Sweetwater: The Kihn (The Sweet Series) (15 page)

I help old Mr. Roy finish stacking the folding chairs against the wall. I can’t bear the idea of leaving him to do it alone. It’s his job to close up the community building after meetings, but my goodness! He’s about seventy years old. He says he enjoys my company, and I enjoy hearing him talk about his chickens.

As I hurry across the parking lot, I slow my step when I notice the Hummer parked by my Jeep. Lucas leans against its front tire well. It figures that big, black, menacing thing belongs to him. His eyes follow me as I move toward my car, making me incredibly self-conscious. I bite my lip as I hit the key fob to unlock my Jeep.
What is he doing here?

He detaches himself from the Hummer and walks with a sinuous grace toward me as if he’s stalking me. I tentatively step back. I scan the parking lot, but of course, everyone else has already left. “What are you doing here?” I croak.

He flashes a wide, wicked smile. “Waiting for you.”

I nervously tuck my hair behind my ear. “Why?” I sound out of breath.

His lips twitch as if he’s fighting a smile. “I want to invite you to my home. Your cousins will be there with some of the others. I hoped you might consider coming through the gates to see my place.”

I narrow my eyes at him. He looks as if he’s trying not to grin because he knows it would be the wrong thing to do. Smart man.

“No, thank you,” I say and move to open my door.

In an instant, he’s standing next to me. I gasp and step back, and he backs me up against the Jeep. I place my hand against his stomach to keep him from coming any closer, but that doesn’t stop him from leaning toward me and inhaling deeply. “You smell incredible. Sweet.”

“I’ll be sure to throw my perfume away,” I respond with anger.

He laughs, and I feel as if his laughter dances across my skin. “No—you’re not wearing perfume. You have a natural, sweet essence. You remind me of that song, the one about smelling sex and candy.” His voice flows over me, rich and dark.

I push against his stomach, to no avail. I look up, and his eyes lock on mine. I glare at him, but I am truly afraid. “You’re scaring me. Please back up,” I whisper.

He regards me with a speculative gleam. What he sees must convince him I’m serious because he steps back. He bends slightly to look into my face. A lock of black hair falls across his forehead, and I have a sudden, nearly uncontrollable urge to smooth it back.

“I’m sorry, Sofie. My intention is not to frighten you.” He sounds sincere. Then he flashes a grin brimming with no good. “I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

I narrow my gaze in wariness and inch to my car door. “A gentleman is simply a patient wolf,” I snap.

He doesn’t bother restraining his grin this time. His eyes gleam silver. “You’re a little spitfire, aren’t you?”

“That’s right! And I’ll scratch your eyes out!”

He laughs out loud. “I like you, Sofia Reece.”

“I can’t sa
y the feeling is mutual,” I shoot back as I open my car door.

He reaches over and grabs hold of the door, so I can’t open it wide enough to get in. “I could change your mind,” he says softly. His voice is seductive, and his eyes pull me in, holding me captive. He looks at my mouth in a way that lets me know he’s going to kiss me. I want him to kiss me.

I close my eyes and shake my head, trying to clear the fog. “No,” I moan. He’s close enough for me to feel the warmth of his body and he’s watching me intently. I lick my lips, wanting to taste him. I struggle to say, “Stay away from me.”

His mouth lifts in an amused smile as if he knows my thoughts. He pulls the car door open and I get in, jerking it closed and hitting the automatic lock. I turn the key in the ignition, wanting to gun it and speed away, but I drive normally out to the highway. He follows me home, and as I pull into my driveway, he stops in the road, waiting in his big, black, hulking machine until I get into the house.

For the second night in a row, the phone rings at an ungodly hour. I fumble for it.
I’m going to kick his butt!

“Sawyer—” I whine.

“It’s not your cousin, sweet.”
Oh!
I have a sudden vision of laughing, silver-green eyes. “Did I wake you?” I hear the humor in his deep voice.

“Why are you calling me?” I sit up in bed, pulling my knees to my chest, and brush my hair off my forehead. “I think I’m having a nightmare.” Even I hear the contempt in my voice. For unknown reasons, this man annoys me.

He laughs. “Sofia, you wound me.”

I’d like to wound him.
“What do you want?”

“We’re meeting at my place again tomorrow night—”

“I am not coming to your house.”

He chuckles before continuing. “Since it appears
you
are the spokesperson for the women, we think it’s vital you be here—”

“Who are
we
?” I interrupt again.

He hesitates for a moment. “Your cousins, Taylor—”

“Taylor’s gone.”

“He’s back.”

I wait for him to say something more. Just when I think he won’t, he asks, “Any more questions?”

“No.”

“Five o’clock.” Silence again. “You will come through the gates, right?” His voice rings with amusement.

I hang up on him.

It’s busy at work from the moment I arrive. I cooked two chuck roasts yesterday, and I’m using them to make shepherd’s pie for today’s lunch special.

