m glad you filed a police report! So scary.
Hattie: Also the stuff with your neighbors is insane.
Hattie: But have you kissed him again? Gotta look on the bright side.
I chew my bottom lip as I stare at the screen. She’s still typing.
Hattie: Sooo I *might* have looked him up. Because what else do I have to do with my time when I’m not shelving books? Verdict: GORGEOUS. Seriously, if you don’t hook up with him, I will try.
Margot: Hattie! Remember you’re literally married to my brother.
Hattie: Kidding! But fr it’s your moral obligation to hook up with him before some other baddie does.
Hattie: But how are things with you guys? Awkward or chill?
I think back over the day.
Yesterday, I was convinced I’d never be able to look him in the eye again.
It turns out being terrified for your life puts things in perspective. When I ran back into the kitchen that night, I wasn’t thinking about the kiss apocalypse much.
Or every wicked thing it means.
Like how his little boy found out and his little girl wants us to date.
Ugh.
I still haven’t told him that part.
It might look like I’m asking for a date, but no, that’s just my annoying subconscious.
I am self-aware.
And I’m not going to get emotionally tied up with anyone right now.
No more hookups.
No more drama.
Done.
If I have to bring in an army of battery-operated boyfriends to tide me over, hey, whatever.
A cool night breeze drifts in through the window. I inhale it slowly.
A little fresh air always helps me think.
I love the pine-scented coolness here so much I’m not worried about bringing a chill into the room. Hattie, who’s all cozy blankets, thinks I’m weird.
Not that awkward, I type back. We had a nice day in town with the kids. Had some lobster, ate ice cream, rode some horses. Nothing crazy.
Hattie: Yet. Just wait until you ride him.
I drop my phone, press my face into my hands, and groan.
She’s so bad.
Before I can tell her this is real life and not another spicy book, a noise catches my attention from the open window.
My heart ticks in my throat.
The low hum of a motor.
A splashing sound?
I stick my head out and look down, scanning the lawn until—
My breath catches when I see him.
Kane.
Huge and godlike, bathed in the low light around the old hot tub.
He just can’t sit still. He must’ve fixed the pump and gotten the whole thing working.
His arms are up, resting along the back of the tub.
His eyes are half-closed as he slouches like a tiger, obscenely content.
I’ve never seen him like this.
And really, I shouldn’t even be watching.
If Hattie saw me now, she’d call me a creep.
And she’d be right.
Normal people don’t stare like this, ogling dangerously sexy, older men.
Especially older men they’ve kissed.
Older men they swore they would never kiss again.
I know it’s time.
I should just shut the curtains and get back to my designs. Or texting Hattie. Or hell, maybe a cold shower before I face-plant into bed.
But I don’t move.
That would be too sensible, and I know he’s all alone out there under the stars. Maybe the kids fell asleep early.
I know from experience the warm water feels divine against the cool night.
My brain spins like a hamster training for a marathon on its little wheel.
…there’s no harm in seeing if he wants some company, right?
Yes, I’m aware I’m only deceiving myself—it’s not him needing company, it’s me—but I get changed anyway, tying my hair up in a loose knot and finding the bathing suit I always pack on trips out of habit.
My bare feet are quiet as I slip through the house.
The kids must’ve passed out. I think I can hear Dan snoring on the couch, the TV still flickering as a movie plays.
Kane doesn’t glance up as I slide the side door open and step outside. This close, he’s so handsome it hurts.
It flipping sears my eyes to look at a man cut straight from the sky.
When he’s shirtless, you can tell he used to play hockey. His muscles scream power, loudly and proudly with every ripple.
All sinew.
All solid man.
All big hands made for enticing punishments and whisper-soft caresses.
My brain sucks for getting me into trouble.
I can’t help it when my breath catches a little too sharply.
He finally glances up, his eyes shadowy and unreadable. But I can hear the amusement in his voice when he realizes I’m here.
“Margot? What’s wrong?”
I undo my robe and let it fall off my shoulders.
His gaze flicks down my body, ravenous, devouring me inch by inch.
I might just self-combust before I reach the hot tub.
