Inarticulate
Page 3
She glanced at the man in the corner, an arrogant smirk now curving those sensuous lips. He wasn’t the only one capable of being a jerk.
“Well, that’s strange…” Dominic came closer. “Because Keenan doesn’t talk.”
It was her turn to frown. “What do you mean?” Her skin prickled with goosebumps as the weight of both their attention focused on her.
“I mean, Keenan doesn’t talk.” Dominic shot his friend a questioning look, but she was too focused on her cousin and shocked from his words to bother with the silent stranger’s response. “At all.”
Keenan cleared his throat. It was deep and gravel-rich, demanding her attention. When she turned to him, he raised a brow, throwing the rudeness she’d been wordlessly accusing him of right back in her face.
The muted accusation sent a shiver of unwelcome stupidity down her spine. She became uncomfortable in her own skin. Ashamed. But who the hell did he think he was? Just because he couldn’t, or didn’t want to, speak didn’t mean he lacked the skills to communicate his inability.
“Oh.” She smiled sweetly. “That clears things up.” She turned her attention to Dominic. “I thought he was just an asshole.”
Her cousin snorted. “Don’t worry, he is.” He bridged the distance between them and flung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. “Savvy, this is Keenan. He’s practically family. And Kee, this is Savvy, she actually is family, so stop being a prick and treat her nice.”
Her throat tightened and the moisture coating her mouth evaporated. Keenan stood there, taking another long pull of his beer, suave as hell, before placing it down on the banister and holding out a hand.
She could already sense the exhilaration his touch would ignite. Her arm was tingling, all the way down to her palm and through her fingers. She stepped forward, sliding her hand into his, and tried to appear unfazed by the jolt that followed the brush of their skin. His mouth was mesmerizing. Both lips equally lush and soft. She wondered what he would look like when he smiled. A full, beaming smile. Would his eyes light up? Would the dark mysteriousness wash away?
“So you don’t talk?” She pulled her hand back even though a little part of her wanted to keep the connection.
He shook his head. Once. Stilted.
He definitely didn’t overcompensate for his lack of speech. Everything he did was calm and controlled—a jerk of his chin, a curve of his lips, a tilt of his head. The asshole knew he was intriguing. It was probably his calling card.
“Then how did the two of you become close?”
“Why don’t we talk about this later?” Dominic pulled on the crook of her arm. “It’s time for dinner.”
“What about Penny?”
Dominic winced. “Now, don’t get mad…”
Too late. “She isn’t coming, is she?”
He shook his head. “She won’t finish work for hours.”
Savannah slid her tongue along the edge of her teeth, feigning annoyance even though she was relieved at not having to deal with the wicked bitch of the north. “You realize you owe me, right?”
He inclined his head and made for the front door. “I’ll make it up to you next weekend.”
“Next weekend?” She sauntered after him, sensing the silent stranger a few paces behind her, his presence making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
“We’ll discuss it later.” He held open the door, allowing the rush of chatter and laughter from inside to echo into the front yard. “Let’s get through dinner first.”
Chapter Four
Numerous serving plates were spread over a long trestle table. Eighteen people in total, all of them smiling from the effect of delicious food and friendly conversation. Savannah sat next to Dominic, across from Keenan, with her aunt graciously seated at the head of the table.
“So, he never talks?” she murmured under the hum of chatter.
Dominic cut her a glance as he chewed the food in his mouth. “He has his own way of communicating.”
“I bet he does.” With his hands, and his lips, and his tongue. The evil death stare said a lot, too. “He’s attractive, has perfect dress sense, and doesn’t talk. I think I want him to father my babies.”
She’d caught Keenan eyeballing her over dinner. More than once. It was a look with narrowed eyes. Not quite a glare, but close enough to show his annoyance. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to piss him off, but she’d give him a gold star for animosity.
“You and every other woman he’s met since I’ve known him.”
“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?” She nudged his shoulder and winced when his knife clattered against his plate. “Sorry.”
“No jealousy here.” Dominic jerked his chin in Keenan’s direction. “He’s good people. It just takes a while for him to warm up to strangers.”
Warm up? She merely wanted to get past the stage where she thought he wanted to stab his dinner knife through her chest.
He still intrigued her, though, and it wasn’t all due to her fluttering ovaries. Everyone spoke to him during the meal. There was no discomfort or lull in the conversations he was involved in. Yet she noticed nobody asked him questions that required more than a yes or no answer. Nothing that needed more than a subtle jerk of his head.
“Who wants seconds?” Her aunt stood and held up a dish of potato bake.
There was a mass of groans. Guests leaned back in their chairs, rubbing overextended tummies while others shook their head, or waved away the possibility of more food.
Savannah chuckled to herself at the dramatics, skimming her attention over everyone until she reached Keenan. Their gazes collided and her breath caught. A rush of adrenaline slid through her veins as she waited for another one of his glares.
The nasty look didn’t materialize. This time his focus was blank. No emotion. No expression. She broke eye contact, unable to match his unblinking stare without the threat of doing something silly like snorting, giggling, or blushing.
The man was a damn robot.
