Sweet Peril (The Sweet Trilogy #2)

I was no goddess, but a look like that from Kaidan Rowe would make any girl feel empowered. A dangerous thrill passed through me, imagining how wound up he must be from not working, and how a single action from me could make him swoop down and attack. And yet, I wasn’t done torturing him. It was cruel and risky, but I didn’t care.

Playing it cooler than I ever had in my life, I gave him one last sweltering look before bending down and slowly picking up my wet clothes, then sauntering over to retrieve my bag and heading toward the bungalow area, all the while feeling the heat of his eyes. When I heard the groan that my retreating backside elicited from deep within him, I swung my hips a little more.

God forgive me, but it felt good.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

HEIGHTS

Lunch started off tense after our heated moment. Thank goodness for Blake. Kai was warm toward him, reserving his coolness for me. I watched, keeping quiet. They fought over the last piece of General Tso’s shrimp, and I had to laugh when the little thing went flying in the air and landed in a wet footprint next to the pool.

“You can have it,” Kaidan graciously offered, and Blake shoved him one last time.

“I gotta go test out the new dirt bike before my race tomorrow,” Blake said. “What are you two gonna do today?”

We managed a brief glance at each other, both shrugging.

“When are you leaving?” Blake asked me.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“And then the Dukes will be heading home the next day,” Blake mulled. It was rare and extremely nice to have a couple of days with no fear of lurking Dukes or whisperers. Blake ran a hand through his hair and looked back and forth between the two of us. “Want to see the bike?”

We walked around the house to the garage, where Blake pressed a code on a keypad to open the doors. One half of the massive garage was thrill-seeker central. There were toys for every extreme sport imaginable: snow skis, water skis, snowboards, dirt bikes, a four-wheeler, Jet Skis, helmets, and all sorts of gear for hiking and mountain climbing.

“All you need in here is an airplane,” I told him.

“I’m working on that.” Blake smiled and began to wheel out a shiny black dirt bike. “They just delivered it yesterday.” He grabbed a leather riding jacket from the wall, put it on, and climbed astride the bike. It revved insanely loud.

“No helmet?” I hollered over the whine of engine.

“Nah! Not on my land. See ya!” I jumped back as he took off, speeding into a brush of brambles and kicking up a cloud of dust.

Kaidan and I stood there, staring at the place where our buffer person had disappeared and listening as the bike zoomed farther away. Several tense beats passed, both of us looking around the garage.

He cleared his throat. “We could take a walk,” he suggested. “If you’d like.”

“Sure.” We walked back around the house, down the many steps onto the sand until we were at that wonderful place where water met land.

“Ack!” I screamed as a wave washed over my feet and ankles. “It’s freezing!”

He smirked to himself. It was hot enough outside to offset the cold water, so after a few minutes I got used to it.

Together we walked in the surf, leaving our footprints in the sand. Neither of us spoke. We passed a man and a pregnant woman holding hands. Her free hand rested on top of the baby bump. They smiled in passing, and as I returned the gesture a powerful longing hit me. My hand brushed Kai’s, certain I’d felt his own fingers curl instinctively before we both pulled our arms away. Empty.

I didn’t know where to start with him. Too much hurt was between us, like a giant pile of rubble blocking our way.

“I heard your band’s first single.”

He looked at me with surprise and, if I didn’t know any better, shyness, too. His hair shielded part of his eyes when he asked, “Did you?”

“Jay’s interning at a radio station now, so he got his hands on it. It’s good. Are you having fun doing the recordings and stuff?”

He shrugged. “Music used to be my one escape. Playing was the only time I could forget everything.”

But it wasn’t anymore? His jaw clamped shut as if he’d said too much. All this time I’d been thinking at least he had his band and drumming to ease his mind. But he was worse off than I’d imagined.

He ran his hands through his hair several times, then shoved them in his swim trunk pockets and let the locks fall around his face as he peered down at the sand. We sidestepped a huge cloudy-looking glob.

“What is that?” I asked.

“Jellyfish.”

Silence again. We walked for a long time. Thank goodness for the distraction of waves and squawking seagulls because the tension and hurt between us was brutal. I wished I knew how to mend it. I wanted to ask him about working, and the Valentine’s Day visit, but we’d need to build up to that.