Killian: A West Bend Saints Romance (24 page)

I
tell
myself to just text him already, but I don't. I distract myself by talking on the phone to Chloe and my parents, who pointedly ask about the bakery when I really know they want to ask about Killian, but I don't bring it up. Chloe is excited to tell me that she's having a "fabulous" time and that Nana and Pop-Pop let her eat cereal with marshmallows for breakfast.

"Don't let her eat marshmallows for breakfast!" I warn.

"
You
ate marshmallow cereal for breakfast when you were her age," my mother says.

"She's going to be bouncing off the walls."

"It's okay. Your father's going to take her out this afternoon. They put in an arcade in that shopping plaza over by the Chinese restaurant."

"So you're feeding her marshmallows and letting her play video games?"

"I want to stay here
forever
!" Chloe yells. "But I love you!"

"Of course you do. I love you too, Chloe."

"Oh, she just darted off toward the kitchen," my mother says. "I should go after her before she grabs that pan of brownies off the counter. You know, you're there all alone for a week. I hope you decide to. . . use your time
wisely
."

By "wisely
"
, she means hooking up with Killian, I'm sure.

"Why don't you go grab Chloe before you find her covered in brownie on the kitchen floor?"

"We're going to be back next week and we're looking forward to meeting him."

"Mom, go!"

* * *

T
he knock
on the front door jolts me awake.
Shit, how long have I been napping?
I only closed my eyes for a second. I was planning to call the insurance company again before going back down to the store to finish going through and testing appliances. CJ over at the diner was thankfully able to help me unload the freezer and put the contents in her restaurant, although I don't know how I'll be able to use the inventory now. I might be able to work out of the house, or arrange with CJ to use her oven. Or something.

The last person I expect to see when I open the door is Killian. He's standing there with his thumbs looped into the pockets of his jeans, wearing a faded brown t-shirt and boots, and the only thing I can think about when I look at him is the way his hands would feel moving across my skin, his lips crushing mine, his

My hand flies to my face. I think the arm of the sofa is imprinted onto my cheek. I might have been drooling.

"Get in my truck," Killian orders.

"What? You're going to drive up here after a week – no, ten days of hearing nothing from you, and then tell me to get in your truck?
No
."

"It wasn't a question."

"I don't doubt it. I also wasn't joking when I said
no
."

"Woman, just – do I have to pick you up and put you in my truck?"

I cross my arms, my face flushing warm because I remember the last time Killian picked me up and slung me over his shoulder, naked, his fingers between my legs. He must see the expression on my face because he steps close to me and looks down at me, his eyes smoldering. I inhale sharply at his proximity, heat flooding my body. "Try it," I dare him.

I hold my breath, my heart racing not because I don't want him to do it. It's because I
want
him to do it. Every part of me wants to tell him to pick me up and carry me straight inside the house so he can tear my clothes off and fuck me hard against the wall. We wouldn't make it farther than the front door, I know that much.

Killian growls. "Just for once, will you not give me any damn grief? I came up here because I need to show you something."

My heart pounds wildly. "Something with the store?" I don't need any more bad news.

"Sort of. Just get in the truck already and stop making me feel like I'm kidnapping you."

I roll my eyes. "Fine."

"Fine."

I follow him to his truck and get inside, sitting with my arms crossed and silently looking out the window the entire drive. I'm acutely aware of the fact that I'm sitting in his truck like a petulant child. But he's not exactly behaving in a less stubborn way than usual, either. So that makes two of us.

"You passed the bakery," I point out as he drives a block further down Main Street and turns right onto one of the side streets.

"I know." He pulls the truck over and gets out, pulling open the passenger door. "I'm taking you here instead."

I follow him out of sheer morbid curiosity – and because his ass looks great in those jeans – as he unlocks the door and swings it open.

"Okay?" I ask, looking around. It's an empty space. A gorgeous empty space with hardwood floors and large windows and walls painted white with just a hint of blue. And I don't know why I'm standing here.

"What do you think?" Killian asks. He looks almost… giddy, like a kid on Christmas morning.

"What do you mean, what do I think?"

"About the space. It's pretty great, right? The floors are original, and the painting guys were able to get done so quickly." He takes long strides, saying something about the origins of the building, and I walk behind him.

"I don't need a new lease, Killian. The insurance company hasn't even begun to pay for my equipment that was –" I stop short when he leads me into the kitchen.

It's… fantastic. It's the most fantastic thing I've ever seen. The floor is black-and-white tile, and there are appliances. So many appliances. Gleaming, brand new, top-of-the-line appliances. There are even two walk-in freezers and a brand new refrigerator.

