“That’s obviously changed since I was a child.”
Her soft smile draws me in and before I realize what I’m doing, I take a step toward her. “Have you ever thought about buying the place yourself.”
She gives a laugh that comes out sounding like a snort. “Even if I could afford a down payment, I don’t belong here, Nate. My life is on the other side of the country.”
“Okay,” I say, totally understanding where she’s coming from. I don’t belong here, either. I set my tea down, stretch my arms over my head and her eyes drop, move over my bare chest. She takes a small breath, almost too quiet for me to hear, and I rub the back of my neck, wanting to stand here with her longer, continue the conversation—or maybe take her to my bed. I dip my head, and run my tongue over my bottom lip, dying for a taste of her. I swallow against a dry throat that scratches like I haven’t had a drink in ages. The log in the fire cracks, snaps some sense back into me, and breaks the trance between us. “I uh, I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night,” she says quietly, breathlessly.
I turn, take the stairs two at a time, and flop on my bed. I leave my door cracked, in case Kira needs me to collect her mouse trap, or anything else she might need. Like a hot tumble between my sheets. Warmth from the fire downstairs rushes up, and I roll, trying not to think about how close I was to kissing her. Christ, what would she have done? Introduce my balls to my gut with her foot?
Or would she have kissed me back?
Groaning, I roll, tug the blankets to my chin, and the next thing I know, my alarm goes off and the smell of bacon reaches my nostrils. I stretch out and glance out the window to find a light dusting of snow on the ground, but the winds are still high, the top branches of the trees batting against the side of the house.
I dress and step into the hall. The doors around me all open, save for Izzy, she does not like mornings and prefers it if we’re all out of her way by the time she crawls from her sheets. But this morning, her door cracks open.
Her focus shifts from me, to Sam, to Jason and then to Cody. “If we’re all here, who’s making the racket downstairs?” The clanging of a pan hitting the floor reaches my ears.
“That’s been going on for about half an hour,” she says.
I must have been in a deep sleep. “My guess is Kira is cooking breakfast.”
“Right,” she says, obviously forgetting about our newest family member in her half-coma state.
“Shit,” Jason says. “Where’s the fire extinguisher?”
Everyone chuckles, but I say, “She’s a smart girl. Give her the benefit of the doubt.”
“Whatever you say, boss,” Cody says.
We all take a quick turn in the bathroom, and head down the stairs in single file, which reminds me of my elementary school fire drills. I just hope that’s not the case this time. We pile into the kitchen and Kira’s tired eyes light when she sees us. Did she get any sleep last night?
“Good morning,” she says, a little too chipper for this motley crew. She gets a few grumbled responses and Izzy goes straight for the coffee.
“You’ve all been so nice to me, I thought I’d do something for you in return.”
“Not burning the kitchen down is nice,” Jason teases, and it brings a smile to Kira’s face.
She points to the stove. “I Googled how to properly use a gas stove,” she says.
I like her resilience. “Need any help?” I ask, and for the first time since I entered the kitchen her glance flickers my way. Our eyes meet, hold a second too long, before she shakes her head no.
“I’ve got it all under control.”
Izzy sits down and slurps her coffee. She’ll need a few of those before she comes out of zombie mode.
Sam steps up to the window and looks out. “Man, we’re going to freeze our nuts off out there today.”
“Have you checked the front closet for a coat?” I ask Kira.
“No, but I found some toques, mitts, and a couple homemade knitted sweaters in Gram’s room. She made them in different sizes and donated them to those who needed them. You guys are welcome to whatever you’d like.” She nods toward the counter near the back door, and I see the pile. “Just help yourselves.”
Izzy snort. “Homemade knitted sweaters. Those damn things are back in style.”
“They’re all a little big for me. I don’t mind, but I’ll drown in her coats. She comes from sturdy German stock,” she says with a grin.
“Better that than freezing to death.” Izzy looks Kira over and snaps her fingers. “You got no meat on your bones. You’ll freeze in seconds.”
“I’ll be okay,” she says, and for some reason I know she will be. She’s tougher than she looks. “Now, who wants bacon, fresh Edna eggs, and pancakes? I baked with Gram, but this is pretty much all I know how to cook.”
I grab plates from the cupboard and set them out on the long oak table, and I fill mugs of coffee for everyone as she divvies up the food. Sam coats his pancake in syrup, tapped from a local maple tree farm.
“Pancakes, a transport mechanism for syrup,” he says, and hands the bottle to Kira.
She pours and passes it on. I try not to watch her lips part as she slides her fork in. Sporting a boner at the breakfast table is not my idea of a fun time.
“Oh my God, I forgot how good Nova Scotia maple syrup is.”
“Only the best,” Cody says, and we all agree.
As we eat, Kira goes quiet, and I sense she has something on her mind. Izzy works on her second cup of coffee and has come more alive. Once our plates are practically licked clean, Kira places her hands on the table and glances at us.
“I have some bad news.”
I sit up a little straighter. I’m guessing the breakfast was to soften the blow of her news.
“What’s up?” Jason asks.
“Well, you see. This bed and breakfast came to my mom after Gram died, and I’m here to sell it for her,” she says getting right to the point.
Sam sets his fork down. “You’re selling Gram’s B&B?” he asks, like there is no way in the world for him to process that. Sam and Gram were close. He’s been staying at her place for years, and he was the one who took her to the hospital when she was having pains in her chest. He was like the grandson she never had. I expected the news to be hard on him.
“I’m sorry,” Kira says. “It’s mom’s wishes, and I can’t see any other way around them. I have to sell.”
“Why don’t you stay? Buy the place out from her?” Sam asks.