Page 44 of Sugar Coated

“Well, it’s you, so I can’t be too mad.” His dark eyes scrutinized me. “Mike said you wanted to talk to me before we leave. What is it? I hope it’s something no one else shouldoverhear. Something inappropriate and not becoming of a step-niece and step-uncle, perhaps?”

The words just didn’t want to come out. For whatever reason, talking to Kieran about this was the hardest thing I’d had to do in a while. “It’s, um, about the shooting.”

His good mood faltered, and his grin faded just like that. “What about it? It’s not something I like reliving, so if I don’t have to think about it, I try not to.” That made sense. I couldn’t blame him for feeling like that, and it brought to mind the talk we had before, when he told me he would’ve rather died than see me get hurt.

My next words tumbled out in a rush: “The shooter wasn’t aiming at me. He was aiming at you.”

To his credit, Kieran didn’t appear shocked. The only thing he did was blink at me as what I’d said sank in. “Me, huh? And how—how do you know he was aiming at me and not at you?” He tripped over his words, a very unusual thing on his part, which clued me in to the fact that he had no idea.

“It’s a long story. I can tell you later. There’s not really time now, but… I just wanted you to know that someone is after you, too. Not just me.”

“Laina—”

I stopped him by taking a teeny, tiny step toward him. Less than eight or so inches between us, now. He was so close to me I could smell his musky scent, and it made me want to lean in to him and breathe him in. “I mean it. I lost my mind when you got hurt. It was bad enough when I thought it was all for me, but now that I know he was aiming at you… I can’t lose you, Kieran.”

He lifted a hand, and before I knew what he was doing, he was running his fingertips down along my jaw, a tender touch that made my heart skip a beat. “You won’t,” he whispered. “Nothing in this world could ever take me from you.”

Unless I was seeing things, I was pretty sure he glanced at my lips when he said that, and I was struck right then by how badly I wanted to kiss him again. It’d been… God, I couldn’t even remember how long. Too long. So long it might as well have been an eternity.

When did things get so confusing between us? When did things change?

Kieran dropped his hand, but he didn’t step away. “Is that it? There’s nothing else you want to say?”

There was a lot I could’ve said, a lot I wanted to tell him, but I had the feeling he wasn’t asking about how I knew the shooter was after him. He wanted me to tell him he was more than a step-uncle to me. He wanted me to confess my feelings for him.

But now wasn’t a good time. Kieran and Mike weren’t the only ones who could push their feelings off; I could, too. Right now we had a party to get to.

Excuse me, a charity dinner.

“That’s all for now,” I told him, and I hated the instant look of disappointment he sent me.

“Okay, well, I guess we should head on out before my sister starts to think you kidnapped me or something.” A joking comment, meant to break the ice, so I gave him a smile and let him lead me out of the house and to the idling car waiting near the front door. Mike was following us in his own vehicle.

Kieran held open the back door of the car for me, letting me slide in first. He ducked his head and got in beside me, saying, “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Everything okay?” my dad asked, his eyes on me in the rearview mirror.

All I did was smile and say, “Yep.” And that was that. My dad didn’t ask any more questions.

As we drove away from the house, my mind swirled. Kieran’s choice of words was ironic. He had no idea there was a secondkidnapping attempt, and it was from that failed attempt that I found out someone was after him, the same woman who was after me.

The charity dinner was being held in some building called the Klinton—it had a wide ballroom where the tables were already set up, along with a donation station. Dinner wasn’t until seven, which seemed ridiculously late since the party began at five-thirty, but there were drinks and small finger foods aplenty on silver trays constantly being brought out to a different room that was all dark wood and moody atmosphere. That’s where everyone gathered; it’s where my dad and Tessa waited and greeted everyone as they showed up. Guards stationed on the outside of the building only let in those who were on the list.

It was all very pompous and wasteful, if you asked me. If you really gave a shit about charity, why not just make the donation and move on with your life? Why bother throwing a party at all?

I knew why my dad and Tessa were so adamant about the party, though. They wanted to show the city that our family was still standing—pictures were being taken all the time, my dad and Tessa posing with any high-profile person that came. Kieran and I had to fake smiles for some photographs, too.

I was only able to sneak away from the constant smiles and cameras when I saw Fang waltz in. He didn’t wear a suit, but he did wear a silky black button-down neatly tucked into dark pants. I grinned when I saw him, and I zigzagged through the room, avoiding the gathered groups of people I didn’t know while also dodging the waiters that buzzed to and fro—all under the watchful eyes of Mike, of course. The man stood near the door to the room, overseeing everyone who walked in.

“You made it,” I said, fighting my urge to throw my arms around his neck and bring him down for a kiss. As it was, everyone nearby kept throwing glances in his direction; it was obvious he wasn’t a well-to-do person in this city.

Fang flashed his silver canines at me. “Of course I did. You invited me, and so I’m here. I told you I wanted to get out more.” His eyes seemed to shimmer as he looked me up and down. “You look—”

“Not like cotton candy, I know.”

He smirked. “No, but still just as delicious as always.” He was going to say more, but right then someone else approached us from behind me; his expression changed from sly and mischievous to warm and serious, and when I turned around I realized why.

It was my dad. He abandoned Tessa and Kieran, leaving them to talk to a pair of older people themselves, to come over here and check out my invite. “You must be Fang,” he said, offering him a hand. “I’m Vance Hawkins—the mayor, and Laina’s father.”

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