Chapter Eight
Kenzie jolted out of sleep to the ringing of a phone, and scrambled across the enormous bed to the nightstand where she’d left it. The number on the screen was private, and as she pressed the button to answer she swallowed a deep breath to steady herself.
Visions of fire had cursed her dreams. She could see it every time she closed her eyes. Flames rising in the gray light. The smell of gas in the air. Voices had whispered in her ears: How much does Marsella value your life? Only this time the knife didn’t just nick the skin, it pushed deeper, and deeper into her throat.
“Hello?” she answered, rising from the bed to pace around the room. Absently she rubbed at her chest, where her heart was still pounding from the dream. “Hello? Who is this?”
“Kenzie, it’s me. What’s going on? I just talked to Garrett. Are you with Cole? Are you all right?” The words came out so fast they almost connected.
“Cassie. Thank God.” Kenzie sat on the side of the bed, rubbing her eyes. “I’m fine. Cole . . .” She looked around the room, finding it dark. The clock on the nightstand said 3:48 a.m. She’d fallen asleep sometime around midnight, but Cole still hadn’t come in. He’d gotten a new phone—a text had come through saying that this was his new number and to call her if he needed anything, but that had been in the afternoon.
Worry jolted her back up, and she raced into the living room, stopping short when she found him asleep on the couch.
One arm was slung overhead, the other rested against his thigh. He’d fallen asleep with his glasses; they were crooked and still taped, a little uneven on his face. His long legs were bent up at an angle to fit on the cushions, and he didn’t have a blanket. She felt a little bad about that—not that she’d expected him to take a side of the bed, he seemed like too much of a gentleman for that—but he’d clearly made an effort not to disturb her.
She wondered when the last time he’d slept in a bed was.
Watching him sleep, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath, she was reminded of how he’d left yesterday morning. She’d known men who weren’t chatty—her brother being one of them—but Cole didn’t seem that way. It was like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t for whatever reason.
If it had something to do with the fire, or her safety, she needed to know.
She ducked back into the room, needing a moment to herself with Cassie before she handed the phone over.
“Cole’s here. He’s asleep. I’ll wake him up in a second,” she said, softly closing the door behind her.
“Are you seriously in Vegas with my brother?”
“Seriously,” said Kenzie. “Believe me. It’s not something I would have imagined happening, either.”
“Is he okay? Are you okay? I heard about the restaurant. Oh God, I’m so sorry, Kenzie.”
She felt her eyes burning with tears, but didn’t let them fall.
“I’m fine. Thanks to Cole. He’d followed me thinking I was secretly meeting you, and then hit one of the bad guys over the head with a fire extinguisher.”
There was a pause, and then Cassie said, “Okay, are you sure he’s my brother? Because that doesn’t sound like Cole.”
“His ID said Cole Talent.”
“Glasses. Tall. Lean. Geeky.”
Kenzie frowned. “Geeky like Clark Kent is geeky.” Which was to say, not geeky in the slightest.
“I don’t know who this Clark is, but you’re absolutely sure you’re with Cole.”
“I’m sure,” said Kenzie, rolling her eyes. “He’s got a restaurant in Vegas, so we’re hiding out.”
Cassie heaved out a breath. “I always wanted you two to meet, but this isn’t exactly how I envisioned it.”
It wasn’t how she had, either.
“Your dad’s guys are still after you,” Kenzie said, unable to help the flare of anger. It wasn’t Cassie’s fault. It wasn’t Cole’s, either, but someone had to answer for this, and they were the closest people at the moment.
“Garrett told me,” said Cassie. “I’m sorry it took so long for us to call. Jake looked up the police scanner when you guys didn’t answer at home. He heard about the fire and went kind of crazy. Crushed our phones, threw me in the car. We’ve been on the road for a few days. I wanted to come back to make sure you were okay, but he said it would put everyone in more danger.” Guilt weighed down her voice.
“He was right,” Kenzie said. She didn’t ask where they were. It was better if she didn’t know.
“I can’t . . .” Cassie hesitated. “This is my fault, Kenzie. I’m so sorry.”
