Page 9 of Kiss Across the Universe
“You didn’t answer mine,” she pointed out.
He didn’t respond to that. His glance shifted toward the kitchen once more.
“Someone stuck you with kitchen chores,” she guessed.
He shook his head. “I thought I should help out.”
“Like you did with Jesse’s kids?”
“You’d rather I sit in a corner with a glass in my hand and watch everyone else rush around?” He didn’t sound affronted. Instead, he raised a single thick brow.
Alannah didn’t know what to say, and shealwaysknew what to say. It was why CEOs of production companies wanted her to work for them. She always said the right thing to the right people.
But Kit McDonald had left her speechless, which was flat out ridiculous. It wasn’t as though he had insulted her. She’d been insulted by the best and knew a dozen ways to respond that didn’t strip away her pride, or piss off the star who’d insulted her.
Kit’s question was innocuous, yet she stood there casting about for something to say in response and couldn’t think of a damn thing. Instead, her gaze was caught by the raised brow. She realized she was studying his face, something she’d not really done before. Kit was her parents’ friend and she’d only ever been polite to him. She couldn’t remember talking to him directly before, except for the most superficial exchanges.
She was aware of time ticking on, while she didn’t-quite-gawp at him and failed to respond. He would think her rude, or worse, an obnoxious daughter.
But he took a half-step toward the bottom of the step she stood upon. Then he did something utterly unexpected.
He pressed the tip of one long finger between her brows. “There has been a crease there since you arrived.” His voice reverberated, low and musical. “It is still there now.”
His fingertip was warm and surprisingly soft. From the sleeve of his jacket, his scent rose. It wasn’t cologne or one of the obnoxious deodorants that men seemed to think were desirable. It was just nice, clean, male scent.
Alannah’s heart picked up speed. She grew aware of it beating in her chest, at the same time her gut seemed to fill with warmth.
She couldn’t take a step back. Only up the stairs. But before she could do that, he dropped his hand. He studied her with complete calm. His eyes were utterly black, but completely unlike Brody’s or Aran’s…or hers, she supposed.
“What happened to put that there?” he asked. “Something bad happened. You have the sort of strength to shrug off anything trivial.”
She stared at him, astonished. This time she wasn’t speechless. This time, she couldn’t pick from among the dozens of questions that occurred to her. She didn’t doubt him—the touch of his fingertip had drawn her attention to the taut muscles drawing her brows closer together, forming the furrow. She tried to let them relax, but they were tight with tension.
He’d noticed the furrow. A tiny detail, that he’d spotted the moment he’d seen her. And she had thought he was occupied with the babies and the toddlers.
Why are you watching me so closely? That was one of the questions she wanted to ask, but couldn’t, because she wasn’t sure hewaswatching her closely. Only, he’d noticed the furrow. Her mother had not.
Why do you think it’s any of your business?That was another question she couldn’t ask. It was too confrontational. She’d given up being confrontational and direct, years ago.
Why did you touch me? The whisper sighed through her. Her heart was still thudding heavily, too.
Why are you suddenly talking about real stuff, and not the weather or the salmon you just caught? For that had been the sum total of topics he’d ever spoken to her about.
Who are you? That question hovered on the tip of her tongue because she suddenly felt as though she didn’t know Kit at all. And she had thought she had him pegged. A homegrown Canadian. A boony who would never leave the mountains.
How do you know so much about me? That question was louder than all the rest, because his question had touched upon the hard knot in her chest and belly. And she could feel herself unravelling, all the control she had been using all week flying out the window.
Alannah didn’t make the decision to sit down. She just found herself perched upon one of the steps. She gripped her hands together tightly, as the scared little wail built in her. She kept her gaze upon her white knuckles, because she couldn’t look at him while she said it. She shouldn’t be saying it at all, but it emerged from her like a hot geyser, under high pressure because it had been building in her all week.
“I was fired last weekend.” Her voice was strained. “I figured I would find another job in a day or two. But it’s been a week, and no one is returning my calls.”
Silence.
Alannah kept her gaze on her hands, appalled at her lack of discretion. If she was going to tell anyone at all about this, it would have been Aran. Or her parents. But probably Aran, who understood so much without her having to explain.
What was she doing spilling her guts to a friend of the family she’d never had a decent conversation with before? “Sorry. It’s a downer subject.” This time, her voice was even more strained as she forced a peppy tone into it. “Forget I spoke.”
She saw his feet shift. Heavy work boots, with super grip soles, good for walking in snow.
