by Leslie North
7
Katie couldn’t shake her unfortunate conversation with Janice and her gang on the drive home, and it put her in a dreary mood. The mood was only made worse by one of Texas’ notorious midday rainstorms. The ground went from dry and dusty to so full of puddles Katie was sure she was going to bottom out Ian’s truck. Add the facts that she had no umbrella, super high heels, and a stupidly thin shirt on and by the time she got herself through the front door, she was in the worst kind of mood. All she wanted was to take a hot shower, change into something comfy, and spend some time in her happy place, the kitchen. Unfortunately, after only a couple of steps into the house, it was clear to her that somebody was already there.
“Damn,” she whispered to herself, truly at a loss. She couldn’t for the life of her think of who could be banging and clattering around in the middle of the day. She didn’t think it was Carol. Carol was lovely and so very courteous. She wouldn’t show up unannounced. Not that it would have bothered Katie any, but something told her Carol would have considered it to be stepping on her replacement’s toes. So who exactly did that leave, then? She sighed and willed herself to be patient with whatever was going on and hurried towards the kitchen. What she found there was just about the last thing on the planet she expected to see.
“Oh!” she exclaimed in surprise, throwing her hand over her mouth to conceal a momentary smile, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Shoot. I was hoping to get it all done before you got back.”
It was clear from looking at both the state of the kitchen and the state of the man that Ian had been hard at work. Katie honestly wasn’t sure what her reaction should be. What did a girl do when she came home to find her stoic, sexy cowboy of a boss standing in the middle of his kitchen amidst a sea of kitchen gadgets? They weren’t just gadgets, either. Even just a cursory glance was enough to tell her that these tools were expensive. Not only that, but more than half of them were still in boxes that didn’t look like they had ever been opened. All in all, it painted an odd picture, and Katie struggled not to laugh. In the middle of it all stood Ian, hands on his hips and a harried look on his face while he surveyed the damage.
“Well,” she said, her smile breaking through in spite of herself, “it looks like you had a lot to get through. What’s going on in here?”
“Apparently, not a whole lot. I remembered all of this old crap me and Andy’s mom got for wedding gifts and never got around to opening. I hauled it all down from the attic, but I’m having a hell of a time getting it all sorted out. I was hoping to have it organized by the time you saw it,” he grumbled, bending down to pick up a wayward ladle. When he did, his hat tumbled off his head and caught on the edge of the nearest countertop. Katie caught it gracefully in one hand. She let her fingers trace along its worn, sweat-stained rim for a moment, her mind going back involuntarily to the image she’d gotten of the two of them getting sweaty together, before setting the hat down gingerly on the countertop and turning her focus to the gadgets.
“There’s a lot of really great stuff here, Ian.” Katie took a quick look and instead of drooling over the man, she couldn’t help drooling over what he was unpacking, which looked like one of everything from her favorite kitchen supply store. “This is amazing. It’s going to be such a help in getting things ready for Andy’s big competition!” Katie gushed. It was true. She felt like a kid on Christmas morning looking at all of her new toys.
“That was kind of the idea. Nobody in this family has ever been much of a chef since my great-grandma passed on—she’s the one who designed this kitchen. No one’s really made the most of it in years, and I didn’t expect it from my boy, either. I’ll be honest; you won’t find anyone more surprised than me by his reaction to his slot for the Strawberry Fest. I’m mighty glad about it, though. Appreciate you helping the kid out.” Ian was red in the face by the time he finished, and he moved his hand up to adjust his hat. When he realized it wasn’t there his eyes went wide and his face an even deeper shade of red in embarrassment. That was when Katie realized just how much of a security blanket it was for him. Feeling extra mischievous, she casually placed herself between him and what would otherwise have been a perfectly easy-to-reach hat.
Son of a bitch. The hat must have fallen off earlier and he hadn’t even noticed. He could see the stupid thing, it wasn’t far, but Katie was standing directly in his path to recovering it. He wanted his damn hat before he tried to get out what he needed to say. He wasn’t about to tell her that, though. What kind of grown man wanted to admit he needed his hat to be comfortable talking to a woman?
“Ian?” she asked, her head cocked to one side in a question, “Everything okay?”
“Sure,” he answered gruffly, “sure it is. I just wanted to get this mess out as a thank you, I guess, for everything you’ve been doing. For taking care of my boy, you know.”
Katie’s eyes got wider, and she started playing with the ends of her fiery hair in that way she had when she was feeling a little nervous. Then her face softened and broke into a smile that made her look prettier than a picture. By God, she really was a looker. The killer was, as confident as she came off, he wasn’t sure she realized that she was beautiful. He considered what it would be like to tell her that and his whole body went hot and tingly.
“Oh my gosh, you don’t have to thank me for anything. That’s why I’m here. To take care of Andy. To take care of both of you, really, if I can. It’s the least I can do.” She looked like she might cry when she spoke about taking care of Andy and Ian couldn’t help but feel touched. It was no small feat to find someone who wasn’t family to care about your child the way Katie seemed to care about his. She was there because he owed her uncle a favor, but he was starting to think he was the one getting the best deal out of the arrangement.
