Page 37 of Lochlan

The fabric barely covers her bottom, exposing her long legs, and I have to feign attention to the saucepan to avoid observing her unabashed. “You'll have some cocoa with me before you go to bed. It'll relax you enough to sleep in a strange bed. Seat yourself at the table and I'll bring the mugs over.”

She complies without protest, seating herself at the table with hands folded. The chocolate-flavored milk steams in the mugs as I set them on the table. “I'm assuming you like cocoa?”

She studies the mug, then grips the handle. “Sorry for the inconvenience. I would've gone to a hotel, but the truth is I don't have the money, so I appreciate your hospitality.”

I guessed that she might not have the funds. I'd have paid the bill if she decided to go to a hotel. “What kind of employer would I be if I left you sitting on your doorstep until the next day?”

She gets the awkward joke and gives me a faint smile before she raises the mug to her lips. Ripples form on the chocolate surface as she briefly blows to cool the liquid. “I do like cocoa. When I was sick, making hot chocolate for me was part of Mom's care routine. She'd float giant toasted marshmallows on top. I'd try to get a bite of marshmallow with a sip of chocolate and end up with a chocolate mustache and a dollop of marshmallow on my nose.” She sighs. “Cocoa is a childhood memory that makes me feel warm and loved even when I make it for myself.”

Watching Kenzie recall a child's memory is enough to warm anyone, but I can't relate to the story. I've no caring mother memories, not even a caring nanny one. I'm struggling with the yawn-inducing niceties of this conversation. She expects me to be supportive, so I try for once not to live up to expectations of being a prick.

“Maybe we should update your hot chocolate to an adult version. I don't have marshmallows, but I have something that will complement the chocolate.” I find the bottle of whiskey that Geordie left and cap off both our beverages with a healthy dose, and for the first time since I've met Kenzie, she gives me a brilliant smile.

We talk until I drain the last of the cold liquid from the bottom of my mug. It's been a long conversation without awkwardness. She stifles a yawn, and I pick up the mugs and place them in the sink. “You've had your cocoa, lass. It's time you're in bed. We'll sort out your locksmith problem in the morning.”

“Thank you again,” she says, then disappears behind the screen. Even though she's a few feet away behind a thin barrier, it feels as if she's abandoned me, as emptiness descends even as I undress, slip the blanket over myself, and lay my head on the pillow.

* * *

There'swater running in the distance, the aroma of fresh coffee, and a wooden spoon stirring in a saucepan. I raise my head from slumber and squint at the sight in my kitchen. A woman is there, her back to me, and she’s dressed in my shirt. During a few moments of grogginess, I wonder who this woman is and swear under my breath at my recklessness until I remember Kenzie was here with me last night. I sit up, the blanket falling to my lap.

She turns to me and chuckles. “Do you know you sleep like the dead? I've been moving around this kitchen for at least thirty minutes before you stirred.”

“I have no answer for that. I can't help it if I sleep like an angel.”

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes to heaven in a display of relaxed intimacy. “Since you took care of dinner and that chocolatey nightcap, I thought I would make you breakfast. You must be a light eater, because there's not much in this kitchen to work with.”

“Most days, my intention is to have breakfast and when I do, it's oats. Normally I skip it because I like the steel cut and it takes a long time to cook. I see you got the coffeemaker to function. I never took the time to figure out how it works. Maybe you'll show me later how you accomplished that feat.”

She waves a dismissive spoon at me. “Your breakfast will be ready in another ten minutes. Get dressed. I can only stir this for so long before it congeals.”

“Right,” I say, standing with the blanket about my hips. Her eyes widen at my bare chest and I notice some interest, but they don't linger because she brings her attention back to her stirring.

There's an ungodly banging at the door that jolts me out of this domestic peace. “Lochlan, have you overslept and forgotten our meeting?” Geordie shouts at the door.

“St. Andrew’s balls, what time is it?” I don't wait for an answer from Kenzie. The sound is threatening and I stride towards it. I yank the door open to Geordie's fist, poised to strike the frame into submission.

He lowers his meaty hand, relieved that I'm here. “Ah, I thought you were dead, cousin. You never miss a meeting. When you didn't show up after an hour...” He sniffs the air, as if he's trying to ferret out a scent, then looks past me into the kitchen. There's a quick frown, and he shakes his head. “Good morning, lass,” Geordie bellows, pushing his way into the room. “I see you have breakfast on. Is that oats you're stirring?”

“There's enough for two; would you like a bowl? I only drink coffee in the morning. Would you like a splash of milk with that?”

“Aye, please.” He turns to me. “Stop your gaping, man, and put some clothes on before you come to the table.”

I'm not happy Geordie's issuing orders or that I'm standing in my living room with only a wee blanket to shield my manhood. There's nothing to do but to slip behind the screen to grab some clothes, then head for the bathroom.

Kenzie and Geordie laugh like old friends when I return. Geordie wipes a tear from his eye. “Kenzie's been telling me the sad tale of being locked out of her apartment last night and the chivalrous offer of your bed while you slept on the couch.”

“It was too late to find anyone here who might help. I thought someone in maintenance could recommend a locksmith this morning,” I say.

“I'll ask George, our general fix-it man. He might know someone if he can't do it himself.”

“If you'll excuse me,” Kenzie says as she rises to her feet. “I'm going to change and call my apartment again, and I'll let you know what they say.”

We both watch her backside before she disappears behind the barrier.

Geordie gets to his feet, addressing the screen. “Thank you, Kenzie, for breakfast. Let me know if you need my help.”

Kenzie pokes her head around the screen with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Geordie, that's sweet of you to offer.”

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