Chapter Fourteen
Teddy
The scent of her hair woke me up. Kiara shifted again on the pillow, and the warm, floral scent reached me again. I took a deep breath to stave off panic and opened my eyes.
She wasn't awake yet. I let out my breath in a quiet sigh. For just a few seconds, I marveled that she was only a few inches away. Kiara was wrapped in an over-sized t-shirt and burrowed under the covers, but her bare legs were tangled with mine. I tugged lightly to free my arm from around her warm waist.
It had been early in the morning when she had finally fallen asleep. I could still hear her sleepy voice asking me to stay, to hold her. Thinking about it made me warmer than the band of sunlight creeping up the covers.
Kiara was going to wake up soon and be devastated about her brother all over again. She didn't need me hanging around, trying to hang on to those fiery moments we had together before the phone call.
I was halfway to the door when I realized I didn't have my cell phone. The sunlight touched Kiara's dark hair, and suddenly it didn't matter that I was stranded. I didn't want to leave. Instead, I turned my energy towards making a decent cup of coffee without making too much noise.
Kiara woke up like she'd heard a gunshot. She sat straight up in bed, clocked me right away, and then smoothed back her wild, wavy hair.
I glared at the loud cabinet latch and held up the coffee mugs I had found. "Thought you might want some coffee," I said.
She shook her head, tugged down the hem of her shirt, and scuttled out of bed. "No time. I have to make a dozen phone calls before I head to work."
"Coffee to go, it is," I said.
"Teddy, we don't have to do this," she said. She gripped the doorframe of the small bathroom. "I'm sure you have better things to do, and I've got to…"
Her words trailed off and twisted at my heart. "I'm not doing anything without coffee," I said, "and I'm not leaving you like this."
"Like what?" she snapped. She whirled into the small bathroom and slammed the door behind her.
It was easier for her to be mad at me than to admit she was terrified about what happened to her brother.
When she tore out of the bathroom, fully dressed and ready to face anything, she first gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. Then, she took her coffee and waited impatiently for me to follow her out the door.
"What are you doing, Teddy?" she snapped as she strode down the sidewalk.
"Walking you to work. Don't you think it'd be better if you took the day off?"
Kiara nearly knocked the hot coffee out of my hand. "And do what? What do you think is going to happen here?"
"I think I'm going to walk you to work, get you the day off, and then help out in any way I can," I said. "I don't have any other expectations besides that."
She softened, but kept her skeptical frown. "I'm not taking the day off."
I couldn't believe that her boss Pappy agreed. He shook both hands and his head. "No, no, no. I already have two people out, and we're nowhere near prepped for the lunch rush. People are demanding the new sauce, and Kiara has to make it."
I stepped up to the tall pizzeria owner. "Didn't you hear what I said about her brother?"
Pappy took a deep breath and stood up even taller. "You don't know how to take care of her. Kiara needs to work, needs to be busy. That way the worry can't catch hold."
"You're really that short-staffed?"
"I know ounce per ounce how much produce, dairy, and dough we go through every day. I'm telling you that I don't have enough people to move that much, much less make it taste good," he said. "I've been in this business longer than you've been alive, so when I say we're short-staffed, I'm not just breathing hot air."
It was my turn to hold up my hands and wave them - in surrender. "All right, all right. Then you won't mind if I stick around and lend a hand?"
Pappy's deep scowl said that he did, but he turned to Kiara. "You want this guy around all day helping out?"
She scoffed. "You're volunteering for another shift? Come on, Teddy, I'm sure you have something better to do."
"I don't consider brunch something to do," I muttered.
"What?" Kiara asked.
"Nothing. The only other thing on my to-do list is your cottage reconstruction, and since I can't do that without you, I'm staying right here." I grabbed a clean white apron from the counter and wound it around myself.
Kiara finally relented and helped untangle me. As she tied the apron on right, she glanced up at me. "Pappy's right, you know. I don't need a shoulder to cry on. I need a distraction."
