“I’ll take hot.” I don’t add the rest of what I’m thinking, which is that Killian definitely looks hot, standing on my front porch in faded jeans and a heather grey t-shirt. Jeans and a t-shirt seem to be as much as Killian gets dressed up for anything, which is okay with me, because he looks damn fine in them.
I must be staring scratch that, I know I'm staring. In fact, there's a distinct possibility that my mouth is actually hanging open and I'm drooling as I blatantly ogle him. I can hardly be blamed for that, though, not with the way the grey in the t-shirt sets off his eyes and the way the fabric pulls across his chest.
Killian clears his throat, shaking me out of my trance. "Obviously the feeling is mutual."
Heat warms my cheeks. "Oh, shut up."
He shrugs. "I'm used to the ogling. It's not easy being this good-looking."
I roll my eyes. "Or modest."
"I never said I was modest, cupcake."
"If there's one thing you aren't, it's disingenuous."
"I hope you're not going to use your ten-dollar words all night." A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.
"Don't worry. I'll tone it down just for you."
"Much appreciated, ma'am." He slides his thumbs through belt loops on his jeans and gives me a cocky grin, sending a tingle of electricity through me that heads directly for its destination between my legs. Clearing my throat, I turn around and put the key in the door to hide the flush I'm sure is evident on my cheeks. Calling me "ma'am" in that drawl and then standing there grinning at me like that? If I don't lock the door, I'm not sure we'll actually make it out of the house tonight.
Which might not be so bad, now that I think about it. The thought of going somewhere in public with Killian effectively a public service announcement to all residents of West Bend: "Killian Saint and I are officially dating!" makes me nervous.
Screw nervous; it makes me petrified.
"You've been standing there with the key in the lock now for a good minute," Killian points out. "You didn't just fall asleep, did you?"
Taking a deep breath, I spin around and force a smile. "No. I'm fine. Are you ready?"
"Whoa, now. You look like you're about to be put in front of a firing squad."
"I do not." I smooth the dress I'm wearing and step down from the porch, averting my eyes as I pass Killian on the way to his truck. "Are you coming?"
He opens the passenger side door for me and I climb inside. Thankfully, he doesn't press the subject. At least, not until we're a couple of miles down the road and passing the turn-off to Main Street, which is where pretty much all of the restaurants in West Bend are located.
"We're not going downtown?" I ask.
Killian snorts. "I'm not that stupid, cupcake."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"If I take you downtown, the old ladies in West Bend will be planning our wedding before the week's out."
"Oh." I exhale a huge sigh.
Killian laughs. "I don't think you're supposed to be so relieved."
"Did you hear that? I didn't think I sighed that loudly."
"Trust me, I think everyone in town heard that."
I stick out my tongue at him. "Whatever."
"Your maturity is really impressive."
"I spend most of my time with a seven-year-old. I've adopted her mode of communication."
"Is Chloe at Opal's tonight?"
"Yes. So my clock expires at midnight."
"That's very princess-like of you."
"This would make you the prince in this scenario, right?"
"I don't think anyone would confuse me with Prince Charming."
"Maybe the Beast."
"Is that the same story?" Killian turns down the highway - everyone here calls it a highway even though it’s nothing more than a two-lane road heading out of town - and I mean to ask where we’re going exactly, but I don’t.
"Don't you know your fairytales?" I tease.
Killian laughs. "I think it's very safe to assume that the answer to that question is definitely fuck no."
"Except you know who the Beast was."
"A misunderstood loner living by himself in a castle? I empathize with him."
I snort. "So you fancy yourself misunderstood?"
"I have many layers. Like an onion,” he says, his tone indignant.
"You're smelly and you make people cry?"
"Tell me you haven't cried over me."
I sniff. "You're awfully full of yourself, aren't you? You think I've cried over you?"
"With frustration?"
I choke back a laugh. "Okay, I can imagine you drive lots of people to sob with frustration."
"Exactly."
"But not me,” I add.
"Not even when I put the rules up at the bakery?"
"Were you trying to make me cry?"
"Of course not. I'm just saying that you were probably pretty frustrated, obviously because of your intense sexual attraction to me. Having to be around a man this intoxicatingly good-looking really had to be difficult."
"Yes, that was clearly the source of my frustration."
“It’s hard to lust after something you can’t have.”
I snort. “I’m pretty sure I could have had you any time I wanted, caveman.”
“Just so we’re clear, cupcake,” he says, glancing over at me with a grin, “you can have me anytime, anywhere.”
He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively before turning his attention back to the road.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You’re supposed to say, ‘Likewise, caveman.'”
31
Killian