“Begging your pardon, Katie, but it’s my job to take care of Andy. Something I haven’t always been doing the best job at. It’s your job to regroup and figure out what you’re going to do after that mess with the cookbook.”
“No,” she waved him off with a blush and an embarrassed smile, “that’ll sort itself out. I think the best thing for me now is to take care of you guys. Making things good for you makes things better for me. It’s funny how that works out.” She laughed a little shakily. Man, Ian wanted his hat back, now more than ever. He felt naked without it.
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “funny thing.”
“And, now that you’ve gone to all of this trouble, I’m going to make you lunch! I’ll make it a daily thing, too. No sense in making sure Andy keeps putting on weight and letting your nutrition go down the drain,” she said brightly, lightening the tone of the conversation.
“Really, Katie, you don’t need to do that,” he started to say. Again, she waved him off.
“You’re right, I don’t need to, but I’m going to all the same. I’d like to do it. You’ve been really kind to me, Ian, despite all of my mistakes. You’ve made this experience so much better than I had any right to expect it to be and I’m very, very, grateful.”
Then, before he really understood what she was about to do, she closed the distance between them, wrapped her arms around him, and hugged him tight. He was so surprised by the gesture he felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him. For a minute, he just stood there like a moron with his arms down by his side while she went right on hugging him. It had been such a long time since he’d had full body contact this way he couldn’t think of what else to do. Then slowly, slowly, like he was moving in a dream, his arms came up, and he put them around her waist. There was no denying it; the warmth of her body pressed up against his felt good. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Nothing at all.
8
For a week, Katie made sure that whatever else she was doing with her day, she carved out time in the middle of it to make Ian’s lunch, just like she had promised. Every day of that week he protested, telling her that he was a grown man and that he could fix his food for h
imself, but Katie wasn’t that easily swayed. Besides, she liked completing that chore for him every day.
The only problem was that she didn’t quite have enough to fill her days—and her thoughts. She needed something to do, something physical, to take her mind off of the other day. It was that hug that had her so flustered. That stupid hug. Why had she done it? It was true that she tended towards being a physical kind of person, but he was her boss. It wasn’t exactly a good line to cross, especially since she hadn’t been able to get it out of her head ever since. Being in the kitchen was a minefield now. Every time she was in there she saw herself with her arms around Ian, felt his hot breath on her skin. She imagined she could almost smell the spice of his cologne. That supposedly innocent hug had been more sexual than a lot of the sex she’d had, and she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with that.
“Help him,” she whispered to herself, “that’s what you’re going to do.”
It was definitely what she wanted to do. Helping people was just what she did; it was the thing that made her feel like getting up every morning. And she had a pretty good feeling how she could help Ian, too. From what she’d learned from the gossips at the coffee shop, Ian hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since his wife died. She could respect that, she really could, but he had to move on someday. She was game to try to help. Even if it meant ignoring the little voice inside of her that proclaimed that maybe she wasn’t interested in seeing him with somebody else, after all.
“Stop it,” she whispered to herself, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks.
“Stop what?” Ian asked from behind her. She jumped about a mile into the air, almost dropping the plate she was about to take out to Ian.
“Oh my God, you scared me!” she gasped, clapping her free hand over her heart. He grinned at her and sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island. She set his lunch plate down in front of him and punched him slightly, playfully, in the arm. He made a show of pretending to be injured before digging into his meal. She leaned her elbows on the counter and watched, pretending not to notice how defined the muscles in his arm were.
“It’s good, Katie,” he said appreciatively, “it’s damn good, just like it always is, but—”
“Oh, don’t say it, Ian,” she interrupted laughingly, “let’s not do that whole song and dance again. You can tell me I don’t need to feed you all you want but you know I’m going to keep right on doing it.”
“I guess you’re right. It’s just that I don’t get it.”
“What’s there to get?”
“Why you do it. You’re already doing this thing I know isn’t your first choice, and you’re doing a hell of a job. Why take on something like feeding me on top of everything else?” he asked, looking at her earnestly. Her insides did a jumping little dance under that penetrating look, and she looked down at her nails, letting out an involuntary sigh before she could stop herself.
“What is it, Katie? What’s going on with you today?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, shifting restlessly from one foot to the other.
“You don’t seem your usual peppy self, that’s all. You don’t even have any of them crazy shoes on.”
“What, are you telling me you miss my heels, Ian Grant?” She laughed. Truth be told, she was totally thrown off by him having noticed that she was feeling out of sorts, to begin with. Seeing as she was out of sorts because she couldn’t get their damned hug out of her mind, she couldn’t exactly tell him the truth, either.
“I’m amazed by those shoes, is what I am. Don’t know how you don’t cripple yourself for life.”
“I’m very talented, that’s all,” she said with a wink.
“I’m sure you are, but that doesn’t answer my question. What’s been troubling you these last few days?”
