Hot Talker – by Rhian Cahill #5
She’s right. Kallan is good looking. Gorgeous. And for some reason he wants to have lunch with me. High school dropout, minimum wage earning, struggling to take care of myself, Haven Wilton.
It’s mind boggling.
But I’m not about to argue. If Kallan wants to hang out with me, I’m okay with that. More than okay. At this point he’s my only friend. I can’t count Mrs. C or my neighbor, Mr. Harkin, even though they’re the people I speak to most.
“Why don’t you take an early lunch?” Mrs. C scans the main area of the library. “We aren’t busy, and you always work late without putting in overtime.”
I ignore the slightly accusing look and offer a smile. “Are you trying to matchmake?”
“Of course. If I can’t take advantage of a fine looking young man, someone should.”
“He already asked me to lunch.”
“I know, I overheard. Go on, take an early, long lunch. See you back here at one.”
“But—”
“And on your way back, stop at the café down the street and get me one of those vanilla chia things I like.”
“I can get it now.”
“No, I want it with my lunch. The lunch I’ll have when you get back from having yours.”
I glance at the clock on the wall. Ten-fifteen. I have over two hours to spend with Kallan.
“Go. Get your bag or whatever you need, then find that man.”
I don’t need encouragement, or my bag. It’s not like I have a phone. “Thanks,” I say as I skirt around the loan counter and head in the direction Kallan went.
It takes me a minute, but I finally locate him sitting on the floor at the end of a row, back against the wall, deeply engrossed in a book.
I grin.
Judging by the cover of a bare-chested man clutching a well-endowed woman to him, Kallan has chosen one of our racier titles.
“Good book?” I ask softly.
“Hmm…” He nods.
I stop in front of him, my smile growing as the seconds tick by.
“Wow.” He snaps the book shut. “That was…”
“Yeah. I’ve read that one.” My face feels hot and I’m not going to acknowledge the heat swirling in my belly. “I’m ready to go to lunch whenever you are.”
“Oh.” He climbs to his feet, his gaze on the book still in his hand. “I wasn’t reading that long, was I?”
“No. I got an early mark.” I cringe at how childish I sound. “I have to pick up a drink for my boss on the way back, so she said I could leave early.”
“Nice. What time do we have to be back?”
“One. And we need to factor in a stop at the café down the street for her drink.”
“Wait. Down the street?”
Nodding, I say, “Yes. Café Cake.”
“That’s where we’re going!” He carefully replaces the book on the shelf then reaches for my hand. “A teammate said they have the best baked goods in the area.”
“They do. Their drinks are good, too. Actually, everything is good there.” I let him lead me out of the library. “We’re early enough that they shouldn’t have sold out of anything yet.”
“They sell out?”
“Yeah. Most days by one or two the only thing you can get is a drink.”
“No food?”
“No. It’s made fresh every morning and once it’s gone, it’s gone.”
“Huh. Smart way to get people to come back the next day.”
“Or get everyone in early so they can shut on time.”
“I suppose. Any recommendations for lunch?” Pulling the door to the street open, he urges me through it first. “I’m told their gumbo is good.”
“Best in the city I’m told.”
“Well, let’s try that then.”
Once we’re on the sidewalk, Kallan grabs my hand again and weaves our fingers together. He held my hand last night, but I thought that was because it was a… “Is this another date?”
“Of course.” He glances down at me. “Do you not want it to be?”
“Yes! I do. I just wondered…” Lord, I sound like an idiot.
“Okay, date number two.” His grin is infectious and I’m smiling back, our clasped hands swaying between us as we walk down the block.
“How was training?”
“Good. I worked with our starting goalie, Chase Hawkins, and I realize I might be good but he’s brilliant. I doubt I’ll get much ice time this season.”
“Isn’t that bad? Don’t you need to play to get paid?” I’m the first to admit I know nothing about professional sports, but if my question is stupid Kallan doesn’t let on.
“No. I’m paid whether I play or not. But I need to keep in shape and play well when I do get ice time. And honestly, if I get just this year learning from Chase, I’ll be forever grateful.”
“What happens next year?”
