Chapter 3 Close Enough To Burn #2
Lana now realized Paula wasn’t lying about the family emergency when she called her, but why would she invite her up knowing he would be there?
“I'm not leaving, and seeing as I’m here now, you’re free to go if you want…Good Samaritan,” Kayden replied.
Lana glared at him the way she did at Aunt Mae’s, and he smiled that half-crooked smile again.
Holy crap, it is really like kryptonite!
Immediately, she found herself focused on his jet black hair and sea-colored eyes, as they twinkled in the dim light from the fireplace.
The light’s shadows detailed every muscle on his body.
Well cut and defined, you could tell he spent a lot of time in the gym.
She realized she was staring again and forced herself to look away. She stuck her hands in her pockets to conceal her fists and realized she was still wearing his jacket. Lana removed it as fast as she could and threw it at him. It hurled past his head and landed behind the couch on the floor.
“I’m on vacation! I drove here for fourteen hours, and I, Mr. Capshaw, am not going anywhere!”
“Not a problem, roomie,” he replied, as he removed the throw pillow and stood up.
Oh wow. She turned away to stop the uninvited thoughts that kept running through her mind, then suddenly spun around on her heels.
“Wait a minute! Aren’t you supposed to be in jail right now? How are you even here?”
“Please. The bail was two hundred bucks, I paid it and left,” he replied, walking in her direction towards the decanter of brown liquid on the side table.
The light danced on his exposed skin, making every curve and crevice more detailed than before.
How is it possible for someone to look like this and be real?
“So they didn’t do a breathalyzer on you?” she asked in disbelief, forcing her mind to focus on the issue at hand.
“Oh, you mean because you gave the cop my flask? No.”
“So let me get this straight. It took me longer to report what you did than it took for you to be arrested, get booked, make bail, and get here before me so that you can lounge around in your underwear?” She was livid. Who was he?
He walked slowly towards her, and she could see his eyes were moving from her mouth to her chest, and it pissed her off even more. Who in the hell does he think he is?
“Do you even care that you almost killed Rachel tonight? Or the fact that you ran me off the road about twelve hours ago? I could’ve died!”
She took a step towards him now, her fists balled as tight as she could get them, her nails digging into her palms so hard she couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. The spell he was casting was broken.
“I do care,” he said, putting his drink down on the table, “believe me, I’m going to make it up to her. To you both, I promise.”
“So what, is that supposed to mean something,” she started, “because I only know you to leave a woman stranded after you make a promise.”
She searched his face for any remorse, but mostly just wanted to punch him in it, no matter how perfect it was.
If there was one thing she hated, it was people believing they were entitled because of their money, and right now, he was at the top of that shit list. He took another step towards her, and the smile left his face, replaced by intense concern.
Whatever cologne he wore had taken over her senses because the combination of it, the fireplace, and his eyes started making her dizzy. Lana took a step back, then another.
“You spoiled rich kids get away with everything, don’t you?”
It came out as a whisper and didn’t have the impact she intended.
His eyes narrowed as he looked into her eyes, and they spoke volumes without him having to say a single word.
She knew she had now offended him. Good —he could use being taken down a peg or two.
She backed away from him and walked into the kitchen, needing to get out of his personal space to think clearly.
She forced herself to think of anything other than the surreal man standing in nothing behind her.
As angry as she was and as much as she hated him, the attraction was overwhelming, and she forced herself to concentrate on the kitchen to catch her breath.
The kitchen had the typical finishes—granite countertops, hardwood floors, and industrial-grade kitchen appliances.
They always made her feel out of place when she used them, so she never did.
The most she ever touched was the coffee machine or the microwave.
The house never felt lived in, either—too perfect, like it was a model home on a construction site.
Then quietly and softly he spoke, breaking through her thoughts.
It was so quiet in the house, save for the crackling fireplace, that it was as if he was whispering directly in her ear.
That was how quiet the house was in general and her reason for wanting to come, but ever since she’d met Kayden, everything was already too loud—her thoughts and her emotions. She turned and faced him as he spoke.
“I’m truly sorry about the turnpike, gorgeous. I really was in a hurry, trying to catch Paula. I wrote down your license plate and had every intention of contacting you, but I’m sorry for leaving you the way I did.”
He looked sincere, and she softened a little at his words.
“It's not like you actually almost died,” he said slowly and carefully, making air quotes at the word “died.”
Her blood pressure instantly rose again.
“Go to hell! But before you do, please be sure to check yourself into a hotel by morning.”
She was going to talk to Paula tomorrow for sure.
Lana stomped into the kitchen, opened the fridge, threw her dinner in, even though she was still starving, then headed up the staircase.
Her purse dragged behind her, slapping each stair as she ascended.
Kayden couldn’t help but enjoy her reaction; she was all fire all the time.
A smile spread across his face as his eyes landed on her firm rear before she disappeared up the stairs.
After the door slammed upstairs, he sat back down on the couch and took another sip of his drink.
He liked her—a lot. She was bold, hot-headed, and so damned beautiful at the same time.
Very unlike anyone he had ever met before, but he had bigger things to worry about.
He had to see to Rachel and prepare for the wrath of his mother, Maureen Capshaw.
Lana didn’t know him well enough to know that he was being sincere.
He was actually disappointed in himself about what happened, more than she would ever know, which was the reason for his drinking.
He took the last sip from the glass and rested it back down on the coffee table.
Kayden leaned back on the couch and watched the fires dance before him until they died out, and he fell asleep.