"Holy shit." I'm practically walking on air as I race through the kitchen. "I looked at this fridge when I was shopping for a new one. Do you know what this is? It's like the best model there is. It's so fucking expensive. Oh my God. There's food in the fridge, and there's flour and how the hell did you find a lease with all of this stuff in it in West Bend? Who was in this store before? It's like my dream kitchen!" I take a breath, because I'm so damn excited that I must be talking a mile a minute. Then I stop short, directly in front of Killian, my heart sinking as I realize. "There's no way I can afford the rent on a place like this."

"I know." Killian takes my hand and puts a set of keys in it. "That's why it's yours."

"I don't understand."

"I bought it. It's yours. Well, it's not yours quite yet. The deed will have to be transferred to you, and the accountant says we need to talk about taxes or something, but those are details. The point is that it's yours."

My head is spinning. "What are you talking about?"

"I bought it for you," Killian says.

"You bought me a bakery," I say, my voice flat. "You bought me a
bakery
?"

"Yes."

"With all of this – the kitchen and everything – you did this?" My blood pumps loudly in my ears.

"Yeah. I rushed everything in from Grand Junction and it really came together. I went and looked at what you had in your kitchen at the bakery and just got better versions of everything. And more of them."

"Are you insane?"

"
I
was hoping
for something more along the lines of – 'T
his is so awesome, Killian
!' The way you reacted before, when you first walked into the kitchen."

"Have you lost your mind?" she says, her voice rising.

"Look. You needed a new bakery, so I bought one." That came out more flippant than I intended it to.

"Oh, you just bought one? You went out and
bought a bakery
? With all of this stuff?" She puts a hand on her hip, her other hand gesturing wildly, her breasts rising and falling under that t-shirt as she yells at me.

I want to tell her that it's over I'm not fighting with her. I'm taking her back to my cabin where she belongs. Or to her house. Wherever. I'm not picky. "Yeah. I bought a bakery."

"Did nothing that I said sink in, about how you waltz into my life and start throwing your weight around, trying to rescue me when I don't need your damn rescuing?"

"I heard what you said," I tell her.

"No! You obviously didn't, because you went and
bought me a damn store
. Who does that?"

"I
heard
what you said about not rescuing you. I just didn't care."

"You just didn't care?"

"No."

Lily's nostrils are flaring again, her face flushed and I want my mouth on hers. "I don't know what kind of craziness this is, or why you want me to be indebted to you, but –"

"I'm not trying to get you to be indebted to me. Now
you're
being insane. It's a gift."

"People don't gift each other
stores
, Killian! They give each other flowers, or a gift card, or maybe a sweater –"

"A sweater? Who gives you a sweater? That's a terrible gift."

"That is not my point! My point is that
no one
gifts someone a bakery. No one normal, anyway." She pauses, her chest heaving, and thrusts the keys to the store at me, shoving them hard against my chest. "Take back your keys. And these appliances. And all of this stuff."

"No," I say, my voice firm.

"What do you mean, '
no'
? I'm not accepting this."

"Yeah. You are. I'm not taking the keys back. You need this place and you're going to stop being so stubborn and listen to reason. I'm giving it to you, free and clear. You can date me or not. Fuck, you can hate me, for all I care. But I'm giving it to you for purely selfish reasons."

She looks up to me with her jaw set, and I want to kiss her more than anything. I'd forgotten how it felt when I first met her, how she looked when she'd stand so close to me in the kitchen, angry at me for interfering with the bakery. And making lewd comments. And ogling her. "I'm not being stubborn," she says. "I don't want to know what selfish reasons you have for this insane gesture because, so help me, if you tell me it's to get back in my pants –"

"Damn it, woman," I growl, exasperated. "There's no place else in this town to get a fucking iced coffee that doesn't taste like shit, okay? And I want a damn iced coffee."

Lily narrows her eyes. "You want an iced coffee. So you bought a coffee shop and bakery."

"I want an iced coffee from the girl in the checkered apron with the ponytail who gives me shit about – hell, every fucking thing imaginable. I want an iced coffee from the girl who makes the cabin in the woods that I
thought
was the best place on earth feel so damn empty that I've been crawling the walls since she stopped talking to me. I want an iced coffee from the girl who makes me laugh. And who's so fucking stubborn and independent and never listens to reason and won't take any help from anyone because she's too proud, but she's also talented and gentle and kind and. . . raising a kid who's funny as hell and just like her."

I take a breath. I can't read the expression on her face, but fuck it, because I'm going to say what I want to say anyway: "I want a damn iced coffee from the girl I love."

