"I'll be seeing you soon."
The conviction in his deep voice had her turning to stare at him for a few seconds, before hurrying off.
"Struck out, did you, mate?" Bobby grinned, wide face creasing as he came back around the counter. "The lady looked seriously pissed when she left."
"She'll get over it." With a wide grin, he nodded to a regular and started building a pint. "I think I've just met my soul mate, and the mother of my children."
The last thing on Kiara's mind was the gorgeous bartender. After leaving the bar the night before, she had gone home to bury herself in work. She had a deadline coming up and had been unable to concentrate on her writing.
It wasn't writer's block at all. If that was the case, she could have dealt. Her mother was getting more and more under her skin.
Pushing away from the desk, she scraped the waist length braids and twisted them into a knot, piling the heavy mass on top ofher head. Wrapping the old and comfortable robe more securely around her, she went into the tidy little kitchen to make herself a pot of tea.
Her house always surprised people and even her editor who was her best friend.
"Honey, you're raking in the big dough. Two books made into a series and three more on the NY bestsellers list and you live like this."
They didn't understand that she liked the coziness, the quaint cottage like structure had caught her eye and held it for more than one reason. It was private and had a huge yard. She needed the space to help her creative juices to flow. She loved gardening, considered it another form of creative outlet.
It was early spring. The winter had dragged its icy feet, the first three months of the year had been filled with snow storms, icy temperatures, so much so that at times it felt as if one was inhaling glass. The temperature was still a little too low for spring, with the forecaster warning that there still might be some snow left yet, but she was hopeful.
Plucking the kettle off the stove, she turned the knob off and poured the steaming water over the pouch. Her effort to push her mother's cruel words away had not succeeded.
Sitting on the stool, she blew at the steam and closed her eyes briefly.
Her therapist had told her that she was still seeking her mother's approval. Something she had not wanted to hear. She was a grown ass woman of twenty-eight and was successful in her own right.
She had been a respectable historian. Hadn't she held a prestigious position at an exclusive private college imparting knowledge to eager minds? The first and only black woman to hold the position of head of the history department at that particular institute of higher learning.
But had that impressed her mother? Had it gained her the respect she deserved from the woman who had given her birth? She mused bitterly and sipped. Of course not. Nothing she did pleased Dr. Victoria Landan, and she was starting to painfully realize that it did not matter what she did.
She could have been the first woman on the moon or the one to find the cure for cancer and it would not have made a difference.
Her mother did not love her and when confronted with that accusation, she had turned even colder and more distant. She had not answered the question directly, only repeating what Kiara had heard her say a dozen times growing up.
That she had been forced into a marriage she did not want because she had been careless enough to get pregnant. But she had done her duty, hadn't she? Hadn't she borne the rigors of a difficult pregnancy that culminated in the long and arduous twelve hour labor that brought her into the world? Wasn't that enough for her to be grateful for?
"No, mother." Kiara muttered, taking another sip of the tea, which so far had not managed to calm her down. "A child needs to know she was not put on this world out of a sense of duty."
Sighing softly, she put away the cup and decided to try and get some sleep.
She was so focused on tugging on the stubborn dandelions, sneaking between her freesias, that she failed to hear the vehicle pull to a stop at her gate. It was the sound of the gate creaking open that alerted her she had company.
Lifting her head, she narrowed her eyes as the familiar figure came strolling along her cobbled driveway as if he belonged there. The enormous nerve of the man!
Firming her lips, she shoved to her feet, eyes blazing.
"I could say I was just in the neighborhood, but you're too far out for that to be true." His charming grin slid off her like water off a duck's back. "So, I'll just be honest and say that I went out of my way to get your address from your agent." His eyes flickered over the floppy edged straw hat covering her braids. "Love the outfit."
She was wearing an oversized flannel shirt and baggy jogging pants. And still managed to look completely adorable.
"This is bordering on harassment." Her chin lifted, eyes frosty. "Am I going to have to call the cops on you?"
Rocking back on his heels, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his faded denims.
"It might have to come to that. Your garden is a sight." He nodded towards a clumping of cheerful daffodils. "My mother would love seeing these. Your blurb did say you were an avid gardener and loved to relax among your plants. I thought it was exaggerated."
He cocked his head to stare at her, lips curving as he studied her furious expression.
