I hated them. And I hated being weak. But I refused to give this part of me to Derrek. He’d taken so much. He didn’t get to take my sense of peace either, my ability to be normal and interact with other people. But it was easy with Killian, easier than I expected. He made me feel normal again. Safe.
Killian stepped closer, demanding my attention. His body heat swept over me like a tidal wave, covering me completely, all at once. I swallowed so loudly he had to have heard it. “You’re all mystery, Vera. Half-truths and bold statements, but you hide everything about you.” His grip around my wrist tightened, demanding my attention. I looked into his eyes, but it turned out to be a mistake. He was too intense. Too overwhelming. He was everything hot and exciting, interesting and new. I wanted to get to know him. And I wanted to be known by him. “Tell me something real,” he demanded.
I should have walked away. I should have turned around and ignored him for the rest of the day. For the rest of forever. But instead, I told him the truth. The stupid, ugly truth. “The food truck wasn’t ever something I wanted. I pictured myself like you. I wanted the big kitchen. The acclaimed restaurant. I wanted a staff and name recognition and all of it. I wanted everything. Instead, I got a five-foot galley and twelve hundred Facebook likes. I don’t have any clue what I’m doing. And I moved back home with my dad. I’m twenty-six years old, and I live at home.” The words left my mouth in a rush of confession and connection. I felt him absorb them, take them in and get to know me. I felt this tug between us grow tauter.
I wanted to take them all back, erase the closeness between us. I wanted to remember that I was done with men. That falling for Killian would only hurt me.
Hurt my career.
But I couldn’t. The damage was done. I saw it in his expression, the way his eyes warmed and softened and saw me—really, truly saw me. “If you want a restaurant, Vera, you could have one. You have more talent in your pinky than most chefs have their entire career. Why did you give up?”
“Can I help you guys find anything?”
The vendor’s voice broke the spell over both of us. We took an instinctive step back, neither of us realizing how close we stood.
I tugged my arm from Killian’s grasp and took another three steps away, thankful I didn’t have to answer his question.
“Lettuce,” I sounded breathless, shaken up.
And I was.
The vendor went over his different variations and their quality. I half listened. No, that was a lie. I tried to look like I was half listening while my brain tumbled in my head like it had been put on a dryer setting.
I finally picked out iceberg. It wasn’t the most inventive of greens, but it would braise well. I paid him and promised to come pick it up before he closed for the day.
Killian took over, grilling the guy like he had the first vendor. He asked no less than a thousand questions. I just watched him, mentally taking notes on everything he said.
He didn’t end up buying anything. The vendor was just as surprised as I was. Killian thanked him but didn’t make any promises to come back.
“Did I buy bad lettuce?” I asked when we’d turned away from the stand.
“There’s not a whole lot to lettuce. You’ll be fine.”
I stared at him. “What was wrong with everything else?”
He shrugged that casual one shoulder shrug. I wanted to whack-a-mole it. “Nothing is wrong with it. It’s just not… Here, I’ll show you.”
My poor battered heart lurched. His words felt heavier than our simple morning at a farmer’s market. I should have left.
Run away.
Instead, I did something simple and utterly irreversible, something that would be the beginning of the end for me. I didn’t walk away.
I let him show me.
Chapter Sixteen
Killian reached down and grabbed my hand, pulling me after him. I stared at our interlocked fingers for a minute while he weaved through cluttered aisles and clumps of shoppers inspecting produce as thoroughly as Killian had.
His hand wrapped around mine, hot with his body heat, strong with all those sinewy muscles. I shouldn’t have let him get his way so easily. I should have put up some kind of fight or stood up for myself or something, but I couldn’t do anything besides let him lead me.
My past had damaged me. This was something I was well aware of. But for whatever reason, Killian Quinn felt like healing.
My last year in Europe had been a buffet of available men; men that hadn’t been looking for something serious or committed. Men I could have used to help me move on after Derrek.
And I’d been unable to open myself up to any of them. I couldn’t risk being vulnerable with someone again. I couldn’t gamble with my heart and lose, falling right back into an old pattern. I couldn’t trust myself not to choose another loser.
So, I’d remained withdrawn, wholly focused on working on my craft. That’s what I should be doing now.
Instead, I let Killian drag me around without a fight. I couldn’t muster up the same fears that had poisoned me since Derrek.
I even, maybe just a little, felt safe with his hand holding mine.
Felt healthier than I had in years.
It was a stupid feeling to have. Dumb. Idiotic.
And yet there it was. I wasn’t afraid of Killian.
Not even a tiny bit.
The vendor saw us approach when we were still a few stalls away. She stepped from behind her crates of lush produce and smiled at Killian like he was the sun in her sky. She was an elderly woman with richly tanned skin, leathery and lined from days spent outside. She wore a faded denim shirt, rolled up to the elbows and a similar pair of worn jeans with gardening gloves sticking out of her back pocket. Her salt and peppered hair sat in a tight bun at her nape, a neatly folded scarf hung around her neck.
She was farm-life personified.
Killian let go of my hand, but not before her shrewd eyes noticed that he’d been linked to me. Momentarily forgetting about me, he stepped up to her and wrapped her in a tight hug, crushing her against his chest.
She wasn’t a short woman, but she looked tiny against him. Her gray-streaked hair vanished beneath his beard as he momentarily rested his cheek against the top of her head. He gave her a quick kiss before pulling out of the hug, keeping one arm around her shoulders.
“Vera, I’d like you to meet Jo, my foster mom. Jo, this is Vera Delane.”
Jo left Killian’s side and extended a calloused hand to me. I took it, intimidated by her strength and direct gaze. “It’s nice to meet you, Vera.”
“Yes, you too,” I told her genuinely. I wanted so badly to ask Killian about his childhood. I hadn’t known he had a foster mom. I hadn’t known he didn’t have parents. Or maybe he’d been adopted at some point? Despite everything I’d learned or discovered via cyberstalking his rise to greatness, there was so much about Killian I didn’t know.
Killian stepped in before the silence between us grew awkward. “Vera opened a food truck across the street from Lilou. She needs a good place to shop.”
Jo’s grin stretched across her face. “Well, you’ve come to the right place.”
“I’ve been looking all over the city for a market like this. I didn’t know it existed until Killian told me about it.”