Chapter 13

Veterinarian Clinic

Saturday, 10:15 p.m.

Twenty-four hours later, Emma had replenished the punch ingredients and was standing next to Molly watching Sadie’s shower guests move around the room.

“Sadie knows all these people?”

“Yes,” Molly’s voice lowered to a whisper, “but that doesn’t mean she likes all of them.”

“What?” Emma laughed. “She wanted them at her party … but doesn’t like them? Then why?”

“To keep peace.”

Emma poured a cup of punch and handed it to Molly. “That makes no sense.”

“I didn’t think so either when I first moved to Swan Harbor.” Molly pointed to a cluster of women standing off to the side of the room. “See the one with dark hair. That’s Chloe Lane. Her brother is married to one of Sadie’s best friends.”

“Ahh. A tangled web.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Molly took a sip of the strawberry punch and hummed, “Hey, this is good.”

“Thanks,” Emma followed suit and agreed. “I’m just glad I was able to pick up more punch supplies this afternoon, and there was no emergency. The strawberry smell seems to be lingering downstairs.”

“Strawberry smell?” Molly frowned. “What happened?”

“Yesterday, when I ran to take care of Wilby, the bags with the punch ingredients were left on a table. I should have taken the time to put them in the refrigerator.” Emma chuckled at her blunder, “Let’s just say, who knew how much fun melted sherbet, fruit punch, 7-up and strawberries could be for fifteen rambunctious kittens.

“Oh, no!” Molly giggled. “What a mess!”

“Now, it’s funny.” Emma laughed. “But when I first walked into the room and saw it, oh my …” She went on not considering the repercussions of her words, “Killian was a big help. Poor guy had claw marks all over him from bathing the kittens.”

“Killian?” Molly’s brows rose. “Killian was here?”

When her friend’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and she mentioned Killian’s name twice in one sentence, Emma wanted to withdraw her comment. “He just stopped by to help, that’s all.”

“Oh, ho ho,” Molly’s smile grew even bigger.

“It’s not an oh ho ho,” Emma protested. “He’s just a friend.”

Molly continued to grin, but besides humming, remained silent.

“You’re making this way bigger than it is. And,” Emma grumbled, “you sound just like my friend Elsa.”

“I need to talk to your friend, “Molly teased, “and tell her all about our Killian Reade.”

“Oh, Elsa probably knows more about him than you do,” Emma muttered. “After all, she’s dating his brother.”

“What!” Molly grabbed hold of Emma’s arm. “This, I didn’t know. So …”

“So?” Emma shrugged, determined not to say too much, because she hadn’t even figured out what was going on. But the fact that Molly didn’t know was interesting, as it meant Killian hadn’t shared what had happened with Dylan. Why was that?

“Come on,” Molly tried wheedling, “give me some details.”

Emma glanced sideways at her friend and pressed her lips together to stop the smile that was threatening to bloom.

“Come on, Emma,” Molly continued to push. “You were in New York. Killian was in New York. You see where I’m going?”

“You really don’t know?” Emma asked, instead of answering directly.

“Was it soooo” Molly stretched out the word, “good you’re afraid to say something that reveals too much?”

“I saw him at a dance on New Year’s Eve,” Emma admitted in a rush.

“You spent New Year’s Eve,” Molly began before her attention suddenly shifted over Emma’s shoulder, and she quickly changed the subject. “Belle, have you met Emma?”

As soon as she heard the woman’s name, Emma remembered the incident she’d eavesdropped on at Rene’s house in December. Killian had called another woman Emma. Was this the Belle, they’d been talking about?

“No, I haven’t.” Belle’s blue eyes clashed with Emma’s.

“Emma Foster,” she held her hand out, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Belle shook Emma’s hand, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Molly asked about a book for her first-grade class. When Belle immediately jumped into the conversation, Emma sighed with relief and subtly put a bit of distance between them.

While the other two were talking, she found herself unobtrusively studying the newcomer. Belle seemed nervous, but that was understandable. What must have gone through her head when Killian called her by someone else’s name? And then to have to meet that person face to face had to have been awful.

Whatever we become is up to you as much as it’s up to me.

Killian’s words had played in her head several times since he’d left the evening before. Especially since his departure had been rather abrupt. What to make of that, she wasn’t sure.

He was uncomfortable when you saw his chest.

And what a chest it was!

The thought of his flat stomach, defined pectoral muscles shielded by a light covering of black hair still had the power to make her hot.

“Thanks Belle. I’ll be by Monday for that book.

