Kilty Pleasure Page 9

  The scowling had to be rare, because he was more of the easygoing, nice-guy type. Or so she’d heard. Maybe he just scowled around her. Didn’t that just make her feel special? As if she were the only one seeing a Sasquatch or something.

  Smiling wryly at her own thoughts, she closed the door behind him. He didn’t even try and touch her as he made his way into her house.

  And I’m not disappointed by that fact.

  Okay, maybe she was a little. The last week had been nothing but scalding thoughts of what they’d done together. Right here on her floor.

  He must’ve been remembering the same thing because his gaze dropped to the carpet and his jaw went tight.

  “I’m here to talk.”

  It almost seemed as if he was telling himself more than her.

  “Talk?” She arched a brow. “Really? So this isn’t another booty call?”

  He glanced at her and the irritation on his face had vanished. The expression that had replaced it was almost startled, then changed to solemn. So much so that she shifted and lowered her gaze.

  “You were never meant to be a booty call, Hailey.”

  Yet he’d sure made her feel like one that night, whether he’d intended to or not.

  “Look, I get it.” Why she was trying to let him off the hook was beyond her comprehension. “We had this chemistry between us, we acted on it—whether it was the right thing to do or not. But it was no big deal.”

  It was amazing how she could make herself sound so calm and blasé about it. When it had literally occupied almost her every thought since it had happened.

  “It wasn’t?” He took a step toward her. “Are you quite sure? Because, to be honest, I think it was.”

  The proximity of him made her senses swim. She struggled to keep her breathing even. “You do?”

  “Aye. I enjoyed sex with you, Hailey. Quite a bit more than I’m comfortable with.”

  She grimaced and shook her head. “Wow. I’m not really sure that’s a compliment.”

  “It’s probably not,” he agreed. “Though I’m sure you’ve had similar feelings? Was it as intense for you?”

  “Yes. It was.” She bit her lip, not bothering to lie, and wishing he’d step away again because it was hard to think. “I haven’t… Look I don’t sleep around. I haven’t been with all that many guys, and not to give you a gigantic freaking head or anything, but, yeah, the sex I had with you was probably the best I’ve had.”

  His chest swelled and the flash of heat in his eyes had her swallowing hard and stepping away from him. He stepped forward, as if this were a choreographed dance.

  She lifted her hands, trying to ward him off. “And it really kind of pisses me off, McLaughlin, because I don’t like you all that much as a person.”

  “What if I said likewise?”

  “Well, I’d think you were kind of a judgmental asshole who holds grudges, but, hey, what do I know?”

  “Not about the not-liking-you bit, but what if I said likewise about you being the best sex I’ve ever had?” He stepped closer, so they were nearly chest to chest now. “And what if I said you were the first woman I’d been with in over a year?”

  She didn’t resist a short laugh. “I’d say you’re lying out your—”

  “I’m not lying, Hailey.” He caught the back of her neck with his hand, effectively stopping her retreat, and then trailed his fingers up and down her nape in a way that made her tremble. “Maybe it was so good for me, personally, because it had been so long.” He moved his thumbs forward to stroke her jaw. “And yet, I don’t think that’s it.”

  Oh, the things he was doing with that light touch. “You don’t?”

  “No.” His gaze softened as it lingered on her mouth. “I want you, just as you said. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”

  Her pulse skipped and she swallowed hard. “And you’re not happy about it.”

  He didn’t answer. She wasn’t even sure he’d heard her because he was staring at her mouth as if he was struggling not to devour it.

  She couldn’t let this go. “So basically I’m the cliché. The wrong-side-of-town girl that you shouldn’t be involved with and whom you can’t stay away from.”

  “Aye, something like that.”

  His absently spoken reply was almost like little darts to her heart.

  Only I’m not her, and I haven’t been her for years. She bit back the protest. She’d learned a long time ago that trying to convince some people that she was separate from her family was just a waste of breath. And Colin was one of those people.

  Despite every inch of her wanting to stand on tiptoes and kiss him, she maneuvered out of his grip and stepped away.

  “Look, I still think we need to call what happened a one-time deal.” She averted her gaze as she slipped past him and walked to the kitchen. “I’m not in the market for sleeping with a guy who hates me.”

  The footsteps in the hall behind her signaled he was following her.

  “I don’t hate you. And I’m sorry if I ever said as much or did anything to give you that impression.”

  Seriously? She cast him a skeptical glance over her shoulder and then went to check on her dinner that was nearly done in the oven.

  “I truly don’t,” he insisted. “Look, I’ll admit it, I don’t trust you, but—” He broke off and went silent.

  When she looked at him again he was drawing in a deep breath and staring into the oven.

  “Is that lasagna?”

  “Um, yes.” She pulled the aluminum foil off the lasagna to let the cheese brown a bit.

  “That smells amazing.”

  “Okay.” Well that was random. “You were saying…?”

  “Your lasagna smells—”

  “No, before we were talking about my dinner.” She gave an exasperated laugh, which sobered when she reminded him, “You don’t trust me…?”

