Trying to shake the unfamiliar sensation, she turned to the home they were passing, a three-story building, a first-floor screened porch with a lake view surrounding the sides. “This particular estate was built in the late nineteenth century.”
“Beautiful,” he said, though he hadn’t taken his eyes off her.
Heat seared her cheeks. She turned away from him, toward the lake. “Oh, look, some early-morning fishermen are out.”
“I imagine it gets too choppy on the lake later.”
“It does. People zipping around sightseeing. Or towing water-skiers. Or heading for their favorite lakeside restaurant,” she said with a grin, thinking of the boaters who made her café a destination.
“So was it the lake that drew you to this town?”
“Pretty much. Mom used to bring me here for the day a few times every summer when I was a kid. It was a super treat. We took a boat ride tour around the lake once every year. Plus there were festivals both lakeside and in town, a yearly dairymen’s breakfast, and assorted trunk shows. All kinds of things to do. I always loved this area, so when I got out on my own, I sometimes came for a weekend, and guess where I stayed.”
“At Lakeside Guest House.”
She nodded. “That I did.”
“Ah, it’s all fitting into place now.” When she gave him a questioning look, he added, “You just didn’t seem like a small-town girl.”
“But surprisingly, I fit in just fine.”
His low voice cut through her when he said, “I’m sure you would fit in anywhere.”
“Not so much.” He gave her a questioning look, so she said, “I simply didn’t fit in with corporate America. The opportunity to own and run the guest house and café was like a dream come true for me.”
“Glad to hear it. Not many people can say that about their professional lives.”
“What about you?”
His answer—“Bartending suits me just fine at the moment”—avoided her question’s real meaning. And he wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was studying some spot across the lake. To avoid uncomfortable questions?
She wanted to know what Thorne Hudson normally did for a living. Something kept her from asking directly. When he’d volunteered to tend bar for her, he’d said he didn’t need money right now. That he was planning on sticking around Lake Geneva for a while. Maybe he was having a professional crisis himself, trying to figure out what he should do with the rest of his life. She got that. If and when he was ready to talk about it, she would be glad to be his sounding board.
And when he slid an arm around her back and pulled her a little closer to avoid a break in the walkway, warmth filled her. She was sorry when he let go. Something told her she would be glad to be his anything.
“So, how far are we walking?” he asked.
She couldn’t help but tease him. “The path around the lake is about twenty-one miles. Up for it?” she asked, giving him a perfectly neutral expression.
“Twenty-one miles? You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope.”
“I doubt we would be back in time for the lunch crowd.”
“Not that I’m planning on walking it today,” she admitted with another grin. “I was just testing you.”
One eyebrow arched over a wide hazel eye. “So you have a dark sense of humor, too.”
Her grin widened. “I have my moments.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
In a better mood than she’d been in for weeks, Katelyn hated to end the reason for it. Being with Thorne was better than anything she could think of. But they’d gone far enough, and she knew they should loop back so she would have time to eat and shower and straighten up her apartment before having to worry about lunch hour at the café.
She said, “I’m hungry enough to eat a snake.”
“Really. Do you keep snake on hand in one of the café’s freezers?”
Katelyn rolled her eyes. “It’s just a saying. I must really be starving because snake is the last thing I would eat.”
“I can think of worse things.”
She shuddered. “Keep it to yourself, okay? I have a vivid imagination.”
Right now, she was imagining spending some quality time with Thorne when she didn’t have to worry about getting back to work. Time alone with him. Very personal, intimate time. As if…
“So we’re heading back to get breakfast?” he asked, sounding hopeful.
She didn’t miss the “we” in that statement. Suddenly growing warm, she said, “That was the plan. I make a decent omelet. Unless you have other plans…”
“Sounds good to me.”
“The street ahead will take us to South Lake Shore Drive, the main road along this side of the lake. We can follow it back. You can see most of the estates we passed from the other side.”
Katelyn told herself the walk would be long enough for her to settle down inside. To be casual about the whole thing. She didn’t want to create something in her mind that wasn’t there. Even so, she found it difficult not to wish for more.
—
Katelyn’s apartment was situated on the first floor of the guest house and had a view of the lake. Following her inside, Thorne realized it was similar in furnishings to his suite upstairs. Somewhat bigger, though, with a modest kitchen and an island allowing the cook to look out over the living area. The surprise was that there weren’t more personal touches. A few family photos on a shelving unit appeared to be the only thing of her own in the room.
Having the oddest feeling that something wasn’t quite right, Thorne took a second to check outside the window for anything that looked like a safety problem. Because the building had a basement and was on a hill that sloped down to the lake, Katelyn’s apartment was raised above ground level, so that was good. The café was on a lower level, closer to the lake to the east of her apartment. An intruder would need a leg up to get to the window from the outside. And even that wouldn’t be easy, because the area below her windows was all garden, with flowering rosebushes up against the building. He just wished his internal radar would settle down. His spidey sense had been on alert more than once on their walk, and he couldn’t shake the feeling even though he hadn’t seen anything that was off.
