Kim returned to her tiny apartment but she couldn't settle. She tried to read, but the words swam in front of her eyes and she reread the same paragraph so many times that eventually she gave up. She flipped on the television and soon flipped it off again. Finally, she did what she always did when she was troubled or couldn't sleep—she baked.
Around three a.m. she was startled by a knock on her door. This was supposed to be a secure building but most of the time the front door was unlocked. Hidden Falls was a small town and it seemed very safe but still she put her eye to the peephole. Her eyes widened but that didn't change who was on the other side of her door. James.
She opened it saying eagerly, "Any news?"
She could tell right away that he had good news for he couldn't seem to keep the smile off his face. "Mom and babies are both safe. It's a boy," he paused for dramatic effect "and it's a girl! I know it’s the middle of the night, but I saw your light on. I’m so wired, I had to tell someone."
Her eyes filled with foolish tears. "Oh my gosh, I'm so glad everybody's okay. How was the birth?"
He shook his head. "If you want the gory details, you'll have to ask her yourself. I've been to triple murder scenes that didn't freak me out as much as what Iris has been through." He stood there, looking solid and yummy in jeans and a plaid shirt. His face was stubbled and there were circles under his eyes but he was obviously filled with energy. "I hope you don’t mind me stopping by so late."
"No. I’ve been wondering who I could call for an update. Thank you."
They stood staring at each other stupidly for a minute and then he said, "It smells great in here. Have you been baking?"
She lifted her flour-streaked hands helplessly. “It's what I do when I'm nervous. You want to come in? I have fresh muffins. I can put on some coffee." She checked the wall clock. “I have to head for the bakery in about an hour anyway. I could use some coffee.”
"Yeah. That would be good." He walked in and shut the door behind him. She measured out coffee, water, keeping her hands busy while she was acutely aware of him.
He said, "You must've been very nervous." As she glanced behind her shoulder she understood what he meant. She had baked a lot. Two kinds of muffins, a stack of peanut butter cookies, and another of chocolate chip, which she’d done on autopilot because their homey scents always calmed her. Two loaves of whole grain bread hulked on a cooling rack and a pie oozed purple through its lattice crust.
"Are those Iris’s morning glory muffins?" he asked.
“No. They’re my own recipe. Give them a try and tell me what you think."
The coffee began to bubble and gurgle behind her, putting one more delicious smell into the room. James did not wait for his coffee, he reached for one of the muffins and ripped it cleanly in half, releasing a puff of steam.
"Butter’s in the pottery dish beside you," she said sliding open the cutlery drawer and passing him a knife.
He shook his head and then bit into the muffin. He ate the way he seemed to do everything, cleanly, efficiently, with no wasted movements. When he'd swallowed the first bite he said, "this is delicious. I love Iris’s morning glory muffins but I have to tell you, this is every bit as good."
She felt as pleased as if she'd won the blue ribbon in a baking contest. "Glad you like them."
He glanced at her curiously. "You sound as though my opinion matters."
She placed a small white plate in front of him and one in front of herself, added blue cloth napkins. "Being a baker must be the ultimate occupation for a pleaser," she admitted.
His gaze was quietly intense. "Are you a pleaser?"
There was no particular intonation to his words, but still she felt them dance intimately across her skin. She imagined what it would feel like to please him and to let him pleasure her.
She crossed to the coffee machine so she wouldn’t have to face him when she answered. She took her time pouring coffee into white mugs as she said, “I want people to enjoy the foods I bake. I hate conflict and get nervous when anyone’s angry with me, so I guess that defines me as a pleaser.”
“Do people get angry with you very often?”
She didn’t ask him if he wanted milk in his coffee, but dug a carton out of the fridge, poured milk into a pitcher and put it, with the matching sugar bowl, on the counter beside him. “Not so much. Not anymore.”
“Did someone used to be angry with you?” He said the words gently, but she wasn’t going down this road. Not with him. Not now.
“Is this a friendly visit or an interrogation?”
He poured milk into his coffee and, to her surprise, added two heaping spoons of sugar. As he stirred his coffee he said, “Maybe you’re not as bad at conflict as you think.”