Murphy’s changed the schedule around so Bobbi and I don’t work together. I haven’t seen her si
nce Saturday night at Nick’s, but I continue to feel guilty. I haven’t seen Jake much either, which makes me sad. I miss him, even if I am still pissed. T
he change in scheduling causes a few bumps at work. Like this morning Emma Rae hollers for me, needing my help.

Murphy’s has two kitchens. The first one is a large area that includes the deli prep station, grill, deep fryer, sinks, and cashier area. Through the swinging door near the grill is the second kitchen, and this is my domain. There’s a commercial oven with a large cooktop, sink, and a prep area, along with a small walk-in cooler. Several shelves on one wall hold all the pots and pans. It’s all set up really well, making for a pleasant place to work.

I bound into the front kitchen. “Whatcha need?” She has about four orders going.

“Can you take these two breakfast plates out to Benny and Tony, please?”

“Awww, Emma Rae!” Benny Perkins leers at me any time he’s around, and no matter how many times I shoot him down, he continues to ask me out. “Under protest,” I reply, picking up the plates.

“Also check everyone for coffee, if you don’t mind,” she adds with a smile.

I’m looking down as I enter the dining room. The toast is slipping on one of the plates, so I’m keeping an eye on it. I walk smack-dab into someone. “I am so sorry!” I come near to dropping both breakfasts when I see Lucas in front of me.

His hand shoots ou
t to steady one of the plates. “Sofie,” he says sounding amused.

I can’t seem to breathe while looking into his green eyes. “Excuse me.” My voice sounds breathless.

At Benny and Tony’s table, I set down their plates, biting my lip.
What is he doing here?

“Thanks, Sofie,” Benny comments, eyeballing me. “You look great today.”

“Thanks, can I get you anything else?”

“You can go out with me Saturday night,” he suggests. “There’s a party at the Jones’s. Of course, I guess you already know about that.” He grins.

“Leave the girl alone,” Tony tells him, for which I am grateful.

“I’ll be back in a minute with more coffee.” As I turn to leave, my eyes search out Lucas. He’s sitting with several men at the head of two tables they’ve pushed together. Andy Pearson looks up and waves to me.

I take a deep breath, tucking a stray strand of hair that’s escaped my ponytail behind my ear. Lucas’ eyes hold mine as I step up to their table, cussing myself for wearing too-tight jeans and my one Murphy’s T-shirt that fits just a little too snug across my chest. I put off doing my laundry, and I had to dig to find these clothes. I didn’t worry too much abo
ut it at the time because I mostly stay in the kitchen.

“Hey, Sofie,” Andy says.

“Hi, Andy, can I get y’all something?”

“Sofie.” Lucas’ voice feels like velvet. “These are some of my men.” He gestures toward each man as he introduces him. The men nod politely, and a couple of them address me as “Miss.” They all look at me with speculation. I look back at Lucas.

“Could you bring us a pot of coffee, please?” he asks. I nod and turn to leave. “Sofie.” I close my eyes for a moment before turning back to him. “We drink our coffee very… strong.” His eyes move boldly over me.

I am so self-conscious. I desperately want to get out of there. I feel their eyes as I leave the room. I hear Lucas say, “Gentlemen” as I turn the corner. I head to the coffee maker to brew a fresh,
strong
pot. Hah! I’ll make it strong for him. I add enough coffee for three pots. That ought to make his hair curl. I smirk as I place cups on a tray. I take the regular pot of coffee to the dining area and top off everyone’s cup. I glance at Lucas’ table; he’s watching me. I hurry back to the kitchen.

“Emma Rae.” I hold up the tray of cups. “Do you want to take these out to Andy’s table?”

Her head pops up. “He’s here?”

“You passed right by him when you served Terry Joe his breakfast.”

“What!” Her dismay is obvious as she tries to dish up anothe
r breakfast.

I set the tray down and take her spatula. “I’ll do this. The fresh pot goes to their table.”

“Thanks, Sofie.”

No, thank you.
I smile smugly, pleased with myself. She’s soon back, and I return to my kitchen to finish the lunch special. Murphy comes in right after, and he helps Emma Rae finish the breakfast rush, allowing me to stay hidden in the kitchen.

Lunch comes and goes, and I head home right after two. I pick up the house, clean the bathrooms, and do my laundry. Sawyer calls, wanting to know if I’m going to the meeting.

“Do I really need to?” I ask, with a bit of a whine.

“Yes. You should have been there last night.” I make a
humph
sound. “Sofie, you’re missing out on some important stuff.”

“Can’t you just fill me in?”

“Sofe…” His voice holds censure.

“Okay, okay.” I sigh in resignation.

“You want me to pick you up?”

“Please.”

“See ya at four thirty.”

