Chapter Two #2
“I’m good, my boy! I see you brought Jace with you. Jace! How have you been?”
“Well, sir. Thank you.” They shook hands, and I noted how gentle both men were with Charles. They made small talk, and I was given the opportunity to quietly observe how different these two imposing men were from one another.
They both moved with the same precision and strength of those trained for combat.
But whereas Jace was lighthearted and friendly with a laugh that made me want to join in, Owen’s quiet, commanding presence carried the unmistakable weight of danger.
He moved like a man who knew how to handle a crisis, and damn, that was sexy.
No. No. You are not attracted to the aggravating man who can’t say a proper hello.
Besides, the last time I’d fallen for a handsome, six-foot-tall sex god, it ended in betrayal and heartache.
Owen laughed softly at something Charles said, and my traitorous heart skipped another beat. I needed to leave. Now.
I inched toward the door. It was possible I could leave without them noticing, politeness be damned.
But Charles had other plans. Of course he did.
“You’ve both met Kira by now?” he asked, peering around his grandson.
Both men turned toward me, and I came to an abrupt halt. I had been so close. Hoping my smile didn’t look like a grimace, I stepped back into the living room.
“Kira is my next-door neighbour,” Charles continued. “Started renting the place about two months ago. She attends university here and has been wonderful company for me. She’s helping me pack my things, too.”
“Is she now?” Owen muttered. I lifted my chin a notch.
“At the University of Toronto?” Jace asked. “What program?” At least Jace was friendly.
“Yes. U of T. English literature.” I infused my voice with confidence and made a point of ignoring Owen, who had moved into a shadowed part of the room. From this angle, I could barely see the scarred side of his face.
“She’s a smart cookie, our Kira is,” added Charles, and I tried not to glare at him. Could he be any more obvious? “Completing her PhD, teaching classes, and volunteering at our local animal shelter on weekends. Plus, she looks after me. Quite the catch, wouldn’t you say—”
“How about yourselves? What do you do?” I interrupted before Charles could embarrass me further. Jace grinned, but Owen looked as irritable as ever. There would be no more dreaming about this man. Ever.
“We’re officers with the Canadian Armed Forces,” Jace answered. “Well, I still am. Owen gave up that life about five years ago and runs his own security business.” His smile grew sly. “Some would say Owen is quite the catch as well.”
Owen turned his glare on his friend, giving me the opportunity to study his handsome profile. Not that I cared.
I nodded politely and edged toward the door again. “Well, I should be going. You three must have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Nonsense,” said Charles while Jace protested as well. Owen, however, nodded in agreement with me. I imagined kicking his shins. In a sudden burst of spite, I decided that I would stay.
“Okay, then,” I said, directing an especially withering look toward Owen. “Just let me wash up. I’ll be right back.”
I hurried to the bathroom and quickly washed my hands, face, and glasses.
I debated letting my dark hair down from its customary messy bun, held in place by a forgotten pencil, then left it as it was.
I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. My black T-shirt and jeans were still dusty, and I was a bit sweaty from all the work I’d been doing, but it was the best it was going to get. I opened the bathroom door.
And almost crashed into Owen. For the love of…how did this keep happening? The man was going to think I was a calamity on two legs.
He stood in the darkened hallway, leaning against the wall, one ankle crossed nonchalantly over the other, but his eyes were anything but casual. They were angry and accusatory, and I understood why he had gone into the bodyguard business. Owen was intimidating.
“Umm, excuse me,” I muttered as I edged past him, taking care not to trip on his crossed ankles. Showing my clumsy side again to Mystery Man would be a suitable end to this unpleasant evening. He didn’t move aside and seemed in no rush to go anywhere. Rude.
“You think I don’t know what’s going on here?” he whispered.
“Please, enlighten me,” I shot back, pivoting toward him.
“No way in hell a beautiful woman like you spends a Friday night helping an elderly person pack unless they want something in return.”
I was too stunned to immediately answer. And what was with everyone criticizing my Friday night plans? Wait, had he just called me beautiful? “What are you talking about?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“You. Scamming my grandfather. Trying to get into his will, perhaps?”
My mouth fell open in shock. “Why would you ever think that?”
“You didn’t want the elderly woman to see you.
Something about your history, you said. Did you scam her, too?
And then, for the past two months, all I hear from my granddad is how helpful you’ve been.
Plus, you conveniently moved into the house beside him when Gran died and he was at his most vulnerable. Suspicious to say the least.”
“Are you serious right now?” I seethed. “That is the most insulting thing anyone has ever said to me. I would never hurt Charles! He is the kindest, most interesting man I have ever met, and I love helping him. And not that Sylvia’s history with me is any of your business, but she is the grandmother of a man who hurt me.
Badly. Ugh! Why am I even explaining this to you?
Besides, where have you been? Certainly not here when your own grandfather needed help. ”
His eyes widened and guilt flashed across his face so quickly I almost missed it in the dim lighting. I’d hit a sore spot. Good.
“I’ve been busy,” he said. “Besides there are movers for these kinds of things.”
“He doesn’t want complete strangers helping him! We have fun going through his old photographs and notebooks. He gets to relive his days as an archaeologist, and I enjoy listening to him. We’ve become friends.”
Owen drew back, his expression now more thoughtful than accusatory, but I no longer cared what he thought.
“This is a ridiculous conversation,” I muttered. “If helping someone seems odd to you, you need better people in your life.”
I felt proud of that retort as I spun away, until I tripped on his crossed ankles, and the floor rushed up to smack me in the face.
A strong arm shot out, wrapped around my waist, and hauled me upright.
I landed against Owen’s chest in a dusty “oomph.” My glasses slid down my nose, and my bun gave up, my hair falling across my face as the pencil dropped behind me.
I was sure I looked like a disgruntled mop. Perfect, Kira. Just perfect.
Owen’s hard, warm chest was actually perfect, though.
Did the man live in a gym? I slowly raised my gaze, taking in his chiselled jaw, firm lips, and intense blue eyes.
For a moment, I was keenly aware of every point of contact between our bodies—my hands flattened against his chest, my lower half pressed to his, his arm banded firmly around my waist. His heart beat quickly under the palm of my hand.
We fit perfectly together. This feels right.
And then I remembered what he had accused me of, and I was once again outraged.
“Let me go!” I pushed against his chest and stepped back. He let his arm fall, and I marched down the hall toward the living room with as much dignity as I could muster.
Charles was having a conversation with Jace, but he watched me as I walked toward him. I gave him a stern we’ll-discuss-this-later look.
“Charles, I’m sorry. I just remembered that I do, in fact, have plans tonight and can’t stay to chat. I’ll stop by tomorrow to finish these boxes. Jace, it was lovely to meet you.”