She was tired of hearing I’m sorry. That didn’t bring back her restaurant. Something deep in her chest pinched, caving her shoulders forward. Her friend feeling bad wasn’t what she wanted, either. She just wanted to go back home, to a time when there were no Ben Singers, no fires, when she wasn’t afraid.
She wanted Cassie back, and her family close.
“It’s your dad’s fault,” Kenzie said. “And if you do anything stupid like sacrificing yourself to the bad guys, I swear I’ll never forgive you.”
Cassie gave a watery laugh. “The thought may have crossed my mind.”
The air-conditioning kicked on, and Kenzie pulled the blanket over her shoulders. She imagined Cassie suggesting such a ridiculous thing to Jake. He’d probably hog-tied her for a few days and that was what had taken her so long to call.
“We’ll figure out another way,” said Kenzie.
“We’re already on it on this end,” agreed her friend. “Can I talk to Cole?”
“Yes,” said Kenzie. “Of course. Just . . . can I ask you something real quick?”
“Sure.”
“Why didn’t you tell him about anything? All the trouble you were in.” The bigger question lay just underneath. Did you not trust him?
Cassie sighed.
“Because he’s good,” she said. “He’s the best person I know. I didn’t want him to have to deal with any of this.”
Kenzie thought of what he’d said in the car, that Cassie had practically raised him. She wasn’t that much older, just a year, but she could hear the fierceness in Cassie’s voice, and remembered the defensiveness when Cole had told her his sister had left.
“So he’s, you know, safe to be shacking up with,” she said, just to verify what she was already sensing. Cole felt trustworthy, but she couldn’t shake the thought that he was holding something back from her.
“Has he given you a reason not to think so?”
“No. He keeps telling me he’s going to figure out a way to get us out of this, actually.”
Cassie was quiet awhile, probably wondering, like Kenzie, what that might entail.
“When Cole was seven he wanted this bike,” she finally said. “A Schwinn Duster-something. It was all he ever talked about. He drew pictures of it and put them up in his room. It was green with black handles.” She sighed. “My dad told him he could get one if he earned it, never mind that Elaina and I already had our own bikes. He was always testing Cole like that.”
Kenzie pictured the man sleeping outside the door, feeling a sudden dose of pity for the boy he’d been.
“Anyway, Cole earned it. He set up Cole Enterprises. It was . . . multifaceted.” She laughed again, and it struck Kenzie how easily that laugh came now. It wasn’t always that way.
“He’d buy sodas wholesale and sell them to the kids at school. He got the extra flowers from this local florist and bundled them, then pedaled them outside one of my dad’s restaurants to couples on dates. He even did odd jobs for the janitor after school. It took him over a year, but he finally bought that bike.”
Kenzie smiled, still half wondering where this was going.
“He was valedictorian in college, did he tell you that? After barely passing classes in high school. And he got straight A’s in his master’s program. His first master’s program. He was in London working on his second when everything fell apart with my dad. After the raid on the restaurant, he stayed home to help.”
Okay, that was impressive. She’d sensed he was smart and dedicated to family, but she hadn’t known he was so well educated.
“And then when I left, he took over Rare for me,” Cassie continued. “I don’t think he knew anything about restaurants before then, but it didn’t matter. When he puts his mind to something, he’s all in. He does what he says he’s going to do.”
She’d already felt this. When he’d told her she would be going home soon, she’d believed he would do everything in his power to make that possible.
“So what exactly is he scheming?” Cassie asked, her voice grim now.
“I don’t know,” said Kenzie.
Her friend gave a short hum.
“I’ll get him for you, hang on,” said Kenzie. “I’m glad you’re alive, by the way.”
“Same for you,” said Cassie.
Holding the phone against her side, Kenzie pushed through the door and headed into the living area.
“Cole,” she said quietly, not wanting to startle him.
He didn’t stir.
“Cole?” She moved to his side, but he only turned his head toward the couch and continued breathing softly. She sat beside him, grimacing at the quiet groan of the couch, and then laid a hand on his chest. His undershirt was warm from his skin, the muscles firm beneath her fingertips.
His eyes blinked, and then focused on hers in the dim light.