I barely have time to shower and dry my hair. I dress in old, faded jeans and a long-sleeved, pink, V-neck T-shirt. I p
ut on the necklace Taylor gave me and step into my boots, wishing I could wear my Converse. I’ll have to buy some new ones with my next paycheck.
Dang it!

We drive up to the closed gates, and a guard in black acknowledges Sawyer before hitting a switch to open the gates. The driveway meanders up the hill through the trees. The pavement widens into a parking area in front of the Craftsman-style home. I’m pleased to see the yard is still full of oak trees, and I know in the summer months this parking area and house will sit in a cave of shade. Sawyer parks his Jeep, and as we get out, I see a large building on the small rise beyond the house.

When I look back, Lucas is standing on the front porch. He’s wearing another one of those thermal Henley-type shirts. This one’s white and outlines his muscular arms and chest, intensifying his dark handsomeness. He stands with his hands in his front pockets, and I have a sudden yearning to touch him. I want to slide
my
hands into his pockets.

What the hell’s wrong with me?

I realize I shouldn’t be here with a lurch in my stomach. I turn toward the Jeep, exhaling sharply.

“What’s wrong?” Sawyer asks. “You look panicked.” I take a couple of deep breaths. I’m an idiot, acting this way in front of
him
. “Sofe?”

“I’m okay,” I whisp
er. We continue toward the house.

“Is there a problem?” Lucas lifts a brow.

“No,” I respond quickly.

“Good.” His voice causes things to flutter in my stomach. “I hope you didn’t have trouble coming through the gate.” He gives me a pointed look. I ignore him. “Please, come in.” He holds an arm out for us to enter his home.

As I ascend the front steps, I’m aware of the warmth of his slow, sexy smile. I feel like the fly as she gets too close to the spider’s web.

He reaches ahead of me and opens his front door. As I step through into the entryway, he murmurs, “Welcome.”

“Thank you,” I reply softly.

Before Sawyer steps through the door, Lucas tells him the men are finishing their practice session if he wants to join them. “I want to show Sofie the house.” He closes the door before I have a chance to follow Sawyer. “May I take your jacket?”

I hesitate, not knowing what I should do. I do know I don’t want to be alone with him.

“Max and Taylor are here. They’re in the kitchen.” He allays my fear as if he’s read my mind. He ambles down the hallway leading away from the entryway.

The entryway is beautiful, j
ust as I remember, with oak paneling and a polished wood floor. There’s a set of closed pocket doors, and I know a large room is beyond them. The stairway has the same polished banister Mr. Mitchell told me his children slid down as kids. I move slowly down the hallway looking at the pictures on the wall. They’re all candid shots. Lucas is in several of them, sometimes with beautiful women. The hallway opens into the living room where he’s waiting for me.

A large couch faces the fireplace with comfortable chairs scattered about. It’s a beautiful room done in different shades of green and white with bay windows on each side of the fireplace. “Through this doorway is part of the new addition I added.” He motions for me to precede him. “Down this hall is a guest bath, on your left.”

He leans in close. I notice his smile as he opens the door and leans even closer to flip on the light. I instinctively press against the doorframe, and he laughs softly before moving. It’s a beautiful, large bathroom, very upscale. I turn to exit the room, and he hangs back so I walk in front of him again. I certainly don’t like him at my back.

“Straight ahead. Open the door, the light’s already on,” he instructs.

My breath catches. It’s a bedroom.
His
bedroom—he doesn’t have to tell me. The room is something out of a magazine. T
he complete outer wall consists of glass. A large fireplace, with a couch and coffee table before it, takes up most of another wall. I ignore the bed. I’m already nervous enough. My peripheral vision notes a large four-poster in a beautiful golden oak. I’m conscious of him watching me. “Nice,” I respond, glancing at him.

His lips twitch with a smile. “There’s a bath through the door there. Would you care to see it?”

“No, thank you... If you’ve seen one bathroom, you’ve seen them all,” I answer, inescapably nervous.

He grins, not bothering to hide his amusement at my discomfort. I feel my cheeks grow warm, and I want to get out of there, badder than bad.

“Let’s go check out the kitchen—Max and Taylor will be wondering where we’ve gotten to,” he says.

On our way, we pass through the original dining room, beautifully decorate
d with an old oak dining set that fits the style and age of the house to perfection. His kitchen is a dream. He had it gutted and enlarged, and there are new oak cabinets and countertops with top-of-the-line appliances. A large counter functions as an island. Taylor and Max are sitting at a round oak table in its own area of the kitchen. They both stand as we enter the room.

“Sofie, it’s good t
o see you,” Taylor says.

My smile is warm as he moves toward me, and of course, I remember his kiss under the mistletoe. He chuckles, giving me a quick hug. When I glance at Lucas, he is watching us with an intensity I find unsettling. I know he’s noticed my heightened color. I give Max a smile.