“Keren!” he said, noticing the straight black hair that reminded him of Pocahontas. “How’s your new dental nurse?”
Keren paused, looking confused. Then she saw the hand on his arm and her expression altered into one containing devilish mirth.
“I didn’t realise Kiefer was your type,” she said. “Although I’m pretty sure you’re his. He was all for offering his services for a home visit to make sure you were okay after the extraction.” Her smile was as sweet as cyanide.
Scott gently but swiftly moved his hand away. “I was wondering if he’d met Will actually.” He hated saying it. There were plenty of gay couples in Severton and assuming that Will would be interested in Kiefer or vice versa was poor form.
Keren tipped her head and looked at him, this time looking amused with no untoward motivation this time.
“I think Kiefer is kind of seeing someone, but like with most people in their twenties, ‘it’s complicated’.” She pulled her hair back from her face and frowned.
“I heard you were dating that lovely handsome new accountant,” Carole said. “You got in there quick.”
Scott stood a little straighter, taller, and folded his arms, waiting for her response. She might have kidded herself straight after they’d kissed, but it wastheywho had kissed. Not Keren and Oliver. He wasn’t sure who’d started it but she’d been just as eager as him.
“We’ve been out a couple of times. Speaking of which, I was just getting him another beer.” She gave Carole a smile that was the perfect advert for her profession.
Muscles in his face and back tightened and the grin he’d fixed on his face began to fade. Keren wasn’t a cheater and from what he’d seen in the bar, there had been about the same amount of chemistry between her and Oliver as there was between him and Cocoa the alpaca.
“Keren, can I speak to you?” he said, abruptly leaving Carole. No doubt he’d hear through the rumour mill that he’d chased after her. By Monday, Severton would have a new love triangle to analyse in the Post Office.
Keren turned round, her eyes gleaming. The tip of her tongue touched her top lip and Scott froze, wondering how her tongue would feel trailing somewhere else. On him.
“What?”
“Just come in here with me for a moment,” he said, pushing down the handle of a door. He had no idea what was behind it, not having had the guided tour yet.
“Why? You spend more than a decade avoiding me and now you want to get me on my own?” she said. He saw her nails digging into the palms of her hands.
“Give me three minutes,” he said. “Less. I won’t use too many words and I won’t insult you.”
“Must be serious. Do you have an incurable disease?”
“Only if it’s called Keren Leigh.”
He opened the door into what was the small study, neatly organised as was Sorrell’s way. She followed him in and closed the door behind her, leaning against it.
He figured she was looking for a quick way out should he piss her off, which he didn’t want to do but had no idea how to say what he was thinking without annoying the shit out of her.
“What?” she said.
He was suddenly too aware of how her breasts looks in the sweater she wore and the jeans that showcased her hips. It was nothing new: he’d been aware of her since they were kids.
She’d denied what she’d said about him. She hadn’t laughed at the idea of him asking her out, according to her. But not according to his cousin.
“Oliver,” he said. “This is going to come out wrong.”
“Then don’t say it then.”
Scott shook his head, snapping a band to keep his hair back, something to do with his hands that felt extra-large and clumsy. “I can’t. Oliver is a really good bloke. He’s decent and I’m not warning you off him, but when we kissed…”
“When you kissed me…”
He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her.
“Whenyoukissed me…” she repeated.
“I think it was fifty-fifty on who started it, honey. Butifit was me, you definitely kissed back. And this was after yourdatewith Oliver,” he said, saying the words slowly and trying to not sound too sarcastic.
