“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m waiting on the private investigator I hired to find information on a couple that might be my biological parents. If they’re bad news, no matter how much I want to know who my brother is, I wouldn’t want him to be hurt by that.”
“I remember you mentioning the private detective before. That can’t be cheap.” I blow on the cocoa.
Kannen watches my lips for a second and it causes a nervous flutter in my stomach.
He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, it’s not, and I’ve got to be careful with every dollar since buying the ranch.”
Rumor has it that he’s working to fix up a neglected ranch house that I love.
I love the land it sits on, too. I used to sneak away to go there in high school when things were chaotic at home. I found peace and used to pretend it was my home where there were no such things as slamming doors followed by my mother crying well into the night.
“There were some better options for sale. What made you decide to buy one that needs so much work?”
“I have my reasons,” he says, still watching me closely.
And for one breath holding moment, I imagine I see a family chasing fireflies and laughter filled nights in his eyes. I see simple country mornings and blue skies. I see happiness and peace. Not literally seeing but like I’m catching a glimpse of his dream.
I once had that dream, too. Family. Happily ever after. Peace. And I have to look away from his gaze because seeing the longing for it in his eyes makes my heart ache for him. I hope he’s one of the lucky ones and his dreams come true.
“What’s on the list after signing up the vendors?” he asks, still watching me intently like I fascinate him.
“Finding a group to perform for the live music show.”
“Then?”
I scan Miss Ethel’s notes but can’t find what I’m looking for. “I thought I saw it right here.” I flip through them.
Kannen stands and walks around to my side. Leaning close, with his palm on the table, he reads over my shoulder. I close my eyes for a second to drink in his nearness and the scent of his cologne. It’s warm and sensual. I press my hand to my forehead.
“Headache?”
“No, just some tension.” Mainly because his cock is at eye level and I’m coming down with a worsening case of wanting that.
“Where?”
“In my shoulders,” I lie.
“Want me to massage them?” he asks quietly.
Yes, I do and that’s not all I want you to massage. I’m going to tell him no. I should tell him no. “That’d be great,” I say.
His hands are big and warm as they press gently down on my shoulders. His fingers make magic on my skin. I bow my head and a soft moan escapes my lips.
He stills. “Did I hurt you?”
“Not at all.” Is that croak my voice? It sounded like I swallowed a bullfrog.
He resumes the massage, moving to the edge of my shoulders. I lean my head back and close my eyes for a second. When I open them, he’s looking down at me.
I wet my lips and he runs his hands down the sides of my arms.
“Good?” His voice is huskier than before.
Good? Not by a long shot. Heat curls between my legs and I’m sitting here in soaked panties wishing I had the courage to stand up. Wishing I could press my lips to his and let that lead to our bodies sliding heatedly over each other. But I know better.
Exactly, my brain informs me while recalling the pain I went through.