“The meal was lovely. Thank you.” She pushed from her seat, placed her dirty cutlery onto her plate, and then poked Dominic in the shoulder. “I’ll wash if you want to dry.”
He peered up at her with incredulity. “What century are you living in? We have a dishwasher. You rinse, I’ll stack.”
“Deal.” She beamed at him, her full smile holding until she turned back to the table, and her traitorous eyes focused back on Keenan. Damn it. She needed to stop seeking him out. She was too young to be shot. Or stabbed. Or kidnapped.
She was tempted to poke out her tongue, flip him the bird, even flash her bra covered tits to see if he was capable of more than an impassive stare. Whatever. She would ignore him from now on. He didn’t deserve her attention. No matter how attractive his brooding was.
“I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” she muttered to Dominic.
She ignored Keenan, who pushed to his feet to stack empty plates, and strode from the room. As soon as the dishes were done, she was out of here. Her mood had deteriorated, and she didn’t want to risk seeing Penny when holding a professional façade would be near impossible.
“About next weekend—” Dominic came up behind her and clattered a stack of plates into the sink, “—there’s a bonfire on the outskirts of the city on Saturday night. You should come.”
She sidestepped, moved out of his way, and bristled at the sight of Keenan in the doorway. “I’ll keep it in mind. I’m not sure what my schedule will be like by then.”
Dominic grinned and addressed Keenan. “Does that sound like a brushoff to you?”
The other man rested his shoulder against the frame and inclined his head. Gah. What she wouldn’t give for him to show some enthusiasm. A smile. A thumbs up. Even shooting her the bird would be a relief from all the thinly veiled disdain.
“A bonfire in the middle of nowhere isn’t my idea of fun.”
“The middle of nowhere is actually the back of a property overlooking a two-
story mansion owned by a rich bastard I know.” He pulled open the dishwasher and began stacking plates. “There’ll be booze, friendly faces, and Penny. She looks forward to camp nights. It would be a good opportunity for you to speak with her while she’s in a decent mood.”
Maybe. Speaking to her cousin in a casual setting still seemed like the best way to approach the situation. But in general, it wasn’t something she wanted to think about at all. She was shoving that carnage to the back of her mind until a later date.
“Will my friend Keenan be there?” She eyed the man in question and pressed her lips tight to fight a smile.
He inclined his head. Ever so slightly. He was almost dreamy in his unwavering hostility.
She leaned back against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest, and scrutinized him. She couldn’t fathom his self-control. He was too calm, too composed, and entirely guarded. The need to taunt him until he cracked ate at her. Ate and ate and ate.
“Do you think I should go?”
His eyes narrowed and everything inside her stopped—her heart, her blood flow, her sense of self-preservation as she began to smile.
He nodded. Twice.
Holy shit. It was an unenthusiastic double nod, but a double nod no less.
“Whoa.” She held up her hands. “Don’t go getting excited, young man. I’ll have to see what happens.”
Dominic chuckled. “You’re such a bitch.”
She kept her focus on Keenan as her smile faded. Was she being a bitch? It wasn’t her intent. Then again, just because she wanted to communicate and get inside the mind of the dark, handsome, and silent stranger, didn’t mean he had a responsibility to give in. He obviously had a reason for being guarded.
“Sorry.” She turned to the sink and rinsed off the remaining plates. “Once these are stacked, do you mind taking me back to the hotel?”
“Of course. Go say goodbye to Mom. I’ll be finished by the time you return.”
She nodded and kept her head low as she walked from the kitchen. Her aunt was still standing at the head of the table, smiling and enjoying the praise her cooking had inspired. Savannah came to her side and whispered in her ear, “I’m leaving now.”
There were more hugs and kisses. A myriad of murmured words in her ear and pleas for her to come back as much as possible during her stay in Seattle.
“I will.” She wasn’t sure if it was a lie. Time would tell. But tonight had been fun. Kind of.
She waved goodbye to the guests still chatting at the table, and made her way back to the kitchen. Her steps slowed as she passed through the doorway and found Keenan and Dominic standing face to face, on opposite sides of the open dishwasher door. They both stiffened at the first click of her heels against the tile, and her cousin’s harshly whispered words cut short.
“Did I interrupt something?”
Dominic shook his head and tried to appease her with a fake smile. “Is the princess ready to be escorted back to her tower?”
“Yeah.” She tracked Keenan’s movements as he stalked to the far side of the room and leaned against the wall. He didn’t look at her this time. Didn’t lift his focus from the lazy position on the floor. “It was nice to meet you, Keenan.”
She measured her steps toward him and held out her hand. His chin lifted and she tensed when his eyes met hers. The soulful gray was intoxicating. Hypnotizing. A myriad of unspoken words drifted between them, but they were nonsensical, in another language. She yearned to understand him. To hear what his gaze implied. To comprehend what his harsh focus meant.
His fingers slid across her palm, rough and warm. There was no hesitation. No reluctance. She wanted to believe there was a flicker of seduction in his features. That the look he gave her was more than goodbye. He shook her hand, the slow rhythm in contrast to the hummingbird flutter in her chest.