“Make yourself comfortable,” she said. “Would you like some coffee while you wait?”
“I’d be comfortable giving you a hand in the kitchen. I can put the coffee on while you get started.”
“Deal.”
The kitchen was a galley, with little room for two people to work at the same time. Not that brushing against an attractive woman was a hardship. Well, in a way it was. Wearing shorts and a tank top that accentuated her every curve, her skin slicked with sweat from their walk, her hair pulled up into a ponytail, tendrils around her face, she was temptation personified. His mind wandered to what it would be like to help her clean up, get those sweaty clothes off, soap those luscious curves in the shower. And then taste them.
Oh, hell, if he kept fantasizing, he was just going to make himself miserable.
Attracted to Katelyn from the first, he couldn’t help wanting to get to know her better, especially in a physical way. He wasn’t a monk. Not that he was looking for anything but temporary. With a past like his, that’s all he could expect anyway. She wasn’t like the women who usually kept him company. She was squeaky clean by comparison. Sweet. Cheerful, trying to make everyone around her smile in return. Maybe a little naïve. Even so, he had to keep reminding himself that Katelyn was his job, not someone he could get close to personally. He wished that he could ignore that fact. He’d totally fantasized about getting more personal with her on their walk, even while he’d kept an eagle eye out for impending danger.
Danger that had never appeared.
So far, he’d been working on instinct. A sixth sense he’d developed many years ago had always done well by him. It had kept him safe when he’d been on the streets at fifteen. And it had saved his life—and the lives of others—more than once
in Afghanistan. Back in the States, he’d worked as a chauffeur and saved a client’s wife from a stalker. Which had gotten him a personal recommendation from a corporate client in Chicago. Which in turn had led to this gig watching over Hamilton’s daughter. He always seemed to know when something was off. And the feeling had been pricking at his edges since he’d arrived in Lake Geneva. And yet, he’d seen nothing to cause any real alarm. Katelyn seemed perfectly safe. Like she didn’t really need him guarding her at all. Even so, he couldn’t shake his gut feeling that something was wrong and he was missing it. He simply couldn’t figure out what.
He joined her in the kitchen area and immediately got busy. By the time he hit start on the coffeemaker, Katelyn had all her ingredients stacked on the counter and was firing up a frying pan.
“What else can I do to help speed things along?” he asked.
“How about microwaving some bacon?” She threw cut-up mushrooms into the pan. “You can use paper plates and towels, which are over there.” She pointed to the counter near the refrigerator.
Gathering what he needed, Thorne set about getting the bacon ready as Katelyn cracked a half-dozen eggs and dumped them into a bowl. He liked working next to her, working as a team, something he’d had no experience with except while in the Army. And that teamwork had left him with nightmares.
“So where do you call home?” she suddenly asked.
Uh-oh. “Wherever I am at the moment.”
“You move around a lot?”
“Afraid so.” He was going to have to do a fancy dance with what information he offered.
“But surely there must be someplace you call home. Where your family lives?”
“No family.” He didn’t want to get into it, but perhaps that would satisfy her, and then she would leave the rest of his background be.
“C’mon,” she said, “I told you about my parents.”
“I’m serious. No family.” Which was more than he’d meant to tell her. “I never knew my father. My mother couldn’t take proper care of me, so I was put in the foster system when I was five. I saw her a few times those first months. And then she just disappeared.”
Katelyn frowned. “You never saw your mother again?”
He shook his head and tried to relax his suddenly clenched jaw. “Afraid not. I have no idea what ever happened to her, either.”
“I’m so sorry.” Katelyn was quiet for a few seconds as she beat the eggs with a whisk. Then she asked, “Foster system where?”
She really was focused on learning more about him. Grudgingly, Thorne said, “Indianapolis.”
“So that’s home.”
“Never felt like it to me.” He never talked about his past, not to anyone. “Hey—your mushrooms.” They were beginning to smoke, giving him a reprieve from her questions.
“Oh!” She pulled the pan off the flame and flipped them with a spatula. “I think they’re still okay.”
“No worries. They look fine. You caught them just in time.”
“Well, you did,” she countered. “I’d better pay more attention to the food.”
He sat the paper plates holding the bacon in the microwave, thankful that he’d had a way to distract her. Somehow, she’d gotten him to open up a bit. But he’d gotten as far as he was willing to go. He didn’t want to come any closer to stirring up memories of Afghanistan, never mind talk about it. On some level, Katelyn must have realized that, because she concentrated on her omelet and on popping a few slices of bread into a toaster oven.
It wasn’t until they were sitting at her island, heaping food onto their plates, that she picked up the subject again.
“I’m sorry if I got too nosey about your life before. One of my downfalls.”
“You have downfalls? I hadn’t noticed,” he said. “I’d rather talk about something more pleasant than my past, though, if you don’t mind.”
Her forehead furrowed. “Yes. Sure. Sorry.”
He almost told her not to worry about it, but he kept his peace. He didn’t want her to be too comfortable or she would bring it up again.