The smile she gave me, along with the tug on my apron strings, sent a spike of heat to the core of me. I shifted under the white apron. Sudden images of Kiara's silken body under my hands burned through my brain. Now, I was the one who was distracted.
Kiara brushed too close to me every chance she got, and seeing as behind the pizzeria counter was a space as wide as the interior of a car, we rubbed past each other often. She flirted with me over customer orders, let her eyes drift down over my body, and even whispered a few things in my ear just to watch me shiver with delight.
I was glad to help, especially in such a pleasant way, but there were moments when the color drained from Kiara's face. Her eyes would go clouded, as if she was trying to see something a thousand miles away. There was no way to save her from the stress and the worry.
"Lunch break." Pappy shoved a slice of pizza and a soda at me and nodded at the back door. "One at a time. It's too busy otherwise."
I found myself shoved outside into the alley. As I sat at a decrepit patio set across from the dumpster, I tried to catch glances of Kiara through the open door. She still smiled at customers, prepped the fresh pizza toppings, and spooned sauce expertly onto pizza dough, but there was a sad slope to her shoulders.
I snatched up my phone and called my assistant. "Who do we know in the U.S. Embassy?" I asked.
I was two thirds the way through a long list of contacts in the U.S. Armed Services when Kiara appeared in the alley doorway with her own slice of pizza. "Thanks again, Admiral. I really appreciate it."
"Planning another party?" Kiara asked.
"With a naval officer?" I stood up and brushed off my pants.
She tipped her head. "I assumed it was someone's nickname. You seem to do that."
"Me?" I asked, insulted. "Oh, you mean ivy league fraternity guys like me? I'll have you know-"
"Brickman," Pappy barked from inside the hot kitchen, "you're back on."
I had to leave Kiara to her wrong assumptions, and I scowled at Pappy as I headed back to the cash register. "I'm trying to help her," I said.
He snorted. "Kiara Davies doesn't need help. She needs someone to care for her."
"I care for her." The words jumped out and couldn't be taken back, no matter how surprised I was.
"You aren't," Pappy said. He waved a pizza cutter at the back door. "She only had coffee this morning. She's not eating."
"She's not hungry," I said.
He glared at me. "You only know one way to feed her. I see the looks you two are exchanging."
I had to tamp down my own happiness at hearing my suspicions confirmed by a third party. Kiara had been giving me searing hot signals all through the lunch rush. No wonder I hadn't noticed that she was hardly eating.
"I care for her," was all I could say.
"You still have time to make it to Manhattan for dinner," Kiara said, returning from her break. "If not, you'll be stuck here until midnight. The dinner rush always turns right into the party crowd on the weekends."
"I'll bet you a slice of pizza that I can sell more side salads than you before six o'clock," I said.
She smiled, surprised. "Just ask Pappy; he'll give you another slice if you're still hungry."
"No," I said, glancing at Pappy, "if I win, you have to eat a slice of pizza."
She frowned, annoyed that I was calling her out, but Kiara finally agreed. "If I win, you are definitely going to have to sing karaoke from the jukebox."
"I only sing rock ballads," I told the customer who was waiting for his order.
He nodded in agreement, but his wife stepped forward, "I'll buy two side salads just to make sure that doesn't happen." She winked at me.
"Oh, is that the way you're going to play it?" Kiara asked. She bumped me aside from the cash register as a knot of high school basketball players entered the pizzeria. A few coy smiles and a giggle or two, and they practically emptied the case.
"Brickman, you're on lettuce duty," Pappy called.
It took all the charm I had, and Pappy's command of the regular customers, but Kiara finally conceded to eat a slice of spicy pepperoni pizza.
She was right about the party crowd, and after her quick snack, the rest of the shift was a blur. I felt like I didn't take another deep breath until Kiara and I stepped out the back door.
She leaned against the brick wall by the old patio table and looked up. Just above the cut of the buildings, there were tiny, bright stars. "Mind if we stay for a minute?" she asked.
"In the alley?"
She nodded. "I like this alley. It's clean, tucked away, almost like a little back patio."