“Hey.” His voice was deep, rough with sleep, and the sound of it brought a fluttering behind her breastbone. When she didn’t speak, his lips tilted in a small smile, taking her completely off guard. It was an expression of genuine happiness, a private glimpse behind the wall. It was easy, and simple, and suddenly everything about him seemed to get a lot more complicated.
Attraction was familiar; she appreciated a good-looking man as much as the next girl, but this wanting, this ache deep in her belly, was new. It pushed her closer, made her heart beat harder. Made her aware of her hip against his waist, and her hand still on his chest, and the dark stubble on his chin and jaw.
“Kenzie?”
There was a tension in his voice that prodded at her heart. As his smile faded, she remembered the phone in her hand.
“Your sister called.” Too quickly, she stood, and held the phone his direction. She wasn’t sure what had just come over her, but this was no time for distraction. Cassie’s story about a younger Cole had softened her, that was all. She’d forgotten what they were really doing here.
She’d forgotten that she’d borrowed a shirt and a pair of boxer shorts from his bag to sleep in, too, although now didn’t really seem like the best time to bring it up.
His gaze hardened. He took the phone and swung his legs over the side of the couch, scratching one hand through his dark hair. In the slices of neon light through a gap in the curtains, she could see the way it stuck out on the sides when he did this, a mingling of boyish charm and unfiltered sexiness.
She turned away to give him privacy.
“Marsi.”
She meant to go into the bedroom, but curiosity had her veering toward the kitchen. It was possibly a little early for breakfast, but she rummaged around anyway, looking busy while she eavesdropped.
“Where are you?”
She moved some items she’d picked up at the last mini-mart on the road around the pantry—instant oatmeal, bread, cake mix. Her ear stayed turned toward the living room, where Cole was now standing in front of the crack in the curtains.
“What do you mean, you can’t say?”
She could hear the frustration harden his voice.
“Well, are you okay?”
He opened the curtain. Shut it.
“No offense, but I trust Jake about as far as I can throw him.”
Kenzie winced.
The rest of the conversation was difficult to make out. Cole didn’t say much. He repeatedly screwed his thumb into his temple. If he did have a plan for what he was doing to do to fix this situation, he was relaying it to his sister through a Morse code of grunts.
Kenzie couldn’t help but feel bad for him. He’d searched for his sister for two years, only to take a beating in a parking lot when he’d finally gotten close to finding her. Now he was on the run with a woman he barely knew, while the woman he really wanted to protect was with a man he didn’t trust.
“All right,” he finally said, voice quiet. “You promise you’re safe with him?”
She couldn’t hear Cassie’s answer, but she knew what it would be.
“Okay,” he said. And then he hung up.
No good-bye. No I love you. If she were in his place she would have been crying or screaming, one of the two.
He didn’t move for a long time, and when she finally couldn’t stand it anymore, she stepped out into the living room.
“Cole?”
He didn’t turn around. He was still in front of the window, the cell phone in his fist. From behind all she could see was his silhouette, the long, lean build of him, the taper of his waist.
She moved closer, wishing she could wrap her arms around him, comfort him somehow.
“I could make some breakfast,” she suggested. If there was one thing her grandfather had taught her, it was that food could make anything better. “There’s not much, but—”
“I’ll go to the store,” he said bluntly. “Just make a list of what you want.”
If he thought a sharp tone could turn her away, he was wrong. Her brother had trained her how to deflect that crap a long time ago.
“Sort of early for the store,” she said. “I don’t think they open until four thirty a.m, at least.”
He tossed the phone on the chair nearby.
“You can talk to me,” she said, stopping an arm’s length behind him.
He turned, and there was such intensity in his gaze it stole her breath. She’d known he was upset, she’d expected anger, but when he faced her all of his rage and pain and frustration changed into something else.
Need.
He took a step closer. She could feel the air warm between them, a tingling on her skin. Lust stirred inside her, a tightening fist at the base of her belly. She put her hand there, as if that would stop it, but the feeling only spread, climbing up beneath her ribs, warming her chest, and her throat, and her face.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, one last hesitation.
Then he kissed her.
At first, it was only the firm pressure of his lips on hers, and her gasp of surprise locked behind her teeth. Then he shuddered, and his mouth brushed gently from side to side in a way that had fireworks exploding behind her collarbones.
