Chapter Eleven
It was beautiful out, and KC felt more relaxed than he had in a long time. With each passing day, he was more convinced that the reason was the woman standing before him.
Positioning himself behind Maura, he slid his right arm around her neck and his left around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. Her ponytail brushed just beneath his chin, and the faint floral scent of her shampoo wrapped around him.
He didn’t know what it was, but every time she was close, it got under his skin, settling low and warm, making it harder to think straight.
She fit against him in a way that felt… right. Too right.
For a moment, he let himself feel it—the softness of her, the heat of her body against his, and the way she stilled for half a heartbeat before her muscles tightened with awareness.
His grip remained controlled, exactly as he’d shown her, but his mind drifted somewhere it shouldn’t.
To what it might be like to keep her there.
To lower his head, brush his mouth along her neck, see how she’d react.
Would she lean into it… or pull away?
The thought tightened something in his chest.
He didn’t know how deep the damage from her ex ran. Didn’t know what lines hadn’t healed yet. He only knew that pushing too far, too soon would cost him whatever fragile trust she’d started to give him.
He forced himself back to the moment.
They were still standing there, facing the ocean, his arms locked in place. Training. That’s what this was supposed to be.
But his pulse kicked harder than it should, and he was suddenly very aware of every point where their bodies touched.
“Uh, Maura?” His voice came out rougher than he intended.
“Yes?”
There it was again—that shift in her tone. Not fear. Not resistance. Something else.
He cleared his throat. “Are you waiting for something, or is there another reason we’re just standing here?”
“I, um… was waiting for you to tell me to start fighting you.”
A grin tugged at his mouth. “Do you think an attacker is going to give you permission?”
“Well, when you put it that way—”
She never finished—just exploded into motion. Her elbow drove back, her heel came down hard on his foot, and she snapped her head toward his face. He barely turned in time, her skull grazing his jaw instead of his nose.
“Jesus—” He caught himself, teeth clamping down as he shifted his weight, trying to keep control without shutting her down. She used everything he’d shown her—hands, elbows, hips—fast, instinctive, and relentless.
He stepped back to avoid a sharp strike and caught his heel on something solid. Driftwood.
Losing his balance, he went down hard, pulling her with him. Instinct took over as he twisted, keeping her from taking the brunt of the fall. He landed on his back in the sand with a thud, the impact knocking the air from his lungs as she came down on top of him.
Seconds ticked by, but neither of them moved.
He dragged in a slow, unsteady breath, fighting to get his lungs working again.
She shifted over him but didn’t pull away, her weight still pressed to his chest. He felt her hesitate, her hands brushing over him, unsure.
“Oh, my God, KC! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
A strangled sound, somewhere between a laugh and a groan, escaped him. “Only my ego. Listen… do me a favor, will you? Do not—under any circumstances—do not tell my team or my family I was taken down by a woman who’s barely half my size, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
He forced his eyes open to find her face hovering inches above his.
She smiled, but concern still lingered in her eyes. His gaze dropped to her mouth—soft, pink, and just within reach—and he drew in a sharp breath. Her body stilled.
His focus flicked briefly to her eyes, then back to her lips as her tongue slid out to dampen them.
He lifted his head slightly, giving her time to pull away.
She didn’t.
His hand came up, cupping her cheek, guiding her down the last inch.
Then his mouth was on hers.
The contact hit harder than the fall. For a heartbeat, she stayed tense above him—then softened, melting against him as if something inside her had finally given way.
He kissed her like he’d been holding back for too long, a low sound rumbling in his chest when her lips parted and welcomed him in.
Moving one hand to the back of her head to hold her in place, he skimmed the other down her neck to her back and lower, spanning her waist and drawing her closer. Maura shifted against him, the movement subtle but deliberate, and his body reacted instantly.
Too fast. Too strong.
He should stop. He knew it. It was the middle of the morning, and anyone could come walking down that stretch of beach at any second.
But he couldn’t. Not after craving this for days.
The kiss took on a life of its own, deepening, turning urgent. She met him without hesitation, matching every movement, every shift. Her taste hit him—warm and a little addictive—and it went straight to his head.
He rolled, taking her with him until she lay beneath him in the sand.
Her hands moved over him, slipping beneath his shirt, and her touch sent a sharp jolt through him, lighting him up before he could shut it down. His control was hanging by a thread, every instinct pushing him closer to the edge.
He lowered his head, dragging his mouth along hers, slower now but no less intense, as if he could memorize the feel of her if he just took his time.
A dog’s incessant bark cut through the haze.
KC stilled, the sound pulling him back to reality. He held there a beat before finally lifted his head, breathing hard.
Her eyes were wide, dark with something that matched exactly what he felt. Her lips were red and puffy, her ponytail half-fallen loose around her shoulders.
He’d never seen a woman as beautiful as she looked right then.
The bark came again.
Both their heads turned. Down the beach, a family of four and an overly enthusiastic Collie were heading straight in their direction.
Yeah. That was a cold splash of reality—but probably for the best. They’d gotten carried away.
KC rolled to his side, putting his back toward the approaching group, then stared at Maura. She was still catching her breath, and her expression said she wasn’t ready for it to end any more than he was.
He dragged a hand down his face, then glanced at the very obvious problem in his sweatpants before meeting her gaze again, a crooked grin pulling at his mouth.
“I think I’d better take a quick swim,” he said. “Otherwise, I’m going to look pretty ridiculous walking around like this.”
