Page 37 of Brutal Mate

Leaving the room, Miley headed down the hall towards the kitchen. As she grew closer, she heard the sound of metal on a chopping board, the rhythmic sound of cutting so mundane. The smell of food cooking made Miley's stomach growl and ache.

The sound of the old static radio on low was almost cut out by the added sound of her grandma singing. Even more than that, she could hear Kane humming along.

And the sight that met her eyes as she turned the corner startled her greatly. Her grandma was standing stirring a pot over the stove while Kane stood beside her, chopping vegetables in a rather fetching pink frilled apron.

It was certainly a sight to behold. A giant of a man with tattoos as far as the eye could see and a jet-black beard that grazed his chest when he looked down did not have any right to look so damn cute or hot in a pink frilled grandma’s apron.

Hell, he didn't even seem like the type to be doing mundane household chores. Yet there he was, chopping carrots and humming along to the radio as if he was in his element.

Miley leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed, and watched him for a while. That was, until Moses got up from his favorite spot on the rug and came to sniff her arm, growling grumpily before returning to his spot.

Whatever that dog's problem was, she didn't know, but he seemed to be getting used to her, so she let him be.

“Ah, Miley! There you are!” her grandma said when she turned, catching sight of her in the doorway. “I was just about to send Kane in to check on you.”

Kane turned and looked her up and down, his knife still in hand. “We were getting worried. How are you feeling?”

The concern in his eyes appeared genuine, but after the dream she had just had, Miley was in no mood for his concern.

“Fine,” she said a little gruffly.

At her tone, her grandma looked between them, her suspicion clear.

Though she hated to admit to his being right earlier, she was well aware that it wouldn't do to make her grandma suspicious, and so she forced herself across the room.

Kane looked mighty surprised when she leaned up on her tiptoes and pecked him on the cheek.

“Stop being such a worrywart. I'm fine,” she insisted with a smile. She could have sworn that she heard Kane gulp.

“Well then, why don't you set the table, Miley, while Kane and I finish up dinner?” Grandma suggested, smiling at Kane as if he were God’s gift.

“Of course, Grandma,” Miley said through gritted teeth, and she moved carefully around Moses to grab everything she needed to set the table.

“You know, Miley, I wish you'd told me Kane was coming,” Grandma continued as they all went about their chores. “I'd have written a list of things that needed doing around this place. He's already fixed my leaky sink and that damned old water heater while you've been resting.”

“Happy to help, Mrs. Peters,” Kane said, his tone so sincere that it actually made Miley feel nauseous.

Why was he being so sweet? Why did he have to be such a good guy?

She tried to close her eyes and hold on to her original impression him. Big, tattooed, aggressive, mean, bad guy. When she opened her eyes to look at him again, he was still all of those things, and yet he was so much more.

No, he is nothing! Miley told herself, wishing not for the first time she could slap herself without looking entirely insane.

Sitting down to eat dinner, just the three of them, didn't help matters any. Kane was charming and funny and practically had Grandma eating out of the palm of his hand.

Miley tried her hardest not to be drawn in by him, but several times she caught herself leaning her chin on her hand, her elbow on the table, to look into those charcoal eyes of his.

They once had struck fear into her, but now they made her feel so much more than that. And that was frightening in itself.

When they had finished the pork and apple stew that grandma had lovingly prepared, Miley used clearing the table as an excuse just to get away and breathe for a minute or two. It was becoming exceedingly more difficult to do with Kane around.

But when she returned to the table, her breath caught in her throat at the way Kane was looking at her.

“What?” she blurted without thinking.

His gaze, the thoughtfulness if it, unnerved her, and she stood with the hair on the back of her neck rising on end.

“I was just asking Mrs. Peters if she might permit me to take you for a walk,” Kane said, glancing at Grandma. “It is such a lovely night, and it's been a long time since I was last on a farm.”

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