Chapter Nineteen #2
She fled to her bedroom. Hand on her chest, she leaned against the door and fanned her hand in front of her face.
“Good lord.” The heat in his gaze had ramped up her internal temperature.
She stared at the bed, the rumpled covers a reminder that the last time she’d been there she hadn’t been alone.
She was tempting fate to be spending more time with Kieran.
Her determination weakened each second he was near.
Everything about him tempted her to toss aside her concerns and live each moment like it was her last.
“You only live once,” she whispered. And she’d spent more time existing than living. Head down, she’d worked hard, taking little time for pleasure. While she loved baking, it had consumed every waking hour to the detriment of all else.
Dumping her purse, she headed for the bathroom, stumbling to a stop.
Had David been in here? What had he touched?
She fisted her hands. Damn the man. Why couldn’t he leave her the hell alone?
She hoped he’d believed her when she’d told him she’d never sell him her recipes.
Surely that, coupled with Cal’s warning, should be enough to convince him to go away?
“Don’t let him ruin things.” This was her home, her bakery, her life.
Screw him. She was going to go on a picnic and have fun, even if it killed her.
An icy cold finger traced down her spine.
Shivering, she spun around, expecting to find someone behind her.
The bedroom was the same as it had always been, but it was as though she was viewing it through the eyes of a stranger.
“Weird.” Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she shook off the mood and began to strip off her sweaty clothes. She had a picnic date, and she didn’t want to keep Kieran waiting.
…
The fresh scent of Georgia’s floral soap teased Kieran to the brink of insanity.
Working with her all day had been bad enough.
Being trapped in the confines of her car with her was worse.
His senses were alive, soaking in every nuance, like the way a single strand of hair curved against her cheek and the almost child-like twinkle in her eyes as they neared their destination.
The smell of her was enough to test a saint, something no one would ever accuse him of being.
His dick was doing its best to punch a hole in his jeans. Uncomfortable, he shifted in the seat, but it was impossible to find a position that didn’t strangle his balls. “Much farther?” It was the adult version of “Are we there yet?”, but he didn’t care.
Freshly showered and vibrant as a daisy in her white capri pants and sunny yellow top, she was all that was light and good in the world.
The complete antithesis of him. She had to be exhausted, but it didn’t show.
She’d been a dynamo, sweeping through the kitchen, making sandwiches and packing a bag with chips and fruit and cookies.
He couldn’t decide how much was genuine excitement and how much was pure bravado.
It hadn’t escaped him that she’d been uncomfortable entering her home.
David had done that to her. That had killed some of his arousal, but not all. That was impossible with her so close.
“Just up ahead.” She turned on the blinker before pulling onto a narrow gravel road. There were a few potholes but none deep enough to stop them. “I haven’t been here in years. I hope it’s as nice as I remember.”
“I’m sure it will be,” he reassured her. He didn’t care where they were as long as he was with her. He craved her company, soaked up her presence, not wanting to miss a single second.
“You say that now.” The road abruptly ended in a spot with barely enough room for her to turn around and park. “I used to come out here on my bike when I was a teenager.”
“Alone?” The question came out more sharply than he’d intended. He didn’t like the idea of some horny teenage boy taking advantage of her.
“Mostly.” Either she hadn’t noticed his gruffness or was choosing to ignore it. “Let’s go.”
After locking up, he hefted the bag containing their picnic in one hand and motioned her forward. “Lead the way.”
He was glad she’d worn sneakers instead of sandals. There was a path, but it was slightly overgrown. At one time this might have been a popular spot, but it hadn’t seen much use recently.
The silence settled over him, the warm breeze caressed his face.
Beneath the canopy of the trees, the temperature dropped, the sun unable to penetrate the thick leaves.
They’d change color as the season progressed.
He’d be gone by then. He gripped the bag tighter, keeping her in his sights.
She moved easily through the underbrush, the path familiar.
A butterfly flitted past his face. Birds sang, and insects buzzed.
It was as though they were the only two people in existence.
If he could freeze time, he’d do it so that they never had to move beyond this moment and Georgia would forever be young and alive. Instead, he followed, as if pulled along by an invisible tether.
“Here we are.”
He stepped into the clearing. In front of him, a stream trickled over the rocks, meandering past them and into the woods beyond. Several large stones created a semicircle near the water’s edge. Tall grasses, turned brown by the long, hot summer, waved back and forth in welcome.
“It’s nicer in summer. The wildflowers are mostly gone, but it’s still pretty.”
“Beautiful.” And he wasn’t talking about the scenery. He’d met the determined businesswoman, the hard-working baker, and the incomparable lover, but this was a glimpse at the woman beneath all that. This was a window into her soul.
Pink tinged her cheeks, and she gave an almost embarrassed laugh. “Not quite sure this is what you’d hoped for, but it’s one of my favorite places.”
And she’d chosen to share it with him. “I’m honored.
” He set the bag on one of the larger stones and rested his hands on her waist. “It’s peaceful.
” There was no intrusion from the outside world.
No work or deadlines, no people or worries.
“Did you come here often?” He was thirsty for every scrap of knowledge about her.
“I did.” Raising her hand to shade her eyes, she stared at the stream. “Home was… Well, it wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great. My parents never really wanted children. I was an unwelcome surprise. My father basically ignored me. My mother made sure I was fed and clothed and went to school.”
