Page 105 of Things We Burn

The air between us was charged, Kane pinning me in place with his possessive stare.

I was barely breathing.

“You hungry?” he asked.

I licked my lips. “Starving.”

Kane’s body jolted. And although there was a lot of unfamiliarity between us right then, I knew that response. I knew he was feeling the same desire I was. It was the fire in his eyes, the way his shoulders tightened, his jaw clenched.

But in a split second, all of that was gone.

“There’s nothing in the fridge.” He nodded to the sub-zero appliance.

I rubbed my forehead, trying to focus. “Yeah, I um, haven’t gone grocery shopping. I eat out a lot. There’s a bakery that makes croissants that will change your life. They hide three behind the counter for me; they’re popular, and they’re kind of my thing for breakfast these days.”

Fiona—one of the owners of the bakery—had begun doing that when I started to show, and it became clear the croissants were important to me the one morning I arrived and they were sold out, and I almost burst into tears. Those croissants were my one little slice of joy in my lonely, scary new life.

Pathetic but true.

The women at the bakery—Nora, Fiona and Tina—had all been welcoming, had even offered multiple times to have me over for dinner as I was new in town and was obviously alone.

I’d politely refused every time, although part of me wanted to be part of the friendship—the family—they seemed to have. But a few things stopped me, those things being the two hulking, handsome husbands of the women who adored them. Adored them with a ferocity that was too hard to look at.

Reminding me too much of what I’d lost.

I’d put myself away, on my proverbial island, in this house, walking on the beach for hours with my dog, reading books, watching mindless television, trying to plan for a life I hadn’t expected. One as a single mother.

Kane was staring at me. He had been staring at me for a long time, while I’d been lost in thought. Brackets framing his mouth and the crease between his eyes told me he was worried.

I wondered how much of the last five months I’d shown on my face.

“Let’s go get you your croissant, then,” he said, although I was sure that wasn’t what he’d planned to say.

I nodded, not moving, still staring at him. Blanche ran up to me, puffing and tongue wagging, nuzzling her face into my hand. Kane had obviously taken her on the run with him.

“First, you walking her alone is no longer happening,” Kane motioned to Blanche. “You want to walk, we’ll do it together. You’re not getting pulled by her in your condition.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he wasn’t done.

“As much as I enjoy the sight, you’re gonna have to change into something different to go to the bakery,” Kane waved to my clothing. “I’ll need a shower too, but you can go first if you need one.”

He was offering practical solutions to get ready for the day. Except that wasn’t Kane. He wasn’t about practicality. If we weretogether and needed a shower, we did it together. He carried me there, my legs wrapped around his hips, his mouth on mine.

Sure, such a thing wouldn’t be practical given my overall size. But the shower off my bedroom was plenty large enough for both of us. Though small, the entire cottage had been renovated by someone with sense. The kitchen was big, and the bathrooms were all big enough for walk-in showers, full tubs and double sinks. Not that I thought I’d need the double sinks.

And maybe I wouldn’t, since it was possible that Kane would never want to do something as benign and intimate as brush his teeth next to me again.

“I’ll go first,” I said, trying to digest everything.

I turned quickly so he wouldn’t see my eyes well up.

“Chef.”

I stopped, taking a breath to clear my expression before I turned.

Kane was standing in the same position, his eyes locked on mine.

He lifted two of his fingers to his lips then tapped against them.

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