“I keep playing for the Rogues unless they trade me.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I plan to make myself invaluable to the team.”
“But if you do get traded, what does that mean?”
“It means I move and play for a different team. It’ll probably happen in the future. Chase is too good and not much older than me so taking his starting position will be almost impossible.”
“I need to research how things work…” I don’t like the idea of Kallan moving. A tug on my hand gets my attention.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to put a damper on the mood.”
“You didn’t. I just don’t like not knowing things. Makes me feel stupid.”
“You’re not. Not having knowledge doesn’t make someone stupid, it just makes them uninformed. And that’s easy to fix. You work in the perfect place to do it, too.”
I smile up at him. “I do.”
“But better than that.” He pulls me close to his side. “You’re dating a player. I’ll talk your ear off telling you everything you need to know about hockey.”
Dating? This is only our second date.
My cheeks hurt from how wide I’m smiling. The pounding in my chest is crazy fast and hard.
It would be so easy to fall for Kallan.
KALLAN
“Dammit. I should have just bought her a phone!”
I jog back to my car. I just left the library where I expected to find Haven behind the counter like I do every other day I’m in town.
I hate not being able to talk to her when I’m away, but she insists she doesn’t need a cell and if she did, she’d buy it herself.
I get that she wants to be independent, and I applaud her, except I know she’s lying. In the four months we’ve been dating, Haven has done her best to keep me at arm’s length.
I’ve never been inside her apartment.
It’s strange, especially with how long we’ve been seeing each other and referring to her as my girlfriend.
Until now, I’ve let it slide. That stops today. The fact she’s been homesick for days, and I didn’t know because I’ve been on a three day away trip just pisses me off.
Yanking my driver’s door open, I curse again because a car is the other thing she insists she doesn’t need.
Well, what I need is to take care of her. I just have to work out the right approach—the right words—to convince her I’m serious about our relationship.
It’s scary how serious I am. I’d marry her tomorrow if she’d accept a proposal.
I don’t have time to wish for things I know aren’t happening any time soon. What will happen is her letting me in.
At least she never fought me on taking her home at the end of our dates.
We haven’t reached the sleepover stage yet, even though we’ve spent plenty of nights at my apartment.
And if what I suspect is true—that her apartment is barely adequate—I’ll be using everything I can think of to talk her into moving in with me.
I don’t need four bedrooms and I’m away half the time, so she’d have the place to herself a lot. She’d be doing me a favor staying when I’m away.
Maybe that’s how to convince her.
I have no idea how I manage to be outside her place when I don’t remember turning the car on, but here I am, pushing out of my car and walking up the side path of the house her apartment is beneath.
Knocking on the door yields nothing, and on the off chance the door isn’t locked, I turn the handle.
As the door opens, I see damage to the frame. “Fuck!” Someone forced the door open.
Shoving through the doorway I yell, “Haven!”
What I see inside has my heart stopping, my blood boiling. The place is trashed. Every cupboard and drawer emptied onto the floor.
“Haven!”
“Hey!”
Spinning, I find a man in his seventies if he’s a day, coming at me with a baseball bat. Ducking, I manage to grab the bat and hold him off without hurting either of us.
“What happened to Haven? Where is she?” Desperation laces my voice.
“Who are you?” His shrewd eyes lock onto mine.
“Kallan. Her boyfriend.”
“Where the hell have you been?”
His accusation brings me up short. “Away. I play for the Rogues. We got back today.”
“Right.” The man sighs. “She’s upstairs. At my place until I can get the door fixed, and I ain’t doing that anytime soon. Not until they find that no good mother of hers.”
“I.” I snap my mouth shut and shake my head. “Her mother?”
“Yep. Turned up two nights ago making a racket and busting in the door. Called the cops and chased her off with my bat. But I’m slow these days so this”—he sweeps his arm out to indicate the destruction—“got done before I could stop it.”
“And Haven’s upstairs?”
“Yeah, she’s sleeping. Resting. Got clocked on the head good.”
“She’s hurt?” I’m already moving past him. “Take me to her. Please.”
“Sure. Follow me.”
