Chapter Three
Callan took the Brighton Hotel’s back porch steps three at a time, dropped Kate’s muddy shoes at the top of the porch and passed through the screen door to have them met by Mrs. B.
“Oh, child! What on earth happened to you?”
“She’s fine, Mrs. B,” Callan said.
Kate quietly groaned.
“Some animals scared her nearly to death and her legs are quite a bit shaky. I figured it was easier for me to carry her back here.”
Luckily, Kate’s face was turned toward him and she missed the look Mrs. B gave him. A look that managed to combine “I know how far you carried her and that’s not normal” with “I think you liked having her in your arms.”
Callan gave her a casual shrug.
“Take her on into the sitting room and I’ll make you both some iced tea. I’ve still got a few cookies left, although no chocolate chip cookies. She seemed to really like those earlier. I’d have to bake another batch—”
“Tea and whatever cookies you have left will be fine.” Callan carried Kate into the sitting room, dropped the bag she’d been carrying next to the coffee table, then settled on a love seat with her still in his arms, on his lap. If she insisted on sitting on her own, that was fine, but she’d still be next to him.
Mrs. B returned with two glasses of iced tea and a plate of cookies. She gave him an arched eyebrow but didn’t say anything about Kate being on his lap. “This is the last of the cookies. I need to finish doing clean-up in the kitchen, but I can get you anything else if you need it.”
“We’ll be fine, Mrs. B Thank you.”
After she left, he turned Kate so he could see her face better. “Let’s get a little bit of food in you before the adrenaline crash happens.”
“S’already happened,” she said. “I just want t’sleep forever.”
“Yeah, I bet. Let’s have you eat something anyway.” He helped her sit up straighter, and when she didn’t try to move off his lap—probably because Mrs. B had put the tray down on the corner closest to where he was sitting—he took that as a small victory.
“Fine.” She picked up a cookie. “Ugh. Oatmeal raisin. I know people love oatmeal raisin cookies, but I just don’t. I think they’re out to get you, all looking like chocolate chip cookies, the raisins pretending to be yummy chocolate, but then pow, you’re eating something somewhat healthy that’s masquerading as a cookie.”
Callan threw back his head and laughed so hard that he knew he was shaking poor Kate. So much so that she slid the tray down the coffee table so that it was closer to the other cushion and she moved off his lap.
“Hmph.” She scrunched up her face and threw him a side-eye.
That just made him laugh even harder. For a woman who’d been terrified to the point of being frozen in her tracks, she had a very strong opinion about oatmeal raisin cookies.
She began lifting the glass of tea to her lips. “Don’t make me spill this tea all over Mrs. Brighton’s nice couch and floor. I’ll be very mad at you.”
He was still jiggling the cushions with his laughter, so he instead focused on her lips as the glass hit them. Her very full, very soft looking lips. When he’d first seen her, she’d been pale and her lips almost ghost white, but they’d regained some color and were now a pale rose. He bet they’d darken to full rose if he kissed her.
And he’d be more concerned about the track his mind was taking if she were still pale and hadn’t just ranted about the evils of oatmeal raisin cookies.
Callan reached for the other glass of iced tea and he was greeted with yet another side-eye. “What? I just carried you over many miles of mountainous terrain. I’m thirsty.”
“You can go ask Mrs. Brighton for some water. Hello, dealing with an adrenaline crash here. I need the caffeine and sugar in my system.”
He took the glass of tea anyway and heard a mock gasp of outrage. He could tell it wasn’t real, because even though she might not know they were mates and had a connection, he did, and right now there was not a single emotion aimed toward him that came close to anger or outrage. All he was getting from her was...well, not those. Definitely not those. He was going to have to teach his Katie how to shield her emotions, because she was broadcasting all sorts of things to him she probably didn’t want him to know.
Like just how much—
She pretended to slap at him. “I can’t believe you just stole my iced tea.”
“Fairly certain that since there are two people in here and there are two glasses, Mrs. B meant for us both to get a glass.”
“How rude. Her name is Mrs. Brighton.”
“Yes, it is. And I’ve called her Mrs. B all my life. I’m not going to change now just because an oatmeal raisin cookie ranting woman says I need to.”
Her eyes widened and her small smile turned into a huge grin. She dazzled him with the brilliance of the gesture. Her whole face lit up and her eyes twinkled with her humor.
Kate ate a few bites of the cookie. “I just don’t like being fooled into thinking I’m getting one thing when really I’m being forced to eat something healthy. It’s wrong and deceivious.”
“Deceivious?”
“Absolutely.”