“Emma”

Molly’s voice effectively shattered her daydream. “Yes?”

“What were you thinking about just now?” Molly studied her carefully. “Your face is quite red.”

“N-nothing,” Emma forced out, hoping Molly would allow the subject to change. “That was a little strange. But who’s Belle talking to now? I don’t think I know her.”

“Oh, that’s Catherine,” Molly whispered. “She was dating Dylan before he and I got together.”

“You man-stealer!”

Molly shrugged, “The heart wants what it wants. Just like,” her voice lowered even more, “Killian’s.”

“Stop that,” Emma hushed her. “We’re friends.”

“Sure, you are,” Molly giggled. “Now, how about taking me to see my dog? I brought his blanket.”

With a quick look around to make sure they weren’t going to be missed, Emma led the way to where Wilby was lying in a cage, back leg in a shiny blue cast.

Molly tucked the old blanket around the dog and cooed at him for several minutes before turning impish eyes Emma’s direction, “Now that we’re away from Killian’s castoffs, spill.”

“I did feel a little like the proverbial doggie in the window up there.” A corner of Emma’s mouth ticked up at her reference to a childhood song.

Molly laughed, “I could see that, especially having Belle, Chloe, Tia, and Morgan all in one room. Sorry about that, but they’re just jealous.”

“But …” Emma began.

The other woman held up her hand, stopping the automatic denial that there was anything between her and Killian besides friendship. “Did you know Killian threw his black books away?” she tossed out in an off-handed manner.

“Books?” Emma’s brows shot up. “As in more than one?”

“Yep,” Molly confirmed. “He had four.”

“He threw them away? Why?”

“Don’t you know, Emma?” Molly replied softly. “It’s you. You’re the woman who’s taming the bad boy.”

That was the second person who’d hinted of that possibility. Why did that make her heart race in anticipation?

Emma pulled out her phone and showed Molly the picture Elsa had taken at the Ball. “Yes, I spent much of New Year’s Eve with Killian, and we danced.”

“Oh, Emma!” Molly exclaimed. “He’s enamored with you.”

Emma decided she would see if Molly could help her sort through her confusing thoughts and if not then she would call Elsa.

Sheriff’s Department, Monday 2:00 p.m.

The following Monday, Killian, Dylan, and Rusty were looking over a map of Swan Harbor, hoping to discover a pattern to the dog killer’s behavior. But no matter how long they studied the map, the streets, and the numbers, nothing was jumping out at them.

“It appears random.” Killian ran his fingers through his hair. “What are we missing?”

Dylan pointed to the map in order the animals were hit. “Think it could be a drunk driver going after dogs when on a bender?”

“With the exception of Wilby and Anita’s dog, most are within an easy drive of a bar,” Killian noted.

“True,” Dylan sighed, “and no one has seen anything?”

You saw taillights,” Killian reminded him, “that’s better than anyone else.”

“Well, keep looking. Surely, something will break for us soon,” Dylan grunted, stalking off to answer a call.

Killian certainly hoped so. It was unsettling to think someone was purposely targeting dogs. You never knew what to expect or who to suspect. It had him taking a second look at everyone. Because, in his line of work, quite often the guilty party was the person you least expected.

“You’re up, Reade.” Dylan slapped a note down in front of him. “Take your girlfriend.”

“My girlfriend?” Killian arched his brow. “Who said she was my girlfriend?”

“Emma and Killian sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

Killian glanced sideways at Emma, as they drove away from her clinic. She was quiet, almost too quiet. No teasing glances. No barbs tossed his way. Just perfunctory greetings with no extras. He hated it, and before they arrived at their destination, he was going to figure out what might have changed since he had seen her Friday night.

Saturday, while he’d been out with the boys, he knew the women were all attending a party for Sadie. But what could have happened there that created the divide between them?

“Emma?” he asked softly. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine. Why?”

Because you’re suddenly acting shy around me, he wanted to shout.

“How was Sadie’s party Saturday evening?”

“Fine.” She nodded once. “It was fine.”

What the hell does fine mean?

Then as pieces of his conversation with Gray, Dylan, Rusty, and a few others floated through his mind, he grew more frustrated.

“Who have you been fighting with?” Gray tapped the side of Killian’s hand where the remnants of kitten scratches remained.

Killian grinned, his evening in Emma’s company still in the front of his mind, “They’re nothing,” he brushed off the concern over his wounds, “just a few souvenirs from helping Emma bathe her naughty kittens last evening.”