She added a much smaller amount of both sugar and milk to her coffee and reached for one of the muffins. “Tell me about the babies.”
He looked at her for a long second, then, obviously accepting that she was going to avoid his question, he pulled out his phone. “Don’t worry, there’s no birthing video on here. Only some pictures of Mom and the babies. My niece and nephew. I can’t get over it.”
He fiddled with the phone and then moved to sit beside her, so close she could smell the clean, masculine smell of him. Feel the warmth coming off his muscular arm as he leaned in to share the small screen with her. For a second her senses were too addled to focus, and then she did and let out a small sound of happiness. “Oh, look at them. They’re so small and so perfect.”
Two little squished faces stared out from under impossibly tiny cotton caps, one blue and one pink. “Are they all right? Not too small? Are their lungs developed enough to be outside?”
“You sound like Rose!” He flipped to the next photo, Geoff holding their daughter and a tired but very happy looking Iris holding their son. “Everything’s great. They’re a little on the small side, which I’m told is typical for twins. One’s five pounds and one’s a little less. The lungs are fine. All that bed rest paid off.”
“I’m so glad. Have they got names yet?” Geoff and Iris had pored through baby naming books and come up with and rejected hundreds of boy and girl names.
“I think they’ve settled on Mia Daphne for the girl and Liam John, for the boy, for both the grandfathers.”
“Oh, those are beautiful names.”
She turned and found him so close she could see a small scar across one eyebrow that she’d never noticed before. It fascinated her. Where had he got it? How many stitches? Was it a work injury?
So close she could lean over and kiss him without any effort at all. The atmosphere changed and she knew he’d read her mind or come to the same thought independently. Her lips began to tingle and she felt her pulse kick up. He leaned in a fraction and then all the reasons why this was a terrible idea rushed at her. She pulled back. “How did you get that scar?” she asked, as though she’d been thinking of that and not how his mouth would feel against hers. How much she wanted to wrap herself in his warmth and strength and simple goodness. “The one on your eyebrow.”
He blinked. Once. And then raised a hand to the old wound as though he’d forgotten it was there. “It was a twin thing. Something Iris and Geoff are going to have to get used to. Josh and I were both on the swim team in high school. He was a way better swimmer than I was, but we were competitive about everything. Except girls, obviously, since he’s gay. Anyway, we had a race.”
He grinned in memory. “I was not being a good sport, trying to elbow him and kick him underwater and generally acting like an ass. He took it for a while and then finally came right into my lane and we got into it. Both nearly drowned before I hit my head on the pool edge, which broke my goggles, which cut my eyebrow. There was blood all over the place, very dramatic. The fight drew a small crowd of classmates. A couple of them dragged me out of the water, with Josh pushing from below and this girl, Kelly McCutcheon, who’d recently finished her lifeguard training, insisted on giving me the kiss of life.” He scratched his stubbled jaw. “I was breathing fine, but she kissed me anyway. For quite a long time. I think we dated for three months, which is an eternity in high school.”
She smiled at the story and definitely understood where Kelly McCutcheon was coming from. “Did you need stitches?”
“Oh, yeah. I looked pretty gruesome for a couple of weeks. Josh walked around like he was Rocky himself and Kelly spent a lot of time kissing me better.”
She shook her head at him. “You were lucky you didn’t lose an eye.”
“It’s amazing what kids get away with. How about you? You must have some good high school stories from Canada. Were you on the hockey team?”
She shook her head.
“Ski team?”
“No.”
“Dog sled team?”
“Canada is not an Arctic wasteland, you know.”
“I know. So, you must have been on some school team.”
“I was homeschooled.” She glanced at the clock. “And I have to get ready for work.”
He grabbed a peanut butter cookie as he stood up. “You know, Iris never starts this early.”
“I know, but I’m making something special this morning. To celebrate. The way gossip flies in this town, we’ll be packed with customers wanting to share her good news. Your sister has gone through labor and birthed two babies. I figure she should profit off the gossip.” She had an idea. “Can you print off a cute baby picture and bring it to Sunflower? I’ll pin it up on the wall.”
“Sure. Happy to be of service.”
She packed him a goodie bag of cookies and muffins telling him to take them to work with him. “Remember, Connie loves chocolate. Make sure she gets some chocolate chip cookies.”