“Nothing,” she sighed again without meaning to. “I think I’m just in need of a hit of endorphins, that’s all. I’ve been thinking I should go for a run or something with all of this wide open space. The only problem is, I absolutely hate running.”
“Sure, that would be a problem,” he grinned, “but I might have a solution.”
“Really? What do you mean?” she asked, leaning forward.
“I like to meet some buddies down at the Y on Fridays, play some ball. You ever play basketball?” He asked, looking at her doubtfully.
“Um, no,” she laughed, “not exactly.”
“Doesn’t really matter. Most of us aren’t any good. We only do it to blow off some steam. Why don’t you tag along? If it’s not going to mess with your schedule or anything, that is.”
“No! I mean yes, I would love to come. It won’t mess up my schedule at all. Just let me run upstairs and change real fast. It’ll only be two seconds.”
Katie couldn’t have cared less about a basketball game, but she couldn’t think of any way she would rather spend the afternoon than going to the Y with Ian. As long as she didn’t think too much about what that meant, she was okay with it, too. She was so okay with it that she was already mentally deciding which of her adorable yoga pants would make her look best for a casual pick-up game with the guys.
“Shit, I don’t know about this, Katie. This may come as a surprise, but I’m not much for yoga.”
Katie glanced up into Ian’s face, tried her best not to laugh, and failed miserably. It was true that he looked like his picture belonged next to “clueless” in the dictionary. She would have felt sorry for him if she hadn’t been enjoying herself so much. His plan to cheer her up with his weekly basketball game had backfired spectacularly after a kids’ camp art project had gone horribly, horribly wrong. The word on the street was that the court’s floor would recover from all of the glue, but it was going to take more than an afternoon to get it back into playable shape. Meanwhile, Katie had spotted a yoga class about to start and was all for the two of them giving it a try instead. She happened to be a regular practitioner but Ian, unsurprisingly, was a total novice.
“Come on, Ian,” she prodded, “it’ll be great. It’s so good for you, and the added flexibility it gives you is amazing.”
“I think I’m all good on that front,” he answered grumpily, eyeing the yoga room with a frown.
“Just give it a shot, okay? If you hate it, we’ll go. But we’ve got to get that endorphin fix somehow, right?”
“Christ,” he moaned, “all right. But the first time you laugh at me, I’m out.” He nodded, maybe at her or to himself, kicked his shoes off, and marched inside.
And, miraculously, he made it through the entire class. She watched him closely for the duration, waiting for some signal that he was throwing in the towel. To her surprise, the signal never came. He kept his eyes front, studying every pose the teacher struck and giving each one his all to get it right. The whole idea of needing a hit of endorphins had only been a diversionary tactic, but by the time they were out of the class and strapping themselves into Ian’s truck, Katie felt better than she had felt all week. She didn’t even care when, for the fifth day in a row, it started to rain yet again.
“So, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asked, fiddling with her seatbelt and then smoothing out her hair. It wasn’t until she had also gone through her purse, found and applied her lip gloss, and put everything back where it belonged again that she noticed that Ian wasn’t answering. She glanced at him sideways.
“Oh my gosh, was it? I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll never take you to a yoga class again.”
“No, that was fine. A little strange, but fine,” he answered, a faraway quality to his voice.
“Then what’s the matter?” she asked quietly, looking intently at her hands folded neatly in her lap.
“I’ve just gotta ask you something, Katie, and you can tell me to go to hell if you want.”
“I won’t do that. I would never, Ian.”
“I’ve just got to know. How come you never fought back?”
It was the last thing in the world she expected him
to say, and for a second she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what he was talking about. Then it hit her like a bus, and she felt stupid for not understanding instantly. Her stomach dropped into her feet, wiping out all of her hard-earned endorphins in one fell swoop.
“Ian—” she started haltingly, then stopped.
“I Googled you. I know I sound like a jackass saying it, but I Googled you, and I found plenty of stuff on the trouble you got in but nothing in your voice. You didn’t try and defend yourself or explain yourself, not even once. So there’s the woman sitting in the truck with me and the one I read about, and I can’t reconcile the two. I’ve tried, believe me, but I can’t do it. I just want to know why.”
“It’s just…” she tried, clearing her throat of the tears that wanted so badly to come out, “I don’t know, Ian. I guess I’ve just never thought of myself as much of a fighter. I just don’t do that.”
“But you do,” Ian insisted with a surprising level of vehemence, “I’ve seen you do it. You do it for Andy every day.”
“Right, but that’s different. I mean for myself. I can fight just fine when it’s for something that’s worth it. But I was in the wrong, Ian. What I did was wrong.”
“Katie,” he said, so quietly that she could pretend he’d never spoken at all. She couldn’t look at him. She didn’t want to fall apart in front of him, but he was making it very, very hard not to.
“Katie,” he said again, this time with more force. She turned towards him at the same time as he reached out and cupped her chin with one strong, calloused hand. She wanted to look back down, but Ian’s eyes were locked onto hers, and he wouldn’t let them drop. “I want you to listen to me, and I want you to hear what I’m saying. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” she whispered as her body began to tremble all over.