Chapter Seventeen
Georgia’s head spun as Kieran’s tongue plunged into her mouth and his arms banded around her waist. As if in the distance, she heard the door close, but it was muted by the pounding of her pulse in her ears.
All her lectures about being sensible and keeping her distance vanished beneath the onslaught of desperate desire. His hands smoothed up and down her back, as though he was assuring himself she was okay. Her hands crept up to clutch the front of his shirt.
He pulled back, breathing heavily, his black eyes accusing. “You left without telling me.”
Dizzy from the potent kiss, she sucked in a calming breath.
She would not feel guilty. She wouldn’t.
“We’re not a couple. You’re not my boyfriend or my husband.
” Her heart constricted at the blunt reality.
“We’re two single adults who’ve gone to bed a few times.
You have your life and responsibilities, and I have mine.
We’ve spent time together, but we don’t share a life.
” It hurt her to say it aloud, but there was no avoiding the harsh truth.
“I don’t owe you any explanations. How did you put it on the ride home from the hospital?
It’s nothing for you to be concerned about. ”
His jaw was clenched so tight it had to hurt. “If that’s what you want.”
“Don’t turn this back on me. You’re the one who made your position clear from the start.
I’m following your lead.” She was done having her emotions kicked around.
She didn’t believe Kieran was doing it to manipulate her, unlike her ex, but that didn’t change the end result.
“I’m a big girl. I’ve been looking after myself a long time.
” She waved her hand at the racks of cooling baked goods and the work counter lined with ingredients. “I’m doing what I need to do.”
Then a thought occurred to her. “How did you know I wasn’t home?” His mouth thinned, and fine lines appeared between his eyebrows. “Kieran?”
“I don’t want to upset you.”
“Too late for that.” She grabbed his forearm. The muscles beneath her hand flexed, becoming hard as rock.
“I couldn’t sleep. I was looking out the window, and I saw a small light moving from room to room inside your house.”
“You what?” Tired from lack of sleep and still aroused from his mind-blowing kiss, she struggled to make sense of what he’d said.
“Someone was inside your house.”
“I need to sit down.” Legs weak, she gripped the edge of the stainless island and sank down on one of the stools. “Someone broke into the house.” On top of everything else, it was a violation. “Any other night, I’d have been home,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“What did they take? Did they damage anything? Did you call the police?” Her mind was spinning, her stomach nauseous.
He shook his head. “They didn’t take anything that I could see, and they didn’t destroy anything. And no, when I realized you weren’t home, I didn’t call the police. I waited to see who it was.”
She pressed her hand against her stomach. “Did you get a good look at them?”
“Yes.” His eyes were grim.
“Did you recognize them?” She couldn’t imagine anyone she knew doing such a thing.
“It was David.”
Like a rocket, she blasted up off the stool with hands clenched.
“That smarmy son of a bitch. I’ll kill him.
” It was bad enough that he’d made it impossible for her to stay in Boston; now he’d invaded her home.
She was halfway to the door when a strong arm wrapped around her from behind, halting her progress.
“You need to settle down and think this through.”
His calmness ratcheted up her temper. “Don’t tell me to settle down. It wasn’t your home that was violated, your belongings that were searched.” She tried to shove his arm away, but it was like an iron bar. “Let go of me, damn it.”
“The question you need to ask,” he continued in a calm, even voice that was inciting her to violence, “is what was he looking for?”
“That’s what I plan to find out.” She rammed her elbow back as hard as she could and winced. It was like hitting a brick wall. Damn, that hurt. He flinched but didn’t release her.
“Feisty.” He sounded more amused than upset.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” she muttered. Without warning, she stomped on his foot, but her sneaker did little damage, his heavier boot protecting him. Undaunted, she began to struggle.
“Stop it, Georgia.” She almost slipped away, but he managed to restrain her.
“You have no right to hold me back, no right to touch me, no right to have any say about anything in my life.” Her voice rose with each word.
Her entire life, she’d shied away from conflict and avoided drama.
She was even-tempered, seeking a solution when a problem arose rather than placing blame.
