Love.
I jumped from the couch - like I could escape the word -and hurried to the kitchen.
The coffee maker had finally wheezed to a stop. I opened the cupboard above and pulled down two mugs.
Then I wondered what I was doing.
Even though they were bought with my voice, there were a lot of things in our apartment I wasn’t allowed to touch. And Killian’s morning coffee was one of them.
I’d never poured a mug for him. I’d never even wanted to. Even if I tried, he'd probably criticize me for not putting in the right amount of cream or sugar.
I glanced out the window. Even if I messed it up - even if I made it the wrong way - I couldn’t imagine Derek being anything other than grateful that I’d tried.
I took a deep breath, and then walked his mug over to the door and opened it wide. "Hey!" I called over the sound of the shovel. "You want something to warm up?"
Derek looked like the abominable snowman. Icicles hung from his shaggy head, and his jeans were completely crusted in snow. He exhaled in a great cloud, and then shoved his shovel into the snow bank. Peeling off his gloves, he made a beeline towards me. "You’re a saint,“ he said, cupping his reddened hands around the mug.
I waited for a second, but he said nothing about the way I prepared it - whether it was too strong, or too weak, too much sugar, or not enough. He just took a sip and sighed. "Thanks.”
“You're welcome.” There was no way I could put into words when I was feeling right now, so I just stood on my tiptoes to kiss him.
He caught me up in his arms, and the snow that clung to his jacket brushed freezing cold against my skin. I squealed, and he laughed, trapping me against him while he covered my cheeks nose and neck with frozen kisses.
“Aren’t you supposed to be caretaking?” I squealed.
“I needed to take a break anyway.”
“Is it hard work?”
“It’s heavy, that’s for sure.” He knelt down and packed a snow ball in his bare hands. “Wet stuff.” He looked up and caught me chewing on my lip. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I looked away for a minute, then decided not to lie to him. “I keep thinking about my parents.”
He stood back up.
“Weird, huh? Like, there had to be some really major winter storms in the ten years I was gone. But Dad is going to be eighty this year and…” I trailed off, unsure what I was getting at.
“You’re worried about how they’re handling it?”
I nodded forlornly. “But it’s not like I can find out, right? ‘Oh hey Mom, just calling for the first time in ten years to find out if you’re okay after the storm. Oh, how do I know about it? Because I’m in town again and living up at Grandpa’s, tata!’” I mimed hanging up a phone. “That’s not gonna work.”
“What do you want to do?”
“What do you think I should do?”
He shook his head. “No way I can make that call for you, babe. I’m not even going to try.” He leaned in to kiss my cheek. “Why don’t you think on it while I grab a shower?”
The last thing I wanted to do was think on it. “Want some company?”
“Hm, the idea is appealing. But I’m all sweaty and gross right now.”
I pouted. “What if I like you sweaty and gross?”
He grinned and kissed me again. “Let’s be together for more than one day before I’m ready to be foul in front of you.”
My heart caught in my throat. “Are we together?”
“Well you can do whatever you want I guess, but I’m not gonna lie. I’m pretty fucking gone for you, Aria Jane.”
I hid my gasp of pleasure behind another sip of coffee. I watched him as he stripped his snowy clothes and shed them like a snake sheds its skin. “Don’t be long, foul-man,” I called after him, appreciating the sculpted view of his ass.
“I’m only slow when it counts,” he called back from the bathroom.
Desire flooded my body and I sagged back against the wall…
Only to feel it move against my back.
“What the hell?” I looked up at the track. For once, the sliding panels were swinging freely. The padlock was missing and the huge, old-fashioned iron latch was just hanging there. Beckoning me.
I pressed my ear up against the panel and heard a faint electric hum.
All at once, my mind flashed back to yesterday morning.
And the mysterious package Derek handed the man in the Beemer.
Was the answer behind this wall? He’d asked me to trust him, and snooping around his house was the opposite of trust. But if he wanted me to trust him, then he needed to stop it with all the secrets. If we were really together, like he said…
I rocked back on my heels. Did I trust him? I wanted to. I was falling head over heels for him… but I’d fallen before. This time… this time I wanted to go into it with my eyes open. I wanted to believe what Derek told me, but I also didn’t want to blind myself to the truth of his actions.
Words vs actions. Wasn’t that what it came down to? Could I really believe what he said to me when his actions pointed to something else?
I lifted the latch. The door slid easily, without creaking. It was obviously well cared for and used often.
I squeezed through the opening and slid quietly into the hidden room.
My heart started to race.