Her eyelids drifted closed, making her focus on the feel of him. The warm breath between his lips. The rasp of his unshaven chin. His nose beside hers. The trembling of power just beneath the surface.
He was holding back.
It’s okay, she wanted to tell him. She wanted this as much as he did—a break from everything. A moment to forget.
She reached for his jaw, thumbs rubbing over his stubble as her soft chest aligned with the hard planes of his. Her fingers pushed up through his hair, running through the thick, dark strands.
His breath came out in a huff, and as if he couldn’t hold back any longer, he broke. His kiss became suddenly frantic. Hungry. Wet and hot and powerful, in a way that made her gasp, and then moan into his mouth.
His hands moved to her wrists and up her arms, leaving traces of heat everywhere he touched. Dragging over her shoulders. Grazing her neck. Finally cupping her cheeks.
They turned, and her back found the window, and what breath remained fled from her lungs as he pressed her against it. She hadn’t appreciated how solid he was until that moment. The hard feel of his shoulders. His rigid abs. Lower, where she could feel him against her hip. Even his thigh as it moved beside hers was strong.
The need sent fire flashing through her veins. His hunger became hers. His need, hers. The want became a buzzing inside her body, extending to her fingertips and toes. She wanted to feel his skin, his muscle, his weight over her. She wanted in a way that was shocking and impossibly intense.
When his mouth moved to her neck, her hands fisted in the back of his T-shirt. The only sounds in the room were their uneven breaths, and the rustle of their clothes, and somehow in the dim light this only made things that much hotter.
Couch, she thought. Bed?
She wanted this.
She wanted . . . but . . .
I barely know you.
It shouldn’t have mattered. She wasn’t opposed to spontaneous sex. She believed that women had beautiful bodies for a reason and that orgasms were good and the occasional cock was glorious. She’d played. Not a lot, but when a battery-operated toy didn’t quite fit the bill. She picked guys who were nice and fun and didn’t want any more than she did.
But Cole was different.
She barely knew him, but she wanted to. For her survival, she needed to feel like he was safe, and that whatever secrets he was holding on to wouldn’t get her in more trouble.
“Cole.” Her voice was a raspy whisper, but he must have heard the change, because he stopped all at once and took a step back. His quick retreat threw her off balance, and she had to stop herself from falling forward, back into him.
One hand slung behind his neck, rubbing the place she had just touched.
She’d meant to slow down, but the sudden halt was jarring.
“Whoa,” she said.
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”
It stung a little, if she was being honest.
She slapped on a smile out of habit.
“Don’t be,” she said. “I mean, holy cow. If that’s the way you kiss, it’s a wonder they let you out of bed at all.”
He laughed awkwardly. “I didn’t mean—”
“I like you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
It was a warning, and her chin tilted up. She wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean.
He scratched a hand over his head, clearly frustrated. “I should go for a run. There’s a gym on the third floor.”
“Cole, it’s four o’clock in the morning.”
“Just make a list of whatever you need. Anything. I’ll pick it up after work.”
The strain was back in his eyes. His mouth opened, closed. His jaw flexed.
Talk to me.
It was an excuse, but she couldn’t find the words to make him stay.
He was chewing his thumbnail as he made his way back to the couch. His duffle bag was open at the far end, the clothes inside still neatly folded. He dug through, pulling out a pair of sneakers and what looked to be another T-shirt.
She wanted to scream at him then. To block the door and demand an explanation, or at least force him to listen to hers. Every part of her that had been raw and vulnerable had turned to steam, and as he came back toward her, avoiding her eyes, her hands turned to fists.
But she didn’t rage at him. And she didn’t stop him. She faked her best smile, the one she reserved for shitty tippers and people who sent back their food, and let him pass, because if there was one thing Garrett had taught her, it was that sometimes people just needed to be alone.
She didn’t understand it, but that was the way it was.
So when the door closed, she locked the deadbolt, stormed into the kitchen, found a notepad and a pen, and began her list.
By the time she hit item thirty-three she’d found her happy again.
When she hit number fifty-one she was downright proud of herself.
• • •
Back behind the closed door of the bedroom, she sat on the foot of the bed and called her brother.