"Killian, I –"

"So you see why I can't just go get an iced coffee anywhere else? It has to be from you."

* * *

He's close to me, his eyes simultaneously demanding and pleading, and my entire body screams for him to touch me, to put his mouth on me and claim me as his. Except I'm confused and have a thousand questions like how the hell does he buy a store, anyway? And I'm scared, so scared to leap. And I'm mad. "Damn it, Killian!"

"What?" His voice is low, his body close to mine, almost touching.

"You're so fucking infuriating. You're so arrogant and pigheaded and you're a thousand times more stubborn than I could possibly be, even if I didn't listen to reason, which I totally do! I just don't listen to your ideas necessarily because they're crazy sometimes – like the bakery rules. You're reckless. And gruff. And inappropriate – so inappropriate. And then you go and have to be such a damn softie and, hell, I don't know whether I want to kiss you or shove you into a pond half the time –"

"Shove me into a pond? In the park?"

"Or wherever the nearest body of water is. The location is beside the point. The point is that I don't know how the hell you do this to me. I'm mad at you and then you go and do something so much more extreme and ridiculous than the thing I was mad at you for and turn it all around so that I wind up loving you for it!” My finger punctuates his chest for emphasis.

Killian wraps his fingers around my wrist, his other hand flying to the small of my back, then lower, cupping my ass and holding me tightly against him. "Say that again."

"I can't remember what I just said." I think I'm dizzy – from adrenaline or lust or fear of the unknown – but all I want is to feel him against me. I want these damn clothes off. I want to feel his skin on mine.

"You said you love me." His voice is thick.

"No, I said you
make
me love you."

He pulls my shirt over my head and throws it on the floor, his hands moving immediately to my jeans. "Same difference."

"Hardly." I kick off my sandals and they go flying across the tile floor.

He tugs my jeans around my hips and pulls them over my legs. "Will you stop talking already?"

"I'm never going to let you just dictate what I do, you know." I pull at his shirt, throwing it across the room. "Not without a fight."

Killian reaches for my hair, pulling my head back so that my face is upturned. My lips fall open and I whimper, but not because it hurts. It's because I want him so desperately inside me. "That's fine," he growls. "The fighting is foreplay."

He brings his mouth down hard on mine before I can tell him that's exactly what Opal said, and then it's forgotten in the midst of his bruising kisses. He kisses me and kisses me, his hand squeezing my breast roughly through my bra and I don't want to wait anymore because he's right. The argument has been foreplay, and I'm ready.

I fumble with the button on his jeans, and he pulls away from my mouth to unzip. Pushing his jeans down, I take his cock in my hand – holding it, not stroking it. "Now."

It's all I say, and he lets out a groan, picking me up and setting me on the nearest surface – a stainless steel countertop that's freezing cold against my skin but I don't care. All I want is him.

And that's what I get. I get all of him. He slips easily inside my slick pussy as I wrap my legs around his waist, my palms moving over his chest and trying to take all of him in. His hand tugging at my ponytail, ensuring that my eyes meet his as he thrusts inside me, looking away only to kiss under my earlobe and along my jaw before crushing my mouth again with his.

Nothing about this is slow or steady. It's frantic, messy, and passionate – Killian thrusting inside me, bare, skin against skin. My hands are at his neck, desperately needing him closer.

"I missed this," he says, low in my ear. "I missed this tight, warm, wet pussy."

I arch to meet him with every thrust, my body on edge as he fucks me harder. "Oh God, I missed you being inside me."

"Tell me you missed me coming inside you, Lily. Tell me you missed the feeling of me filling up this sweet pussy. Because I need to feel you come on my cock."

"Killian," I moan. "Yes."

Thrust.

"Yes."

Thrust.

"I missed feeling your cock inside me."

"I missed feeling your pussy tighten, hearing you scream my name. I missed letting go of every last drop inside y–"

"Killian!" I don't say his name, I scream it loud and long as his filthy words send me hurtling over the edge. His hands on my ass, he pulls me tight as he fucks me faster, his finger pushing against my asshole and sending unbelievable waves of pleasure through me.

He comes hard, thrusting into me with a long groan, and warmth floods me as he lets go inside me, filling me up with his cum. After, I hang onto him, my forehead against his chest, the bakery quiet except for the sounds of our breathing.

Then Killian's chest starts shaking, sending vibrations rippling down my body. When I look up, he's laughing.

"What?" I ask.

"What's a guy have to do to get a damn iced coffee around here, anyway?"

I slap him hard on the arm.