His heart ached for her. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “Don’t be. Some have it much worse. I learned to be independent and found something I loved to do.”
And she’d been ripe for a bastard like David, seeking the acceptance she’d never had. “Your parents are in Arizona, you said.”
“Yes, my life in Boston exploded about the same time my father retired. They sold me the house. It worked out well for all of us.” Her stomach growled, making her laugh. “We should eat. You must be starving. Let’s sit here.” She pointed at two flat rocks near the shoreline.
He grabbed the bag and passed it to her after she’d settled.
She handed him one of the wrapped sandwiches and a bottle of water, taking care of his needs before hers.
It had been a very long time since anyone had put him first. He took a couple of bites, giving himself time to tamp down the unease rising inside him.
Staying close to her was part of the assignment. Falling under the spell of her loving spirit wasn’t. There was that word again—love. He shifted position, uncomfortable with the direction of his thoughts. He would not fall into the same trap as his brothers.
He and Georgia weren’t so different. She’d been desperate for love, or what passed for love.
David had preyed on that. Now here he was, desperate for connection, or something to grab hold of, and here she was, the light to his dark.
Only a fool would believe it was real. It was no more than smoke and mirrors and proximity.
The harder he tried to convince himself, the hollower it sounded. But one thing was carved in stone—they could never be together, not permanently. Now was all they had. There was no telling when the end would come, only that it would, and sooner than either of them wanted.
“What are you thinking so hard about?”
He downed half the bottle of water. Wiping his hand over his mouth, he shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”
God, despite everything, she was innocent in so many ways. “Trust me, you’d run screaming if you knew my true thoughts, who I really am.”
She brushed the crumbs from her lap and came to stand before him. Even seated, he was taller than her. “You have secrets that haunt you. From what little I’ve observed, you care for your brothers and they care about you, but there’s some family disagreement.”
“It’s more than a disagreement.” It was life and death. It was eternity.
“I know you’re part owner of several restaurants and live in California, that you love food from every culture. I have no idea what your favorite color is or what types of books you like to read, what movies you enjoy.”
“Blue. My favorite color is blue.” He brushed the backs of his knuckles over her cheeks. “Like your eyes.” The exact shade of her eyes. “And thrillers. I like to read thrillers and watch action movies.”
A smile teased her lips. “Yellow is my favorite color, but I’ve become partial to black.” She threaded her fingers in his hair. “When I have time to read, I favor cookbooks and cozy mysteries that feature bakers or cooks and food. And I like action movies, too.”
“Not romantic comedies.”
She screwed her nose up. “Not really. I like stories where the good guys face adversity and win and the bad guys lose. You’re a good guy, Kier.”
He tried to swallow but couldn’t. “You’re wrong. I’m not good at all.”
“The fact that you think you’re not tells me you are.”
“That makes no sense.”
“You didn’t have to help me at the bakery, but you have.”
“Don’t make me into some kind of wounded hero.
This isn’t a book or a movie. This is real life.
Working at the bakery helps pass the time while I’m in town.
It keeps me close to you, too.” He was deliberately being a bastard.
Having her make him out to be something he wasn’t was killing him.
“You have no idea what I’ll do, the depths I’d go to, in order to protect myself and my family. ”
“Oh, I think I do.”
Caw! The strident noise made them both turn their heads, breaking the intimate moment between them. Malaki swooped down, landing on the rock beside them.
“Goodness, where did he come from? Are you hungry? Do you want some sandwich?”
Seeing her be kind to the damn bird was too much.
This assignment, or test, or whatever the hell it was, served no purpose.
There was no reason for either him or his brothers to have ever set foot in the town of Redemption.
The reward that had been dangled in front of him was unattainable.
He understood that now. His brothers would fight him to the death if he tried to take their women.
And that would be after he watched Georgia die.
Easing her away, he stood. “His name is Malaki.”
Caw!
“I don’t understand. Is he a pet?”
Kieran laughed without an ounce of humor.
“He’s no pet. He’s my father’s messenger.
” Millennia of anger erupted, and this time, there was no stopping it.
“Do you want to know who my father is?” He needed to stop before he said too much.
He’d already been given a second chance.
He wouldn’t be granted a third. But like a runaway train, there was no stopping.
And what did it matter? In the end, he’d lose.
They’d all lose—him, Georgia, his brothers and the women they loved.
The only winner would be his father. Georgia deserved the truth, even if it made her fear him, run from him.
She deserved to know who the man she’d welcomed into her life and her bed really was.
And maybe then she’d finally stop believing he was one of the good guys. There was nothing remotely good about him. He was going to stand by and watch her die. There was nothing he could do to change her fate. Nothing any of them could do.
His chest constricted, the power within him pulsing against the barrier his father had erected to keep it muted.
Every muscle in his body strained. He wanted to throw back his head and roar his fury to the gods, to curse his father for putting him in this situation, for breaking his soul wide open.
When Georgia died, that would be the end of Kieran.
Clouds barreled across the sky, blotting out the sun. The wind whipped up, tearing at the branches. She glanced nervously around. “We should go.”
“My father is Death. I’m one of his reapers. I was sent here on an assignment. You’re going to die, Georgia Baker, and there’s not a damn thing either of us can do to stop it.”