It takes everything I have to wait for him. I’m barely holding it together, and maybe when I see Haven with my own eyes, I’ll be able to rein in the anger and fear rolling through me.
“She’s all right now. Mild concussion but they didn’t suture the wound, glued it.”
“They glued…” The growl rumbling in my chest isn’t aimed at the old man or Haven. It’s at her mother—at myself.
I should have insisted on the phone. All the times I dropped her off, not once did I check to see if her lock was strong enough to withstand an attack.
It takes him forever to unlock the three deadlocks on his front door, but the second we step inside my gaze ping-pongs in search of Haven.
Spotting her on the couch, I rush forward. “Oh, beautiful, look what she did to you.”
I’m on my knees in front of her, my hands lightly cradling her face so I can tip her head down and get a look at the wound that runs from the center of her forehead to her temple.
“I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt.”
“Bullshit.” My gaze meets hers. “You don’t play hockey your whole life and not know how much a hit to the head that results in a gash like that hurts.”
Leaning forward, I press a soft kiss above the cut.
“Kallan.” She sighs. “Why are you here?”
The tears in her eyes tighten my gut. Maybe she’s not ready to hear it, but after the last few minutes, I need to say what’s been swirling around inside me for weeks. “I’m here because you’re my girl, and I love you.”
Her gasp puts a smile on my face.
“Yeah, not what I expected to reveal under these circumstances but true anyway.”
“You…?”
“I think I fell for you the second you flash that bright smile of yours in my direction.”
“You can’t?—”
“I can. I do. And, like I said, you’re probably not ready to hear it but I needed to say it.” I bend and drop a quick kiss on her lips. “Now, that confession out of the way, I’ve got another one.”
“Oh?”
“I’m going to revert to our primitive ancestors and tell you if you don’t pack a bag and come home with me so I can take care of you, I’ll toss you over my shoulder and take you there.”
“Um, that seems a little extreme.”
“These are extreme circumstances. You were attacked. In your home. Which is currently unsafe. My place has deadlocks, an alarm, and security at every entrance to the building.”
“I know. I’ve been there.”
“You’ll be there again. For as long as it takes to make sure you’re okay and the threat is gone.”
“She got what she came for.”
“What? What did she leave behind that she suddenly needed?”
“It’s not what she left behind. It’s what she knew I had.”
“What?”
“Money.”
“How does she know you have money?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since the morning she left.”
“Okay, let’s not worry about that now. We’ll get you settled at my place and then you can fill me in on all the details, and we can decide how to move forward.”
“I can’t ask you to?—”
“You’re not asking. I’m doing it because I want to.” Keeping my eyes locked on hers I say, “Please, Haven. I about had a heart attack when I saw your place trashed. I’ll go crazy not knowing you’re safe.”
“I’m safe here with Mr. Harkin.”
“Maybe. But what if your mother decides to come back again? What then?”
“I’ll call the cops, and this time make sure I take a swing at her head instead of threatening to,” the old man I now know is Mr. Harkin says behind me.
“No offense, sir, but I’d feel better if I took Haven somewhere her mother won’t know to look for her.”
“Haven?” He sits next to her. “Whatever you want to do, honey.”
Haven’s gaze connects with mine and I try to telepathically beg her to come with me. When that doesn’t work, I resort to more talking.
“It’s not that I don’t think you’d be safe here. It’s for my peace of mind, and if your mother is watching you or your apartment, she’ll soon work out you’re gone, and hopefully, she’ll be gone too.”
“I owe Mr. Harkin rent money.” Her eyes well with tears. “She took my rent money.”
“Oh, beautiful, don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.”
“But—” A sob cuts off her words.
“No buts. We’ll get you taken care of, then once you’re healed, we’ll work out the rest.”
Rhian Cahill is the alter ego of a former stay-at-home mother of four. An Aussie by birth, years spent living overseas and visiting tropical climates have helped inspire some steamy stories.
Multi-published in erotic romance, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance, Rhian, spends her days and nights writing.
When not glued to the keyboard you’ll find her, book or knitting in hand, avoiding any and all housework.