“Oh, lucky you,” John Brown saluted him with his beer bottle, “I’d love to get a piece of that action.”

Killian was halfway out of his seat before he realized Dylan had jumped on the chance to say something to the other man.

“Thanks.” Killian glanced across the room to where John was leaning against the bar. “I would have punched him.”

“Our families go way back,” Dylan replied. “Now, about this ‘bathing naught kittens’ story?”

“Anyone tell you, you’re all like a bunch of old ladies?” Killian took a swig from his bottle, before offering, “No, I didn’t spend the night. We’re friends, alright?”

Three pairs of eyebrows rose simultaneously in disbelief. “The great Killian Reade is actually just friends with a woman?” Rusty quipped. “Will wonders never cease?”

“Cut it out,” Killian tossed back, “Emma’s not like that.”

“Our boy’s growing up,” Gray mock whispered to Rusty and Dylan.

“I’m right here,” Killian grunted.

“Sorry, Killian,” Gray grinned. “Just never thought I’d see the day when a woman would make you change your ways.”

Killian gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I guess it’s true what they say, ‘it just takes meeting the right woman to make you see the error of your ways.’ After all,” he let his eyes land on each of them, “you can’t tell me you were perfect before your women came along.”

It had served his purpose in getting the conversation off him for a while, allowing him to relax until later in the evening when Dylan cautioned,

“I hope Chloe, Belle or whoever else was listed in those books you tossed out doesn’t take it upon herself to give Emma the low down on your Don Juan ways.

Bloody hell! While his behavior in Swan Harbor hadn’t been as loose as most assumed, several women he had dated had been at the party. Had they said something to upset Emma?

Killian tapped his thumbs on his steering wheel, trying to decide on the best course of action.

Talk to her.

I’m trying, but she won’t talk to me.

Are you trying hard enough?

The turn to Peter Pan Park was on his right and without giving any warning, he swung his car into the closest lot. Emma sent him a quizzical look then quickly turned back to the window to watch a dog and its owner running on the track.

“Emma,” Killian slid his arm along the back of the seats, “look at me.”

She turned toward him, her gaze settling in the center of his chest. “Is this where we’re going?” Her eyes met his briefly before skittering away to focus on something outside the window.

“Emma,” he tucked a finger under her chin, and tilted her face, forcing her to look at him.

Gradually, her eyes traveled up to meet his and what he read in them was not what he’d expected. Not anger. Not disgust, but humor.

“Bloody hell, Doc.” he cried. “I thought you were pissed because of something you were told.”

“Oh?” she teased. “Who might have said something that would give me reasons to be pissed?”

He sent her a side-eye glance. “Someone from my past.” Killian settled back against the seat. “I know there were several women I’ve dated at Sadie’s party.”

Emma’s brows shot up. “Just women you’ve dated?”

Killian’s heart raced at her words, hoping her interest meant she cared. But the feelings and thoughts running through his head were foreign to him. In the past, if any woman asked questions, such as Emma had, he would have told her where to get off. This time, though, that wasn’t an option. She’d only been a part of his life for a few months. However, she was firmly entrenched in his heart and he couldn’t imagine that changing. His eyes met hers, “Emma, I …”

“Never mind,” Emma interrupted, “it’s none of my business.”

She’s protecting herself from something was the first thing that ran through his mind, when she stopped him from telling her anything about his past escapades. But was she protecting herself from what she assumed was the truth? Or was she worried he would ask her questions she wasn’t ready to answer about her own past?

Killian caught her left hand in his, the fingers of his right one gently running back and forth on her wrist. He could feel the racing of her pulse and couldn’t help but wonder if she was affected by his nearness.

“Emma,” he tried again, “you understood what I meant the other night when I said, ‘whatever we become is up to you as much as it was up to me,’ right?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“You also understood I want more with you, right?”

Her smile was shy, and her gaze dropped to the middle of his chest, before moving back up to meet his once again. “I get that, but I …”

She slid her tongue across her full bottom lip, distracting him momentarily.

Killian tightened his jaw, more determined to lay all his proverbial cards on the table. “No pressure,” he assured her, “but I want to make a few things very clear, alright?”

“Okay.”

“There are parts of my past that aren’t pretty.” He cleared his throat, hoping to make it easier to force out the truth. “Even parts of my past I don’t really remember. Perhaps someday I’ll share more with you. But today, I want to clarify any questions or concerns you might have about my time here in Swan Harbor.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, yes, I do. I don’t want you hearing stories and wondering if they’re true or not.”

Her eyes moved away from his again, this time settling on the person and dog still running around the track.