Callan let the silence fall for a bit while the sky grew darker outside. Mrs. B called out her good-nights to them, saying she needed to get up before the sun the next morning to prepare breakfast for the guests. Eventually, Kate’s breathing evened out and her head slowly slid to rest against his arm. He didn’t dare move that side of his body. It felt too good having her, in effect, snuggled up against him, her left side almost completely touching his right, her cheek against his arm, her breath blowing across his biceps.
He’d already removed his phone from his pocket earlier and now he typed on it with just his left thumb and contacted Connor.
At b and b. K is resting. Haven’t gotten story. Won’t be home for supper.
It wasn’t long before Callan got a response.
Duh. Car and I kinda figured out the supper thing when you didn’t make it home in time for it.
Whatever. He contacted Gray next.
JT isn’t usually so close to b and b. Is usually much closer to my uncle’s property. Any way we can find out something?
The response was immediate.
I’m already working on that. Patrols say he’s been down there more recently. We don’t know why. I can try a drone, but they make noise and he has guns. You might want to make plans to visit your uncle sometime soon. None of us have seen him in a while and JT is popping up more often in town and such instead.
Will do.
Callan thought about his uncle and how much he missed the fun-loving version of the guy from his childhood. The one who’d looked at all of life as a game rather than a competition. Back before he and Callan’s dad had their parting of ways over the way to do business properly and the way to handle the government. Something Callan and JT were somehow still fighting over, although Callan had no reason to fight, nor did he want to.
He shook his head and felt the gorgeous woman beside him stir.
“Hello, Sleeping Beauty. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“No, I’m fine.” She stretched, and Callan admired every inch of her body she put on display. He’d feel bad ogling her only if he got caught.
“You sure you’re fine?”
“Yep.”
“Are you up for telling me what happened?”
She sighed. “I could use some food first.”
“Then let’s go raid Mrs. B’s kitchen, unless you’re up for going out.”
“I’m so not.”
* * *
Kate accepted the feelings of peace and comfort that flooded her system now. She needed them to help gain distance from and perspective of the afternoon’s events. He probably didn’t know how much he was helping her, so she was going to soak it up while she could.
Callan took her hand and led her back to the kitchen, going straight to the fridge.
“It’s like you know exactly what you’re doing back here,” she said.
He winked at her and she wanted to freeze the moment in time. His eyes were beautiful, kind of a pale hazel brown, almost gold.
“I might’ve worked here as a teenager for a year or two or three. I had to make beds, clean bathrooms and take breakfasts up to guests who wanted their breakfasts in their rooms instead of coming downstairs to eat.”
Kate pulled her attention from his eyes and leaned around him to peer into the fridge. “What’s there to eat?” And then she spotted it front and center. “Oh my God. Are those ready-to-bake chocolate chip cookies? I thought she made her own. Like from scratch.”
“She does, but I bet she keeps these for emergencies. Also, it’s awfully convenient that they’re right here, easy for us to find.” He pulled them out and tossed the package on the counter. “Let’s turn on the oven and get washed up.”
“Are you sure we won’t get in trouble?”
“Positive. Now the longer you yap, the longer it’s going to take to get cookies baked.”
Kate scoffed. “You don’t even know me. I don’t yap.”
He gave her a look she ignored while washing her hands. He then pulled out a cookie sheet from one of the cabinets and popped open the package of cookie dough. Kate helped him place the pre-cut cookies on the baking pan and then they just had to wait for the oven.
Callan leaned against one of the counters, his hands folded low across his stomach, his legs stretched out, one crossed over the other at the ankle. He was much taller and bigger than she’d initially realized. Sitting next to him, standing beside him hadn’t had quite the same effect as standing across from him, taking in all of him in one long view.
“Can you talk about what happened while we wait for the baking to happen?” A small furrow sat between his brows and his tone was soft, caring.
She didn’t want to talk about it, but since he was her rescuer and she’d just napped on him, she owed him that. Besides, his voice still soothed her. It wrapped around her and refreshed her. She’d initially thought that maybe it was just the idea that there was someone who’d help her when she couldn’t help herself, but it was more than that. His voice was familiar. It was the one from her dreams. And that just didn’t make any sense at all since she’d never met Callan before today. “I guess so. Especially since there’s not all that much to tell.”
The oven beeped, and Callan moved to put the cookie sheet in before Kate realized that meant the oven was already at temperature. Her brain was elsewhere. Obviously.
A stainless-steel prep table took up the area that most people associated with a kitchen island, and there were four stools stacked in a corner. Callan grabbed two of the stools and slid them up to the table, motioning for her to join him.
His smile was reassuring. “Okay, I’m ready to listen.”