The sound of wind chimes filled the space. She put down her fork and pulled her cellphone from her shorts pocket. Her face pulled together in a frown. Rather than answering, she set the phone facedown on the counter.
“Something wrong?”
“Just a call I don’t want to take.” She tore into a piece of bacon and muttered. “Aaron. Old boyfriend. I seem to be on his mind lately. A lot.”
“Maybe he wants to get back together.”
“If so, that makes one of us,” she muttered, concentrating on her food.
Apparently, they both had things they didn’t want to talk about.
Thorne dug into the omelet and took a big bite, following it with half a slice of bacon. “Mmm, this really hits the spot after that walk.” He ate another bite and washed it down with some coffee. “So do you ever take time off?” he asked. “Surely you’re not all work just because you own the place.”
“Pretty much. I’m still learning the business, sometimes even on my days off. Oh, I don’t think I told you. The café is closed on Mondays, so everyone can have some time to themselves.”
“But you’re losing money that way. You could hire someone to be your replacement a couple days a week.” But somehow he didn’t think that would suit her.
“Yeah, maybe eventually. When I get everything running smoothly. I’m still a newbie at this, doing the best I can. In the meantime, the weekends are frantic and we still have a few kinks to work out.”
“So this weekend is when your part-time bartender shows up?”
She nodded. “Chad Moore. He’ll join you for the dinner shift tomorrow and work brunch and dinners on Saturday and Sunday. Trust me, even with another person behind the bar, you’ll need some time off after the weekend.”
“Then it sounds like it’s a good thing I came along when I did.” And not just for her business. With so many people milling about the place, someone with bad intentions could more easily get at Katelyn.
“A very good thing,” she said. “Chad’s a college kid with a limited attention span, unfortunately. I was afraid there’d be so much pressure on him working alone all weekend, he’d up and quit, too.”
“I imagine there’s a lot of turnover in any restaurant business.”
“That may be true, but it sure hasn’t made these early days easy. First, I had a waiter quit at the beginning of the season, and luckily Tansy came along the very next day. She’s the best worker I have on the waitstaff, so I’m not mourning that changeover. Then the maintenance guy quit, and I was without anyone for too long before hiring Radtke. That was fun. He’s not exactly the warm, fuzzy type, if you hadn’t noticed. He takes offense easily. And now Sam just up and disappearing was about more than I could handle until you came along.”
“ ‘Disappearing’?”
“It seems that way. He’s not answering my calls or texts. I even tried his apartment, but he didn’t answer the door.”
“Maybe he’s in some kind of trouble and left town.”
“Maybe. I was kind of wondering if he didn’t pick up with this woman he’s been crazy over and disappear with her for a while. But why he wouldn’t call and tell me that…”
She shook her head and reached for a piece of toast at the same time he did.
Their hands connected. Thorne froze. So did Katelyn. Their gazes locked. His pulse surged and his breath caught in his throat for a second.
Then he cleared it. “You first.” Moving his hand, he indicated she should take the first piece of toast.
But not touching her didn’t relieve him of the effect she had on him. He was glad to be sitting down, with his full-blown response to her luckily being hidden by the island counter. Katelyn Wade was not someone he could use. He needed to curb his thoughts and keep a professional distance, or he would never make it to the end of this assignment without having her.
Chapter 4
Friday dinner pulled the
biggest crowd Lakeside Café had seen since Katelyn bought the place. The line of hopeful customers extended out the door. There wasn’t a table to be had, but no one was deterred by that fact. It was clear that she wasn’t going to have a minute of downtime until closing, and maybe not even then.
But this was what she thrived on. What did surprise her was that even as she rushed around seating people and checking on her staff and the food being served, she somehow found time to think about Thorne. He’d been pleasant but distant at work yesterday, and at lunch today, too. While she appreciated his professional detachment, after the great morning they’d just spent together, she’d been a little surprised he didn’t find opportunities to talk to her. Maybe all her questions had put him off. Getting him to admit he’d never known his father and that his mother had given him up to the system probably had brought up old wounds. Now he’d gone from warm and friendly to distant.
Her own fault.
Katelyn wanted to kick herself for being insensitive. She’d simply wanted to know more about Thorne because of her strong attraction to him. Despite his working the bar for her, she didn’t think of him as a regular employee. He didn’t actually live in Lake Geneva, a fact that caused her some consternation both professionally and personally. Who knew how long it would be before he moved on?
“Katelyn!”
Hearing her name, she turned to see Gerard Eklund had arrived. He stepped to the front of the line. Other customers were giving him filthy looks, and one woman began complaining to her companion in a “How dare he?” vein.
Pasting on a smile, she joined him, circling away from the other customers so they would have trouble hearing the exchange in the noisy café.
“Gerard,” she said, remembering that he wanted her to call him by his first name. “How nice to see you again.” Though she was certain he wanted special treatment, she asked, “What can I do for you?”
“You can get me a table before I starve,” he said in a conspiratorial voice.
His Deception Page 4