“Hello?”
“You’re answering, which means you must be safe.”
A pause. The clatter of dishes.
“Just making coffee,” Garrett said. She checked the phone. 4:48 a.m, which meant it was almost eight in Ohio. He would have been up for a couple hours at least, and probably had already done at least two perimeter sweeps.
“Nothing weird going on? No one following you?”
“Let me check.” He was quiet a moment. “Nope.”
“This is serious, Garrett.”
“Which is why you’re there, Mackenzie.”
She made a face, which sadly, he couldn’t see.
“You know what I hate about men?” she asked.
In the quiet that followed, she heard him sigh.
“This sounds like a conversation for Cassie.”
It probably was, but at the mention of Cole’s sister she groaned internally. It was because of Cassie’s call the kiss had happened at all.
“You can’t think and do anything else at the same time. You want to go running? Great. Go run. You want to work? Fine. But now it’s thinking time, so everything else has to shut down for maintenance. Is it a penis thing? Does a penis actually prohibit your ability to talk?”
He didn’t say anything.
“Garrett? Hello? I’m speaking to you.”
“I wasn’t sure I was supposed to respond.”
She groaned. “Maybe you need some time to think about it.”
Another pause.
“So how’s it going with Cole?” His question was reluctant at best.
“Oh, you know, like playing tennis against a wall.”
She couldn’t see his smile, but she could practically hear it, and it annoyed her.
“He’s not exactly the greatest communicator,” she added.
Now Garrett chuckled.
“What’s so funny?”
“Not everyone likes talking as much as you, Kenz.”
“Can you feel my glare? Because I can send a picture if you need a reminder.”
She stood up to pace to the window. Opening the curtain just an inch revealed the dark sky, and the glowing lights of the casinos. She wondered if Cole was on the treadmill yet. If he lifted weights, too. What he looked like sweaty, out of breath, shirt clinging to his chest . . .
She shook her head.
“He’s just hard to read.” Absently, she touched her lips. Cole had kissed her like the world was about to end, and then run before they could talk about it. What had he meant when he said she shouldn’t like him? He clearly liked her—she could feel it in the way he’d touched her. Still, he was definitely trying to push her away, and she didn’t know what to make of that.
“You haven’t learned his deepest, darkest secrets yet? What a shock. You met him, what? Four days ago?”
“Five, technically.” But a lot of that time had been spent with one of them sleeping in the car.
“Well, you’ve really slacked off.”
She snorted. She’d learned to read the subtext in Garrett’s conversations a long time ago. Getting to know someone didn’t happen overnight. It took time. Patience.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t patient, it was just that she wanted so much to learn about him.
“He do something to piss you off? Other than not submit his résumé?”
Now it was her turn to pause. She could still remember Cole’s warm hands on her cheeks, and the instant his kiss had turned from restrained to hungry. She hadn’t known what had brought that on, but she hadn’t felt that necessary in . . . well, ever.
She’d liked it more than she cared to admit. Most of the time she was the one who took the lead. She’d never been particularly shy in that way.
“Kenz?” Garrett’s voice had lowered, the same way their grandpa’s had when he was mad about something.
“No,” she said quickly. “Other than leave me in his super nice hotel room without any chocolate.”
The grunt on the other end told her she’d satisfied him for now.
“Never mind,” she said. “Go do whatever you do. Fix lawnmowers. Save the world.” He’d gotten some business fixing people’s small machines around town, but it was more of a hobby than anything else. Most of his income came from a military stipend he’d gotten after his discharge from the army.
He blew out a breath. “I was just heading out anyway. Got a meeting at nine in Benton.”
“Oh?” She could hear the bathroom door open and close quietly. Cole must have come back already. She hadn’t heard him come in. Now that he was back in the suite, she felt another layer of tension settle between her shoulder blades.
“I’ve been talking to our insurance guy.”
The weight dropped from her shoulders to her stomach at his tone.
“About the fire.”
“That’s right.”
“Well?” She ignored the whine of the pipes as the shower turned on, and double ignored the sudden image of a naked Cole soaping himself up.
Garrett sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me about the bills, Kenz?”