  “Ah, right.” He tore his gaze, almost reluctantly, from the food in the oven as he leaned back against the counter and folded his arms over his chest. “It’s true. I don’t much trust you, Hailey.”

  “I realize that.” And she could understand where he was coming from. “But is there a reason you have to? There doesn’t even need to be a you and me. Any type of relationship I have is with Sarah.”

  “Aye. And I’m afraid you’ll hurt her again.” His expression darkened, became one of wariness. “I hear you girls are all having lunch tomorrow.”

  “Oh. And that must be the real reason why you’ve come here tonight. To tell me it’s a bad idea?”

  His broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Maybe.”

  “Look, I kind of agree with you. This wasn’t even my idea.”

  “Wait, it wasn’t?”

  “No, it was Sarah’s.” Hailey turned away from the shock in his eyes and went to prepare the garlic Parmesan bread. “Last week she asked to see me and we talked about things, and then she suggested lunch with her, Kenzie and me.”

  “Hmm.”

  “She wants to work on rebuilding our friendship.”

  “You could’ve just told her no.”

  Hailey set the bread in the oven, closed the door and then turned to look at him.

  “Maybe I could’ve, but I didn’t really want to.” She searched his gaze, trying to make him understand. “I miss them. Sarah and Kenzie were my best friends.”

  His mouth tightened. “And you betrayed them for five hundred dollars.”

  Another gut punch, but this time she’d expected it.

  “So you keep reminding me. I needed the money, Colin. You, more than anyone, should understand what it means to be protective of your family. Maybe you’d do anything to protect them. Well, that’s how it was for me when it came to my little brother.”

  “Aye, I understand very well being protective of family. Still, it was a pretty shady way to earn a half a grand.”

  “Maybe it was, but I’d been offered money to do a lot worse.” The dark memories rose to the surface, taking the edge off her
hunger and making her nauseated. “The sick, perverted men that came in and out of my house? Let’s just say that the offer Sarah’s dad made me was the easy way to make money.”

  There was a heavy silence and when she snuck a glance at him, she was a little surprised to see the concern and unease in his eyes.

  “Tell me about your life, Hailey. Because there’s so much I clearly don’t know.”

  She gave a humorless laugh. “I’m pretty sure you don’t want to know, not to mention it would likely take all night.”

  “So invite me to dinner and we’ll start there. Neither of us works tomorrow, if I remember correctly.”

  “You seem awfully informed of my schedule.” She watched him through narrowed eyes. “And obsessed with my lasagna.”

  He grimaced. “Guilty. I’m starving and your dinner smells like heaven. I left the barbeque before dinner was served.”

  “What barbeque?”

  “Family one.”

  “Why? You didn’t like the food?”

  “I love a good burger, but I was bad company.” He hesitated. “My thoughts were on you. Anger. Frustration. The need to be inside you again—”

  “Oh.” She gasped and heat rose in her body at the images his words immediately conveyed.

  He caught her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “I needed to see you. To understand what was going on between us.”

  “Sex. Lust. That’s going on.”

  “Aye, those to be certain. But there’s more.” He traced small circles on the inside of her palm. “And I don’t quite understand it myself, but I’d like to try.”

  She drew in an unsteady breath. “You can stay for dinner. But I’m not promising more than that.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  Maybe she didn’t have to, but each teasing stroke of his finger was sending darts of need straight between her legs. The need rose swiftly in her, and suddenly she couldn’t have given a crap about her lasagna. She wanted to sweep the table clean of the placemats and just go at it on top.

  “Why don’t you let me set the table?”

  His soft suggestion meant that clearly his thoughts hadn’t gone to the dirty side.

  “Go for it.” She tugged her hand away and went to grab the potholders to pull the lasagna and bread from the oven.

  The next few minutes were almost domestic as they prepared the kitchen for dinner.

  “Do you have wine?” he asked.

  “No. Wait, actually yes.” She nodded to the fridge. “There’s a bottle of white in there that was a gift I recently opened.”

  He retrieved the bottle and then searched the glass cabinet.

  “I don’t have actual wine glasses, I really don’t drink that much.”

  “Not a problem. We’ll use these.”

  Her lips twitched as he pulled down two plastic Mickey Mouse tumblers and proceeded to fill them with wine.

  She didn’t protest, even knowing she wouldn’t drink much of hers.

  Soon they were seated with plates of food in front of them. When Colin dug into his and dropped any attempt at conversation, she could well believe he was hungrier than he’d let on.

  About ten minutes into eating, he finally laid down his fork and leaned back in his chair.

  “Did you make that yourself?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve not made it from a box or such?”

  “No.” She wrinkled her nose and stabbed another bite. “The boxed stuff is so bad for you, with all the salt and preservatives. If I can make something from scratch, I try to.”

  “It’s really quite fantastic, Hailey. You could be a chef.”

  “You’ve had one meal of mine, the rest could suck. Besides, I’d rather make my living helping to save people, not cooking for them.”

  She laughed, but couldn’t stop the flush of pleasure that came with his compliment. What was this? Bonding time?

  One glance at him through her lashes, though, showed he wasn’t look at the lasagna anymore, but at her.

  And the combination of heat and contemplation there sent her heart into another troubling tailspin.