Pappy had strung white twinkle lights over the door and around the ragged umbrella of the patio table, so there was a charming glow to the spot. He had locked the pizzeria door behind us from the inside and left out the front, so we had the alley to ourselves. It felt good to stand there in the cool air after a long, sweaty shift. I knew Kiara was treating it like limbo—halfway between work and her worries about her family.
"Listen, Kiara, I know we might not be close enough for you to confide in me, but if you want to talk…" I trailed off and shrugged.
She unwound her hair from her thick braid. "I don't want your comforting words. I don't want anyone's comforting words. Nothing's going to help until I know one way or the other."
"Then what can help you wait?"
She pushed off the brick wall and walked over to press against my chest. She shook out her dark, wild hair and raised her warm gaze to mine. "I want a distraction. I need you to distract me, Teddy."
My breath fled my body, leaving my lips parted. I felt her arms slide around me, and her hands slipped into my back pockets. Before I inhaled, I pressed my lips to hers, breathing her in. She rubbed up, her soft breasts teasing us both as she reached up on her tiptoes and answered my hungry lips.
It took all my willpower and Kiara's excellent sense of direction to get us back to her attic apartment. There were moments along the way when we got lost in each other, almost consumed by the heat she fired between us. So when the door finally shut behind us, we didn't make it farther than her kitchen table.
Kiara pressed me against the edge of the table, slipping between my legs and pushing hard so she almost lay on top of me. I held on to the table edge and kissed her back, sparring with the press and rub of her electric body. Every muscle was tense, trying to hold back, but she was building up a volcano inside me.
"Teddy, please," she murmured, her lips wet against mine.
I stood up and spun her around. She shimmied onto the tabletop and grabbed me by the shoulders. I hugged her close, holding my breath as her legs wound around my waist.
I needed to go slow, needed to get control of my hammering heartbeat and prove to myself that I could handle this. Kiara called up such a rush of feelings inside me that I could not separate tenderness from burning lust.
She caught my face and looked me in the eye. "Don't hold back. I need this."
A growl escaped my throat as I yanked at the waistband of her jeans. Kiara's fingers fumbled over my belt as we nipped and kissed and panted mouth to mouth. When I caught her hips and thrust forward hard, she cried out. I opened my eyes to see an open-mouthed smile of ecstasy cross her lips.
Then she dove into another deep kiss, pulling me down with her, and I was lost in wildly cresting waves. She arched her back, gripping the edges of her small kitchen table. I heard the feet scrape across the floor as I pumped another orgasmic smile onto her face.
When our climaxes finally ebbed, we were both limp and exhausted. Kiara sat up, took both my hands, and led me to her bed. As soon as she was wrapped in my arms, I fell into a deep, floating sleep until morning.
#
The caller I.D. on my new phone was blank, but I didn’t need it. Only my father would call so insanely early in the morning. The sun was up, but the light was still cool, just barely more than a glow.
I clutched the phone to my cheek and didn't bother to sit up. Behind me, Kiara stirred, but settled back down.
I kept my voice low. "Now's not a good time."
"I'm being polite," my father snapped. "This way you'll be decently sober and awake by the time you arrive."
"Arrive? Where am I supposed to be going?"
"Breakfast at the country club," my father said. "Don't tell me you forgot. Whitney set this up ages ago and has everything all set. You will not miss this morning."
"Whitney set it all up? Then, I'm definitely saying no. I'm done with all her blatant manipulations." I sat up as gingerly as I could. "I don't care who her family is, how much she's worth, or how many times she has a stunning photo in a magazine. Whitney and I are done. She's going to have to find some other eligible bachelor to terrorize."
My father took a deep breath to begin his argument, but I hung up my phone. Then, I turned it off and tossed it aside. I was just slipping quietly back under the covers when I noticed that Kiara's eyes were open. She arched an eyebrow at me as I lay back down on the pillow beside her.
"Sorry if I woke you up. Just had to tell my father something," I whispered.
Kiara snorted. "How convenient."
"What do you mean?"
She rolled onto her elbows and looked down at me with a frown. "You don't have to feel guilty on my behalf. I don't need some big show about how you're single. You don't have to pretend for me. Last night was just a distraction. It doesn't have to be more than that."