Color rushed into her cheeks. “I… yeah. That’s probably a good idea.”
He caught her hand, brought it to his mouth, and briefly kissed her palm before letting go.
Then he was on his feet, making a mad dash for the water.
He barely slowed long enough to kick off his sneakers before diving straight into the surf, the cold hitting him hard enough to knock some sense back into his system.
It helped.
But not enough.
On the way home from Big Al’s that afternoon, they stopped in town to invite Dan Malone to dinner.
While KC headed toward the hardware store, Moriah veered off to the small boutique a few doors down.
At the shooting range, she’d realized all her clothes were sweats, jeans, T-shirts, and sneakers—fine for surviving, not exactly something she’d wear out to dinner.
They were the wardrobe of a woman on the run.
But with KC’s help, she felt stronger. Safer. More like herself with each passing day.
There was no way anyone could trace her to this small town—one most people in Chicago had probably never even heard of. Maybe she could stay in Whisper for a while. Find work that paid cash. It would be too risky to use her real name or her Social Security number.
Which meant finishing her degree was out of reach for now.
Pushing that thought aside, she stepped into Petals Boutique and let her gaze drift over the racks. Something dressy. Something fun. Nothing too expensive. Her duffel bag held more cash than she was comfortable carrying, but she couldn’t afford to burn through it on frivolous things.
Still… this felt like something she did need.
Even if they weren’t technically going out on a date, she wanted something that would make KC look twice. Something that might hold his attention.
Neither of them had mentioned the kiss on the beach, but it lingered between them all the same. She’d been hyperaware of him throughout the remainder of the day—every glance, and brush of contact, whether accidental or not. Each one sent a quiet spark through her, catching her off guard.
Then there were the little looks they kept exchanging. It was as if she were back in high school, trying to work up the nerve to talk to a cute boy.
She always considered herself a poor flirt, but her body had a mind of its own when it came to KC, automatically moving in a mating dance she had never known the steps to. She wanted to stoke the fire they’d ignited on the beach and prayed he wanted that too.
She was lost in her thoughts when a striking older woman emerged from the back of the store. Late fifties, maybe, with bright eyes and flawless skin that made Moriah do a double-take.
“Hi there. I’m Bonnie Whitman. Can I help you with anything?”
Moriah smiled and gave a small wave. “Hello. I’m looking for something to wear on a date tonight, but it’s not really a date.”
Bonnie laughed. “How is a date not really a date?”
“Well, his uncle is coming with us.”
“Ah, and three is definitely a crowd.” Her eyes sparkled, and Moriah found herself liking the woman immediately. “Well, then, let’s see what we can find for you. You’re what? A size eight?”
She blinked, caught off guard. “Yes… How did you know?”
“Honey, I’ve owned this shop for twenty-two years. I can guess most women’s sizes just like that.” She snapped her fingers, then guided her toward the center of the store.
“This area over here is more for your age. I don’t cater to the teenagers, but I carry various styles for the twenty- and thirty-something crowd, although most of my clientele is a little older.
” She quickly pulled three dresses from the rack and handed them over.
“Why don’t you start trying these on? If you don’t like any of them, we have plenty more.
The dressing rooms are in the back and to the right. ”
Moriah nodded and headed that way, slipping into the first stall. She reached for the zipper when Bonnie’s voice carried through the curtain.
“I take it you are Ms. Maura Jennings.”
She froze, stunned. Her pulse jumped as she pushed the curtain aside enough to look out, working to keep her tone polite. “How did you know that?”
“Dan Malone and I go way back.” Bonnie waved a hand as if to brush off any concern.
“He married my best friend a long time ago. After Annie passed away, we remained close. I know pretty much everyone in Whisper, and Dan mentioned he had an attractive young woman renting the beach house, so I assumed it was you when you walked in. I won’t see the tourist crowd midweek for another few weeks. ”
Relief loosened something in Moriah’s chest. She stepped back into the small booth and pulled the curtain closed. As she undressed, she raised her voice just enough for Bonnie to hear.
“I guess that’s Annie in all those pictures at the beach house. I wondered who she was and why there were only photos of her as a young woman.”
Pulling the dress over her head, Moriah paused, the fabric settling around her. A quiet ache settled in her chest as she thought of her own family—lost long before they should have been. “She was so young. That’s heartbreaking.”
“That it was. Dan never remarried, even after all this time.”
Moriah smoothed the dress down and stepped out of the dressing room. The navy sundress fit perfectly, with a short bolero jacket resting open over the sweetheart neckline.
“Oh, honey,” Bonnie exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “That dress was made for you. It fits you to a T and brings out your gorgeous baby blues. KC will be knocked off his feet when he sees you.”
Heat rushed into Moriah’s cheeks. She didn’t bother asking how Bonnie knew she was attracted to the oldest Malone brother. The woman clearly missed very little.
After adding a pair of sandals and a small purse to complete the outfit, Moriah paid and thanked Bonnie, then carried her bags out to the car, where KC was waiting.
He stepped forward and opened the passenger door. “All set?”
“I think so,” she said, smiling as she slid onto the leather seat and reached back to set the bags behind her.
“Great. My uncle said he’ll meet us at Sassy’s at seven, which gives us plenty of time to shower and change.”
He closed the door, and she watched him round the front of the car. The easy strength in his stride drew her gaze—his long legs, lean hips, and the confident way he moved.
Warmth curled low in her stomach.
She looked away before he could catch her staring, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Tonight suddenly held a little more promise than she’d expected.