“Well,” she said and shrugged, “I guess it’s really pretty simple. I went for a walk in the woods and got caught up sketching different animals. I walked up on some deer grazing in an open meadow of tall grasses. I was completely and totally focused on them, trying to capture what I could see of their markings, when I heard what sounded like a monkey or a tropical bird approaching.” She shook her head. “It so wasn’t.”
“An eagle?”
“Yup. An eagle. I thought they’d have screeches or something sinister like hawks. But it had a brown body and a white head and what sounded like the voice of a tropical bird chattering away. The deer took off into the woods at a ninety-degree angle from where the eagle was coming from. I watched as the eagle made a turn and then I took off in the direction it was going. It was all happening so quickly, and I wanted to see if it really was an eagle.”
She let out a gusty sigh. “I took off running in the trees, not paying the least bit of attention as to where I was going. All I cared about was keeping up with the few little glimpses I got of that majestic bird of prey. And boy was it ever majestic. But its call is puny if it really was an eagle. I’d made a mental note at the time that I wanted to look that detail up when I could get cell service.”
Kate drummed her fingers on the table.
Callan reached over and took her hand. “Go on.”
“Looking back now, I do recall there being a chain with a sign face down that I jumped over near a tree I used as a vault. So yes, I’m sure it was one of those No Trespassing signs Mrs. Brighton warned me about, and it sucks that all of this was my own damn fault.”
Incredulity crossed his face. “What I want to know is how on earth you were able to run for so long?”
“Eh. I did a lot of sitting at my job, like most people do, so running is my exercise of choice. I enter 5ks and 10ks fairly often.”
“Came in handy.”
She nodded. “At least until the crash hit.”
Silence fell between them, but she continued feeling that same sense of comfort, although it was stronger than what she usually picked up from people. She didn’t understand it, but she wasn’t going to question it. After the day she’d had, letting Callan soothe her, however he was doing it, just felt right.
The timer went off and she jumped. Her nose had already told her brain that the cookies had to be done, but luckily Callan knew not to just follow his nose. He grabbed a cooling rack and a potholder, and there they were, warm gooey chocolate chip cookies, ready for her to burn her tongue on.
He gave her a pretend glare. “Don’t even think about it.”
“How can you possibly know what I’m thinking?”
“You look like a starving woman getting ready to dive in. Give them two minutes on here and then we’ll move them off. In the meantime, we can get something to drink.”
“We need milk.”
“Milk?”
“Of course. Milk and cookies. It’s the perfect meal. You have your dairy food group, your proteins—”
“I don’t think you get to count dairy as a protein,” he said.
“Sure you do. You also have your breads, your fats and your chocolates.”
Callan did a spit take into his sleeve. “I’m sorry, what? Since when is chocolate a food group?”
“Since forever. Ask any woman.”
“What about fruits and veggies?”
She shook her head. “You don’t need those food groups this late at night. The chocolate takes care of them.”
Callan looked in the fridge. “You’re in luck. Mrs. B has milk.”
“You should have some, too.”
He gave her the most put-upon look ever, but poured two glasses of milk. He then moved the cookies to a large plate and set it before her. “Ready for you to burn your tongue on.”
“Just what I was thinking. Perfect timing.”
“And you wondered if I could read your mind.”
“Mmm.” Kate couldn’t answer him because she had a delicious, piping-hot cookie burning her mouth and was attempting to put out the fire with the cold milk. She was in heaven.
When she eventually came up for air, after five or six cookies—she’d lost count—she noticed Callan staring at her with a peculiar look on his face. “What? Do I have chocolate all over my face?”
“As a matter of fact, you do.”
She tried licking her lips, but he reached over and swiped his thumb along the corner of her mouth then down along her chin. He looked at the chocolate for a few seconds then reached for a paper towel.
“No!” How dare he? “You don’t go wiping chocolate off on paper towels or napkins. That’s sacrilege. You’re supposed to lick it off.”
He raised both eyebrows at her.
“Well you do. And if you don’t want it, then I’ll have it back. It’s my chocolate.”
It wasn’t until Callan’s thumb was pressed against her lower lip that Kate’s brain finally caught up with her diarrhea of the mouth. She’d just offered to lick chocolate off his thumb. Possibly one of the more intimate gestures, and she’d only just met him a few hours ago. Oh lord, what was she thinking?
She wasn’t. Hence diarrhea of the mouth.
Kate looked into Callan’s dilated eyes as she quickly, but with enough force to get all of the chocolate off in one swipe, licked his thumb then pulled away.
Except he didn’t go anywhere. Instead, he took that same thumb and ran it along the other corner of her mouth and along that side of her chin. And this time, he brought the bit of chocolate to his own lips and ran his tongue along it.
Oh. My. God. He was tasting her and the chocolate. It was almost like a kiss.
Well then.