I sat up. "You think I'm lying about not being engaged to Whitney Barnes? I assure you, I have not, nor will ever, ask her to marry me. It seems like I have to make that much clearer to everyone, including my father, but you, at least, should believe me."
"Why?" she asked. "Because of last night?"
"What am I going to have to do to prove to you that I'm not some two-timing, rich-boy scum?" I held out my hand. "Elope with me. Then you'll have to believe me."
"Don't be stupid, Teddy," Kiara said. She turned her face away and buried it in her pillow.
I lay back down and scooped her against me. "I'm not kidding, Kiara. I want you to know that I'm not attached. I'm not cheating on anyone or taking advantage of anyone. With you, it's different."
"Different?"
I could hear her smile curving against the pillowcase. "Which is exactly why I can't articulate what it is. All I know is I want more of this and less of everything else."
Kiara didn't pull away from me, but she lay very still. Finally, she sighed. "It's too early to be talking like that. Can't we just stay like this for a little while longer?"
I sunk my face into her soft hair and breathed deep the mysterious floral scent that clung to her. Even after a shift at the pizzeria and a night in bed, Kiara smelled fresh. I couldn't get enough of it.
"Are you smelling my hair?" she giggled.
"I'm just trying to distract you," I said. I placed my lips against her bare skin and melted into a kiss.
Just as Kiara was warming to my trail of kisses, there was a heavy pounding on the front door. She sprung from bed and dressed in a flash. "That might be news about my brother," she explained.
I jumped up and had just hauled on my wrinkled pants when Kiara pulled open the door.
"Who are you?" she asked.
My father's driver, an imposing mammoth of a man in a black on black suit, stood in the doorway with a dry-cleaning bag over one massive arm. "I am Mr. Brickman's driver this morning. I apologize, but he has an appointment he cannot miss."
Kiara turned to me with an arched look. "Did you forget?"
I scowled. "No. I declined, remember? Sorry, but my father sent you for nothing."
The driver shook his head and held out the dry-cleaning. "You have ten minutes to change and say your goodbyes."
"Or else what?" Kiara asked.
I pushed between her defiant stance and the driver's firm arm to snatch up the clean clothes. Then, I shut the door in his face. "Thanks. Ten minutes."
"What are you planning to do?" Kiara asked with an amused smile. "Climb out the fire escape?"
I swore under my breath. "He'll just catch me in the alley. He's the size of a truck, but he can move fast."
She laughed. "Well, good luck with all of that."
I snaked my arms around her waist and pulled her back against my chest. "I don't want to go, but there's something I need to clear up. Are you all right?"
She twisted in my arms and gave me a long, searching look before she said, "I'm fine. No news is good news at this point."
"I asked my connections to look into your brother's location. I'll tell my father about it and see what he can do, too," I said.
She rested her head on my shoulder for a brief moment. "Thanks, Teddy. I'm sorry I've been such a mess."
I cut her off with a kiss. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Unless you want me to stay."
Kiara couldn't say yes, even if she wanted to, so she just shook her head. She stepped away to start making coffee and only looked up when I was dressed in my clean suit and stood in the open door.
"Do you believe me yet?" I asked, joining her on the front steps of her apartment building.
She looked up. "Stop worrying, Teddy. We're good."
"But I want to be better than good," I ranted at the mountainous silhouette of my father's driver as he pulled away from Kiara's apartment building a few minutes later. "She just won't believe that we're equals. And then there's this whole mess with Whitney."
The driver didn't say a word, so I kept rattling on, complaining about the false impressions Whitney had given the world and how Kiara probably thought I had just used her. Though, Kiara had used me right back. Maybe that was the worst part of it. I wanted more.
"Good chat," I said when my father's driver opened the back door and released me from the limousine.
"Good luck," he said.
I laughed and shook my head all the way up the country club steps. I knew I didn't have anything to complain about. Here I was fretting about an over-zealous heiress wanting to marry me while I was just leaving the girl of my dreams. My problems were ridiculous, and I built up an anger around that as I entered the elegant dining hall.
