Wrapped Up in You (Heartbreaker Bay, #8)(28)

She hadn’t seen him since he’d dropped her off. She’d assumed he hadn’t stayed. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s the second time you’ve asked me that tonight alone. Not exactly trusting, are you.” He took the huge stack of trays from her and turned to the back door.

“I already told you that trusting isn’t in my vocabulary,” she said to his back.

“We’ll work on that,” he said without slowing down or turning to face her. “And I’m here for you, to take you home.”

His calm thoughtfulness made her feel curmudgeonly. “Caleb needs to mind his own business.”

“Caleb didn’t ask me. I’m here of my own free will.” And then he walked out the door, only to return a minute later, arms empty. He took another stack of trays and gave her a challenging look, like what would you like to fight about now?

She gave another heavy sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, your sweet, sunshine-like nature? For assuming the worst of me? For apparently not knowing how to retract your claws?”

She had to laugh. “All of the above.”

He smiled, and she got the feeling he liked the sound of her laugh, which also made her all warm and fuzzy again. Dammit.

He merely bowed his head in acceptance of her apology and vanished outside again. She followed with the last of the load and got into his truck. She’d just buckled her seatbelt and he’d done the same when her stomach rumbled so loudly it echoed off the windshield.

Kel turned to her, brow up.

Horrified, she pressed her hands to her belly and pressed hard. “Ignore that.”

Kel flashed a grin. “You made all that amazing food and didn’t feed yourself, did you.”

“I was busy.”

He started driving. Ten minutes later, he parked at an all-night diner in the Marina District.

“What are we doing?” she asked.

“Feeding the beast.”

The diner was mostly empty at this time of night. It looked like it’d been opened in the 1950s and not renovated since. Black-and-white linoleum, steel tables, bright red booths. It was, however, done up for the holidays within an inch of its life. The walls and every available surface were twinkling with multicolored strings of lights and decorations.

It was a seat yourself sort of situation, so Kel gestured for her to pick a spot and she headed toward a booth, stopping short when she realized that hanging in front of each booth was a sprig of mistletoe.

Kel stopped too, and toe-to-toe with her, they both looked up.

“Don’t even think about kissing me again,” she warned.

He grinned.

“Because I’m not thinking about it,” she said. “So you shouldn’t either.”

“Honey, I’ve done nothing but think of it.”

Something deep inside her hummed in pleasure at that, but she ignored it and slid into the booth. Grabbing two menus sticking out of a holder, she tossed him one. “Have you been here before?” she asked.

“No. But the flashing sign in the window says Best Pancakes Ever, and I’m planning on testing out that promise.”

“Do you eat a lot of pancakes?”

“Whenever I can. None as good as yours though.”

She tried and failed to not be secretly pleased by that and eyed his leanly muscular build. “Where do you put it?”

“Good metabolism,” he said.

“Plus hard work,” she guessed. “You, Spence, and Jake go for miles every morning.”

“Do you ever run?”

“Only if I’m on fire.”

He laughed. “A coworker and I used to run in the mornings, then hit up a local diner. We won the pancake eating contest three years in a row.”

“If I ate pancakes every day, I’d weigh two tons. Is your coworker off work for these two weeks too?”

Kel looked at her for a long moment. “My coworker’s in jail,” he finally said.

She gaped before she could stop herself. “What happened?”

“She was dirty.” He suddenly seemed to find the menu engrossing. “They have French toast too.”

Her heart squeezed hard and she put her hand over the menu and waited until his gaze met hers. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Right. He was a male. She gave him a get real look and he blew out a breath, pushing his menu away. “I’m the one who turned her in. She tried to frame me. For a while, she nearly succeeded. And then she nearly killed me. Hence my forced leave. Seems my superiors need a little space and time.”

“But that’s not fair,” she said, a little surprised by her own vehemence. But she knew him, or she was starting to, and she knew the people who cared about him. She didn’t take the time to freak out about that. There was plenty of time for that later. “You’re innocent.”

The smallest of smiles almost crossed his lips. “You don’t know that.”

She looked right into his brown eyes, eyes that she knew could be razor sharp with focus and intensity, or soft with affection and heat. “I feel like I do,” she murmured, even more shocked by her easy admission.

He seemed just as shocked. “Look at you going all sweet on me.” He paused. “You’re a surprise, Ivy.”