  Chapter Ten

  Sitting across from Hailey, Colin could almost imagine her as a normal, sweet girl next door. She didn’t quite sit on the chair, but sat at an angle with one leg folded under her bottom. Her dark hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, and her makeup was minimal, if she wore any at all.

  While he assumed she’d gotten off work recently, she’d clearly changed out of her scrubs and into black leggings and a tank top that looked much too big for her.

  Yet the overall combination left her casually sexy, not to mention she’d just cooked him the best damn lasagna he’d ever tried.

  He watched her lift her cup and take a tiny sip of wine before setting it back down.

  Those cups were a puzzle too. Fun and youthful, and not the least what he’d associate with Hailey. She confused him. Fascinated him. Frustrated him. On so many levels.

  Right now, quite a bit sexually.

  “Tell me about your family, what it was like growing up.” He needed the distraction, or he’d be tempted to disregard the rest of dinner, stride around the table to grab her, and then carry her off to the bedroom.

  “My family,” she repeated, the spark dying from her words.

  “Aye.”

  “You want the whole sordid story? It’s, um, not really an upper of a conversation.”

  “Maybe not, but I’d still like to hear about it.”

  “Well, you already know a bunch, I’m sure.” She bit her lip and shook her head, giving a short, humorless laugh. “You’ve probably dealt with them on the job.”

  He nodded, not bothering to deny it.

  Her mouth twisted into a sad, bitter smile as she poked at her lasagna with a fork. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up now, because her appetite seemed to be lost.

  “My parents were poor, and what money they did have they spent on drugs. They never should’ve had kids, but then that’s how it tends to work, right? Birth control isn’t exactly at the forefront of a crackhead’s mind.”

  Shite, but she was candid.

  “I was the first mistake, and then six years later my brother became the second.” She made no attempt to eat now, pushing her plate aside. “My mom tried to straighten out for a year or two after each pregnancy—mother’s instinct and all, I guess. I know she wanted to change, but she always fell back off the wagon.”

  Colin could almost envision it. The filthy conditions of the house, the soiled diapers and malnourished children. He’d seen it firsthand on more than one occasion.

  “How did the state not remove you from the home?”

  “We fell through the cracks, for the most part. Like so many kids do.” Folding her arms across her chest, she leaned back in her chair and stared at the table. “And maybe because I raised Nick more than my mother did. I tried to make things normal at home. I was only in second grade, but I was changing his diapers, making sure he got something to eat, all while my parents were in the living room smoking crack cocaine.”

  Jesus. She’d been a baby herself, younger than Emily, taking care of a toddler. Her words made him a little nauseated, horrified, but he struggled not to show it as he slipped into deputy mode. Keeping his expression without judgment and mostly unreadable.

  He reached for his wine, thinking he needed it a little more now to deal with this conversation. And, yet, Hailey didn’t even touch hers. Had barely touched hers all night, actually.

  “There were a few times when neighbors would try to help and report us.”

  “And nothing ever resulted of it?”

  “One time, yes. My dad finally left us. My mom was really struggling and trying to get her shit together. But CPS removed us from our home and separated us in foster care for over a year.”

  That was good, right? Though it sounded like they hadn’t stayed in foster care.

  “But your mother ultimately got you b
ack?” he guessed.

  “Yeah.”

  What would’ve happened if they’d stayed in the system? Been given a bit of a chance at life?

  “Foster care was no picnic,” she said quietly, as if reading his mind. “My foster family had a son a few years older than me…and let’s just say I had to sleep with a kitchen knife to make sure he kept his distance.”

  The shock and nausea inside him turned to fury. “You’ve got to bloody be joking? How old were you?”

  “Thirteen.” She finally glanced up at him and her gaze flashed with anger similar to what he felt. “When my mother was given custody again—when she’d supposedly cleaned up her act—I vowed I’d never go back into the system.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “Yeah, well, my brother did.” She pulled her ponytail forward and started toying with the dark strands of hair. “He resented returning to my mom, even if…”

  “Even if what?”

  “Even if he adored me.” Her voice broke a little, and he knew how hard it was for her to talk about this.

  When he’d asked to hear about her past, he hadn’t expected her to be so forthcoming. Maybe she was deliberately trying to shock him. If so, she was doing a bloody good job. He had a pretty good sense of when someone was lying, and there could be no faking the kind of emotion Hailey was projecting.

  “Your brother’s experience wasn’t as terrifying as yours, I suspect?”

  “No. His foster family was much different than mine. He was with people who gave him love, attention, protection. I mean, compare that to a run-down home where the closest thing he had to a functioning mom was a young teenager.” She scooted back her chair and stood up, grabbing her plate. “Sometimes I think I was just being selfish to try and keep us together.”

  She’d been almost a child herself. If Colin put himself in her place—if it had been his siblings facing the threat of being separated or in foster care—then, aye, he would’ve done the same.

  “There’s no guarantee he would’ve been better off.” He stood, following her lead and taking his plate to the sink. “The system, as you well learned, is not flawless. Besides, if the courts decided to return you both to your mother, it was out of your hands.”