What was I doing attending a fancy breakfast meeting while Kiara was waiting to hear if her brother was alive or not?
"Father, we need to talk about the Davies," I said. I shook his hand as I joined him, Whitney, and Whitney's mother at the table. "Charles Davies is MIA. Don't you have connections in the Department of Defense? Can you find out anything about his situation? Something that might help his family?"
"Son, it's commendable that you are worried about your neighbors. I'll look into it, but first, you need to mind your manners," my father said.
I scowled at his dismissal and at how he treated me like a child. Though, I had to wipe the irritation off my face as Whitney held out her hand. I had no choice but to kiss it and then greet her mother before joining them at the table.
I stuffed a linen napkin into my lap. "I'm sorry to bring such a tragic subject to breakfast, but our neighbor is missing in action. I believe he's a Marine, and his family is very concerned."
"You mean Kiara is very concerned." Whitney's voice was light and her expression neutral, but I saw the snapping anger in her eyes.
"We all should be," I said. "He's overseas defending us."
"Why don't we give these two lovebirds a moment alone?" Mrs. Barnes asked, oblivious to the conversation.
In fact, she was so certain that we'd stick to the script that she held up an arm for my father to help her before he'd even stood up. My father jumped up and helped her from her seat. As they took a turn around the dining room, my father gave me a significant nod.
I looked around. The man near the coat-check looked like the photographer I had seen before. I recognized a table of brightly-dressed women as some of Whitney's closest friends. Our centerpiece was different from all the other tables, an overflowing arrangement of Whitney's favorite hothouse blossoms. And, they just happened to match her ensemble perfectly.
"Another set up?" I asked.
Whitney blinked but gave a serene smile. She even reached over and laid a hand on mine to make sure our picture looked perfect. "What do you mean?"
I tugged my hand away. "I mean, you expect me to propose to you right here, right now. Don't you?"
"Teddy, please, you don't have to make a big show of it."
"There's no show," I said, louder. "I will not be strong-armed into proposing to you."
She narrowed her eyes but had to smooth out her expression as our parents circled back to the table. "What are you saying, Teddy? You don't want to marry me?"
"Whitney, dear, we should visit the powder room while these fine gentlemen order champagne," Mrs. Barnes interrupted. She held out her heavily-jeweled hand, and Whitney stood up to take it.
They swept through the dining room, followed by a gush of speculation.
"Teddy, this is ridiculous. Either you choose this life or you don't. No more dabbling," my father said.
"Is that what you were doing? Just dabbling with my mother?" I asked.
My father's brow clashed together. "Is that what this is about? I think your mother would have approved of Whitney."
"She wouldn't have wanted me to enter into marriage like a business deal." I stood up and faced my father. "Is that why she turned you down? Why I was born without you knowing about me? Did you present her with a cold business deal like this?"
I didn't wait for an answer. My father never talked about my mother, and he wouldn't start in the middle of our country club. I threw down my napkin and headed for the door.
In the foyer, Whitney's sharp manicure caught hold of my arm. "You're leaving?"
"Whitney, I'm sorry, but you have to understand that it is over between us. There will be no picture-perfect proposal or dream wedding, or financially-solvent merging of our family legacies." I pulled free of her grip.
"No," she hissed under a pleasant smile. "You will not make me look like a fool. Either you get on board with this engagement, or your precious Davies family will suffer a social tragedy, as well as one overseas."
"Are you threatening me?" I asked, not shocked, but disgusted.
"Not you," Whitney said, her expression still charming while her words showed a nasty edge. "Your little cook won't be able to show her face in any decent kitchen after she deals with her stepsisters’ transgressions."
"What do you mean?" I asked, but Whitney took the opportunity to walk away and leave me calling after her.
It didn't matter, I told myself. Now I was free to go back to Kiara.
Still, I couldn't help feeling the icy cut of Whitney's smile. She was bent on revenge, and I had no idea what she meant about Kiara's stepsisters, much less how to stop her.