Years of swallowing back pain and bitter disappointment, of being let down time and again, of having to pick up the pieces of her life after having it shattered, boiled over.
She screamed, the fury erupting from the depths of her soul.
Both arms were around her now, holding her captive. He rocked her from side to side. “I’m so damn sorry.”
She felt his lips press against the top of her head and almost relented. Almost. “Being sorry doesn’t change anything.”
“I know.” His quiet acceptance of her anger doused some of the flames, leaving her tired and upset.
“I have to contact the police.”
“He’ll deny it.”
“But you saw him,” she pointed out. He remained silent. “Kieran?”
Giving a sigh, he turned her in his arms, so she was facing him. “I want to avoid getting involved, if possible, and I don’t think you need the problems accusing him would bring.”
“Surely you’re not suggesting I do nothing and let him get away with it? I let his infidelity go. I allowed him to push me out of a job I loved. But this is going too far. He broke the law.”
“Why would he risk his reputation and possibly even jail? What’s that important?”
That made her stop and think. Much as it pained her to admit it, Kieran was right to keep her from going off half-cocked.
Storming over to Ivy House where David was staying and banging on the front door demanding to see him would play right into his hands.
Calling the cops would be no better. Charismatic, he was used to using his good looks and smooth manner to his advantage.
Before the day was out, he’d have half the town convinced she was nothing more than a vindictive ex and he just an innocent victim. He’d done as much back in Boston.
In a small town, reputation mattered. Her bakery didn’t have enough traction to withstand an onslaught against her character, not on top of the events of the past few days.
While most people in her hometown would support her, there were more than enough malicious folks who thrived on gossip to make life difficult.
She’d be able to ride out the storm, but it wouldn’t be pleasant.
“Georgia?”
“I’m thinking.”
His big hand moved up and down her back in a soothing motion.
“If you didn’t want to get involved, why did you tell me? For that matter, why are you here?” The oven timer went off, a sharp reminder that she’d been in the middle of baking when he’d shown up. “I’ve got to get that.”
His arms dropped down by his sides. Stepping around him, she grabbed oven mitts and removed pans of blueberry and peach streusel muffins, setting them on a rack to cool.
“I have to make cupcakes.” So much was out of her control, but this was something productive she could do. It would allow her to think.
“You should go home.”
She removed the oven mitts and slapped them down on the end of the counter.
“And do what? If I’m not going to call the police, what’s the point?
I’m opening in…” She looked up at the clock.
It was almost two in the morning. “About five hours. I don’t have time to waste.
” Putting actions to her words, she began making the batter for a carrot-cake cupcake.
After that, she planned on making red velvet and vanilla.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t eventually contact the police, but as you pointed out, you haven’t been home. I’ll bet David will find his way here tomorrow. Whatever you have that he wants, he’s not going to give up. Depending on what he says and does, you can decide what you want to do.”
When he laid it out like that, it made sense. “You’re right. I’ll wait.”
The tension in Kieran’s shoulders eased, but he still seemed wound tighter than an old-fashioned wind-up clock. She poured premeasured flour into a bowl and reached for the sugar. “But I already know what he wants.”
A dark scowl on his face, Kieran rested a hand on either side of her, pinning her against the edge of the work island with his large frame. Heat and waves of frustration rolled off him. “You already know?”
“Yup.” It was the only thing that made sense.
He bent forward. She could either lean back or kiss him. Tempted as she was to give in, she leaned away. “What does he want?”
For the first time in hours, she smiled. “My white chocolate fudge brownie recipe.”
…
Outwardly genial and composed, Kieran thanked the customer in front of him. Inwardly, he was still reeling from Georgia’s confession from hours ago. All this was over a recipe? Sadly, people had gone to jail for less. It made as much sense as anything, but a brownie recipe?
It had almost killed him to release her so she could go back to work instead of kissing her delectable lips, but he’d done it.
A glutton for punishment, he’d rolled up his sleeves and dug in to help, working alongside her.
The years he’d spent perfecting recipes and working in professional kitchens were a huge benefit.
Under her guidance, he measured ingredients, scooped dough onto trays, and piped icing, leaving her free to handle the more intricate recipes and finer details.