She hunched over her knees, prodding a thumb into her temple. “Why? What did he say?”
“You first,” Garrett said stubbornly. “Behind on payments on four separate occasions? What’s going on?”
“It’s been tight, that’s all.” She didn’t feel the need to explain herself to him. To anyone. Flapjacks was her business, and even if her brother was co-owner, they both knew it belonged to her. “It happens. We’ll come back around. I’ve got big plans for a rehaul—”
“You can’t rehaul if they shut off the power.”
He may not have said much, but he always knew how to push her buttons.
“I’ve got it handled,” she said tightly. “Winter is always thin. You know how people are. They like staying in when it’s cold. And we don’t get as many travelers off the highway. But I’ve got the website now, and . . .” The website. She needed to put something up on it to say they were closed for the time being. She’d spin it as a positive. Under construction for renovations. Something like that.
“I could have helped.”
“You barely make enough to pay your own bills.”
“I’d work it out.” Now he was mad, too. She could hear it in his voice.
“So what’s the insurance guy saying? That I couldn’t pay the bills so I burned down the place?”
“Something along those lines.”
She hadn’t expected Garrett to agree, and even though the thought had crossed her mind that this might be coming, she couldn’t actually believe it was true. It hit her like a punch to the face. From the opposite side of the wall came the squeal of the pipes as the water shut off.
“He did?”
“It’s not final,” Garrett said, a little softer. “Look, it’ll be all right. I’m going to see him today. I’ll work it out.”
She bounced on her toes. “I’ll call. He can conference me in.”
“You won’t call. I’ve told him you’re recovering from the fire and I’m handling it. I don’t want anyone else knowing where you are.”
Not for the first time today, she felt trapped here, and now powerless to boot.
“Garrett, you have to tell him I didn’t do this.”
“Course I’m going to.”
“No, you have to . . .” She wanted to shake something. Kick something. Do something. Her brother wasn’t the one you brought in to smooth things out. He wasn’t a good negotiator—not unless it involved his fists. This was her part. Her role. Flapjacks was her responsibility.
“I’m coming home,” she said. “I’ll catch a flight today.”
“You do and I’ll tell him you lit the first match.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I’m not trying to be funny. You need to lay low, Kenzie. You need to let me handle this. Trust me, all right?”
“Gar—”
“Trust me,” he said again. “I’ll get us out of this, but you’ve got to promise me something.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” she grumbled.
“Fill me in. You need help, ask for it.”
“I don’t . . .” She couldn’t finish, and not just because saying she didn’t need help would be an embarrassingly stupid thing to say now that he knew about the overdue bills, but because she wasn’t too proud to ask. She reached out for help all the time.
She just didn’t ask him.
“Yeah,” he said, as if he knew what she was thinking. The distance settled between them, thousands of miles connected by this stupid, cheap phone. She wanted to see him. Give him a hug. Tell him it was okay, but he felt as far away as he’d been overseas, and every burden he’d brought back stood between them like shards of glass.
“I’m still your big brother,” he said.
Her throat grew tight. She tried to swallow down the knots, but they stayed.
“You won’t tell him what really happened, right?” She didn’t like it; the truth seemed the only way to avoid her own arson charge. But she’d rather face jail time than those men coming after her again, or worse, hurting her brother.
“Don’t see how I can without telling them about Cassie.”
Which meant he wouldn’t. Her head fell forward in relief, long strands of hair slipping over her shoulder. She found the purple streak and twisted it around her finger.
“I’m sorry about her, by the way,” she said. “I know you . . . you know.”
He made a manly sound of disapproval.
“She’s happy, though. That means something, right?”
“Yeah, I suppose it does,” he said after a while.
“You’ll meet someone someday,” she told him. “A tree. Or a large rock. Something just as charismatic as you are. You’ll have great conversations. Really stoic babies. They’ll probably never cry.”
He groaned. “Stay safe, Kenz.”
“I love you, big brother.”
“Uh-huh.”
He hung up, and left her staring at the closed curtain of the bedroom window, listening to the quiet, and feeling helpless.
She didn’t have to open the door to know that the suite was empty. Cole was gone again, leaving only the memory of his searing kiss, and his warning not to like him, behind.