“I’m listening.” Emma straightened slightly.

“I haven’t slept with any of the ladies I’ve dated while living in Swan Harbor,” he admitted in a husky voice.

Emma arched a blonde brow, “In this case, is,” she made air quotes, “‘slept with’ a euphemism meaning you didn’t have sex with them? Or are you telling me you just didn’t spend the entire night after you had sex with them?”

“Would it matter?” Killian purred, feeling a little thrill when her eyes flared with awareness.

“I want to lie,” she admitted quietly, “and say no, it wouldn’t matter, but …” Her eyes met his, almost in defiance of what he was making her feel.

Killian saved her the admission and placed a finger over her lips. “Both,” he confessed. “I never stayed over, and I certainly never had sex with any of them.”

“Why?”

A bark of laughter escaped before he could stop it. “What?” he heard his voice raise in disbelief. “I thought that was a good thing.”

“Well, it is,” Emma confirmed almost shyly. “But why?”

“Why didn’t I make them notches on my bedpost?” Killian grinned when a look of annoyance flitted across her face. “It was too easy.” It wasn’t until he’d given the response, he realized that was only half reason.

“Is that why you’re interested in me?” She confronted him with a question he’d asked himself several times. “Is it just the chase?”

How did he tell her all the reasons he was interested in her without scaring her off? Killian cupped her jaw and his thumb rested lightly in the slight indention below her bottom lip, “You,” his voice dropped an octave, “make me feel.”

“Is that a good thing?”

Was it a good thing?

He could honestly say it was just about the best bloody thing that had ever happened to him, but that was admitting too much. Killian inclined his head, giving her a gentle smile. “It is … but it scares the bloody hell out of me.”

Their eyes engaged in a heated confrontation, one that had Killian’s pulse racing and his breaths coming quicker. In hers, he saw everything he could ever want and questions neither were ready to have exposed. Part of him needed to look away, afraid she would see too much, worried she would find him lacking. But the rest of him wanted to meld his mouth to hers and show her exactly what he was feeling.

He felt the muscles in her throat move up, then down as she swallowed, and her eyes dropped to his lips.

“It scares me too.” she confessed breathlessly. “In fact …”

“What is it, Emma?” Killian probed, not willing to allow her to shut him out just yet.

She frowned, but the twinkle in her eyes belied she was really upset. “Did you really call one of those women, Emma?”

“Not one of my finer moments,” Killian went on to explain what had happened, “that was before Thanksgiving.”

“Smooth move, Reade.”

“Somehow,” he sent her a pointed look, “I knew my life was going to change when your yellow bug crossed my path.”

“Really?”

“Aye. After all, who else would have taught me the art of bathing kittens?” Then, needing to lessen the intensity of the conversation, he winked.

Her lips twitched for several seconds, before she allowed her laughter to break free. “And you were such a good student too.”

“I even have war wounds.” Killian held up one hand to show her.

“That little thing?” Emma ran a finger over a scratch on the side of his thumb, making his skin tingle. “Poor baby.”

Once again, the air inside the car sparked as their eyes clashed. The tingling on his hand spread up his arm and against his will, his eyes dropped to her lips. Her pupils dilated, her lips glistened, beckoning him forward. “Emma.”

“Buster! Get back here!” Someone shouted, making Emma jump back.

“Bloody hell!”

“Seems Buster isn’t listening so well,” she retorted as they watched the dog run barking wildly at something.

“What do you think he’s barking at?”

“Probably some wild animal,” Emma leaned forward for a closer look, “a skunk, a hare, maybe even a deer.”

“Okay,” a lop-sided grin crossed his face, “I guess we’d better go.”

“Guess so.”

Killian started the car and drove out of the park, frustration still zipping along his skin. Would there be another opportunity? And soon?

“Where are we going again?” Emma murmured. “This area is unfamiliar to me.”

“Have you met Allen Little?” He mentally scolding himself for not telling her where they were going.

“I don’t think so, why?”

“Well,” he sent her a ‘you-won’t-believe-this-look,’ “Allen’s been taking his neighbor’s cats again.”

“What?”

“Oh, he doesn’t hurt them,” Killian hastened to assure her. “Apparently, he’s done it for the past three years. He takes them and returns them when asked, with no problem.”

“And no one knows why?” Emma frowned. “No charges are filed against him?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” he hated admitting. “But once you meet him, you might understand. I think the neighbors protect him.”

“Protect an animal thief?”

Killian just shrugged. “You’ll see.”