As he was leaving, he said, “You know, Iris made a good choice when she hired you.”
After the suspicious way he’d treated her she was flattered. “So, you don’t think I’m here to cause trouble?”
His eyes grew intense on hers. “Oh, you are definitely trouble,” and then, before she even saw it coming, his mouth slammed down on hers in a take-no-prisoners kiss that was as intense as it was brief.
He raised his head and when their gazes connected she could not pull away. She read his intent even as he came closer and still she did nothing to stop the inevitable. She made a tiny sound of acceptance in her throat. And when he pulled her back into his arms, she felt such a tsunami of desire that her feelings rocked her to her toes. Why? Why of all men did it have to be a cop she had this intense reaction to? She’d tried to fight her wild attraction, but it was hopeless. As he pulled her tight against him and she felt all the hard planes and angles of his body and the way her own softness yielded, she let herself go.
She was always so careful, always on the run, never letting anyone get too close. But since she had arrived in Hidden Falls, it seemed as though all her careful defenses were being knocked down, one by one.
She’d accepted friendship, told secrets that no one but her own family knew, opened herself up in so many ways, but this? Falling for the town sheriff? This had to be the stupidest thing she'd ever done. But, even as she understood how stupid it was, she still pressed herself against James.
While his mouth was busy on hers, exciting, teasing, drawing out helpless sounds from deep in her throat, his hands were busy touching, teasing, exciting. Her hands were just as busy. She loved the hard angles and tight muscles. She felt oddly safe in his arms. James was a born protector. For a woman who had been on her own and frightened for so long, a strong, protective man seemed deceptively good. Of course, in her head, she understood that he was the most dangerous man she could know, but her body didn't respond that way.
She slid her hands under his shirt needing to feel his warm, naked skin. Knowing, that this time, there was no going back.
She began to yank his T-shirt upwards and then his hands joined hers and helped pull the shirt over his head. She buried her lips in the closest part of his chest that she could reach, which was the dip in his collarbone above where the strong musculature of his chest was covered by exactly the right amount of dark brown chest hair.
While she was busy exploring the contours of his chest with mouth and hands he was busily helping her out of her shirt. And then he had her bra off with a deftness that surprised her. She barely felt the back give and then her bra was gone, exposing her. Had she ever been this aroused? She didn't think so.
Desire licked at her so she could barely draw breath. Their jeans were next. They tugged and grabbed and dragged without any care or finesse. She throbbed with need and from the intense look in his eyes, and the very impressive erection nudging at her, she knew he felt the same. Before she realized what had happened, she was standing naked with him in her own kitchen. The bedroom was too impossibly far, she knew her legs would never carry her there. So she pressed herself against him, kissing his mouth even as she reached down and wrapped her hand around him. He groaned. And then lifting her by her hips hoisted her to the counter. The old laminate felt cool under her hot flesh.
He feasted on her mouth, and then kissed his way down to her breasts. While he lavished his mouth on the sensitive peaks he slipped a hand between her legs. She was so wet, so hot, just his touch on her sensitive flesh had her squirming and moaning. She grabbed his shoulders. "Need you. In me." She managed.
She thought that he scooped up his discarded jeans with his foot and tossed them in the air before grabbing them and digging out a condom. She was happy for his foresight since she did not keep condoms in her apartment. She’d fantasized about being with James and then told herself all the reasons why it would never happen.
"You sure you're ready?" he panted, coming close so that his hardness was pressed against her.
"Oh, I am more than ready," she whispered back.
He did not need any more encouragement. Tightening his grip on her hips he pushed slowly into her. She felt the slow, easy slide, as his body joined with hers. She wrapped her legs around his hips and gave herself over to the sensations as they danced to an ancient rhythm. She ground herself against him, and then she felt her whole body clench around him as fireworks seemed to go off behind her eyelids. Her head fell back as the spasms shook her. In the echo of her own cries she heard him give a heartfelt groan and then shudder as he spilled himself inside her.
As their breath began to head back to normal he said, "I can't believe we didn't even make it to the bedroom."
She looked at him through half closed eyes. "I always do my best work in the kitchen."