The bathing suit I chose is red, a little alluring and a lot daring. It’s a one piece, but only the tiniest swathe of material connects the two parts.
The cool night makes me shiver, contrasting with the burn under my skin.
“Nothing’s wrong, Kane. I just thought maybe you wouldn’t mind some company to try out the hot tub,” I say, stepping closer.
He nods slowly and gives me some room to get in.
The bubbling water feels glorious against the cold air.
I almost groan with delight. Thankfully, I’m not that far gone.
Not yet.
“I don’t mind,” he confirms, clearing his throat. “Got it working this evening and figured I’d try it out. The kids went down fast after dinner. Barely made it through the opening credits, and I figured I’d let them sleep after the ride through town.”
“Mmm, good idea.” I rest my head on the lip of the tub. “I haven’t been in one of these for a while. Usually, I just do pools and jacuzzis in Arizona or Mexico.”
“Water hits different in Maine. You ever use this one much?”
“Yeah, when we were kids.” I look at him slowly, taking him in. He’s watching me with that intensity he often has, like he’s never thought about staring at anything else. “Although I never used to appreciate it then. It was too small to swim much as a kid.”
“But you do now?”
“Not sharing the tub with a brother who wants to dunk you until you’re panicking definitely helps.”
He chuckles, then we go silent.
The jets stream against my lower back, comfortingly fizzy.
Why wasn’t getting this fixed my first priority?
“How are you feeling?” he asks after a long moment.
I shrug.
Today was a long day, and this helps more than I ever dreamed.
“I finally called my mom. Predictably, she doesn’t think Gramps left anything valuable here.”
“No? What about sentimental?”
“She doesn’t think anything has value if some expert can’t put a price on it.
” I dip my fingers into the water, twirling them idly.
“I’m not sure Elvira Blackthorn ever had a sentimental thought in her life.
I get it, though. Gramps hurt her bad when she was young.
He caused a lot of trouble in our family, putting the Blackthorn name on a pedestal, but…
” I stop and sigh. “I dunno. It’s just a lot.
And then there’s the prowler stuff and the police report. ”
“Don’t worry too much about that. After I’ve cleared my head in here, I’ll pull the night shift.”
“You mean you won’t sleep? Oh, wow, is that necessary?”
“Only until we have a basic security system put in. Thought I’d order one and have it sent overnight,” he says.
“No, you’ve done enough. There are a couple local places I can call. I’ll work on it tomorrow,” I promise.
Part of me wants to argue he shouldn’t play watchman, but a man built like a human tank looking out for us feels like a relief.
If someone did try to break in, they’d stop cold and think twice after seeing him.
That is, assuming they weren’t armed…
But he’s a war machine. Intimidating height and muscles and touch-us-and-die attitude.
No one with a shred of survival instinct will mess with this house with Kane Saint around.
“Do you really think they’ll come back?” I ask softly. “If it was the Babins, would they be that stupid?”
“Probably not tonight. They’d be dumb as hell to follow up this soon, without thinking it through,” he says, propping his arms up on the rim. The space under them looks too inviting. “They know you saw them, and news travels fast in this town. They’ll know we alerted the cops soon.”
“Well, not like it’ll do much. I think the sheriff hands out ten speeding tickets per year.”
“It’s on file, Margot. That counts. The better the record, the more we’ll have if anything goes down and you need to press charges. Not that it will,” he adds, searching my face.
“Hopefully.”
After a second, he cocks his head.
Protective growly instinct or not, he knows he doesn’t need to sweeten the truth with me, unlike his kids. I’m not family.
“Hopefully,” he repeats.
I don’t remember us getting closer, but my knee knocks lightly against his under the water.
I try to relax and sink down lower, letting the bubbles climb past my breasts to my neck, and his eyes follow the movement.
“It’s a damn shame your mom was no help,” he says. “Sorry you wasted your time.”
“Yeah, it’s frustrating. Not really a big surprise, though. I just want to know what he thought was so important and why he wanted me to find it. It feels like my last connection to him fading, going up in smoke.”
His knee brushes mine now, but this time the movement feels deliberate.
Just a split-second press that might be for sympathy or comfort, but it ignites my nerves all the same.