“I might see you next weekend.” She cleared her throat to cast away her embarrassingly husky tone and pulled back her arm.
He held tight, his unreadable expression not even flickering as he clutched her fingers. The connection was minute, a mere clench of his grip, yet the rush of fire it sent through her veins had her mouth opening and closing like a guppy.
Then he was gone. The brief withdrawal of his palm and slight jut of his chin toward Dominic done in the blink of an eye before he stalked from the room.
“Ready?” her cousin asked behind her.
No. “Yes.”
She turned to Dominic, her mind a whirling mess of annoyance, curiosity, and the stinging bite of arousal. Keenan had cemented her fate for next weekend. She would be at the bonfire. With bells on. The tall, dark, and devilish stranger might be exactly what she needed. There was no way she could keep idle in her hotel suite when the perfect opportunity to move on from Spencer was passing her by.
“Come on.” Dominic led the way from the kitchen. “I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
Chapter Five
Savannah spent the week smiling. A fake, torturous lift of her lips she didn’t plan on replicating until Monday came back around.
Grandiosity’s plan seemed crystal clear. They wanted to sweep out meager Rydel staff to replace them with their own bright and shiny set of minions. Whether or not they were trying to drive down the settlement was another issue. And both were in breach of the settlement agreement.
The list of staff resignations grew day by day—six housekeepers, one maintenance man, two receptionists, three kitchen hands, and a bartender. There were too many to remember, and Savannah had only had the charm to convince less than half of those to return.
The employees who had stuck by the company had made it clear they were only doing so because they had no other job to go to. They were scared, stressed, and wearing thin of all the bullshit. Rightly so, too.
Kelly, one of the three remaining receptionists, had a dying mother and excessive hospital bills to pay. Amanda, the event manager, had a wedding booked on the eve of Thanksgiving and less than enough staff to facilitate the life changing day for her happy couple. And Grant, the morning shift manager, had admitted to unhealthy anxiety issues and wasn’t sure if he could medically remain working until settlement.
That was merely three of the items on her infinite list of waking nightmares. Three out of a bazillion. And her heart bled at each one. But the last thing she needed was emotional attachment. The weight of fixing this mess was enough for her shoulders to bear. She needed to remain detached, even when more than one employee had told her the insecurities started weeks ago when security footage showed Penny reserving a room under a fake name.
Her cousin then proceeded to intimidate every employee she came across until management had removed her from the premises forty-eight hours later. In a perfect world, she never should've been able to secure a suite, let alone manipulate everyone she came in contact with. Only the trickle of threats hadn’t reached management ears until it was already too late, and staff had started to leave.
But all the manipulation and sabotage didn’t currently matter, because it was Saturday night and Savannah was officially off the clock.
Dominic had texted her directions to the ‘Rich Bastard’s property,’ and she was almost at her destination. A six-pack of wine spritzers sloshed from the passenger seat of her rental car. Blankets and pillows were stacked in the back. The road she drove along was bordered by tall trees and devoid of streetlights. It was the perfect setting for the start of a horror film.
She followed the curve of the road to the left, and the flicker of flames came into view. The bright orange glow illuminated tall hedges and the outline of a massive house consumed in darkness.
“How the hell do I get in?” Closed steel gates loomed at the entrance to the property, forcing her to look for an alternate entrance. There was no sign of life inside the house. No lights. No glow from a television.
She inched her foot off the accelerator and continued toward the end of the house, her eyes squinted. There was a barely visible
open fence gate up ahead, the metal reflecting the moonlight. She stopped and peered along the wall of hedges separating the house yard from the stubbled grass of a barren field. There were cars parked in the distance, one lined after the other. All of them glowed in different shades from the fire.
This was it.
She turned the car onto the dirt road, the large hedge on her left, the massive house looming just behind the natural screen. People came into view, more vehicles, the massive bonfire. She pulled to a stop at the makeshift parking lot, reached for the bottles of alcohol, and then slid from her seat into the freezing night air.
“Savvy!” Dominic waved a beer bottle at her from the opposite side of the flames. “Come over here.”
His intoxication became clearer the closer she approached. She could see the glaze in his eyes, the delirious smile that spoke of the liquid buzz running through his veins.
“I’m glad you made it.” He slid his arm around her neck and yanked her in for a smothering hug.
“Yeah, me, too.” She looked over his shoulder and her stomach took a nose-dive. She’d felt the same sensation throughout the week, whenever she had time to spare a thought on Keenan’s intense eyes.
He stood alone in the shadows, leaning against a large tree trunk, a beer bottle in his hand as he stared at the flames. She feasted on the sight of him, her senses reigniting at what they’d been starved of all week.
She shouldn’t be so quick to jump at the bark of her hungry hormones, not after the mistake of Spencer, but this man was different. He was cold and calculating. Mysterious and intense. Nothing near the deceptive perfection of Spencer.
Keenan’s jaw still held the hint of dark stubble. His eyes were hooded yet fierce. He wore a thick brown jacket, the white woolen interior making his tanned skin seem darker. Almost olive. And his dark blue jeans were just as snug as the ones he wore last week.