Wordplay
Rae shifted, the softness of the sheet a cocoon of feathers gliding over her bare skin. Her eyes flew open and she lifted the blankets. She was naked. Memories poured in and her whole body flushed with a tingling warmth. It hadn't been a dream. She grabbed his pillow and breathed deeply, a smile spreading across her face. Sunshine Cove. Only Killian.
She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and blinked a couple times, clearing the fog from her eyes. But she'd seen it correctly, it was close to eight. She'd slept, actually slept without waking up every half hour, or even waking up at all. Heat swept up her cheeks, that wasn't entirely true. Killian had woken her, and then knocked her back out with sex she couldn't even begin to describe. Another never before to add to the list. She buried her face in the pillow, saturating herself in his smell, wondering how he slipped out of bed without waking her. She wasn't exactly a deep sleeper.
Muffled voices invaded her cocoon and she sat up, trying to pinpoint where they were coming from. The bedroom was large, but sparsely furnished, giving the impression it was used for sleeping and not much else. Her cheeks throbbed with heat again, and she shook her head at her own ridiculousness. She wasn't a teenager. Pulling one of the blankets around her shoulders she swung her legs off the bed and stilled, cocking her head to the side. The voices were still muffled but now they sounded like they were outside. She walked over to the window and peered through a crack in the blinds.
Killian was standing on the patio in jeans and a black coat, the camera dangling next to his leg. The aura of authority was as thick as the breath clouds whirling around his head. His stance and voice exuded power, practically bewitching the detective and two uniformed officers who were hanging on his every word. They were the authorities yet Killian was the one in charge.
The officers broke away and picked up a couple ice covered items. A phone and a wallet. She stepped back, chewing on her lip. An old habit she'd broken years ago, but with the puzzle of last night slipped right back into without even realizing. She pulled her clothes on trying to recall everything she saw from the moment she ran outside to Killian finding her on the floor. It was possible the man's wallet and phone flew from his pockets during the scuffle, but very unlikely Killian missed them. He'd thrown the camera into a bush to keep it hidden from the police, his pockets would have worked just fine for the wallet and phone. He created the tableau for the cops, controlling the narrative therefore the story. Like he always did. He was a frightening man.
She glanced outside to make sure they were still in the back then rushed through the house. The rich aroma of coffee wafting through the halls followed by a myriad of delicious smells made her stomach growl. Killian had a busy morning. She slipped into the den and grabbed her phone, surprised and a little relieved there were no missed calls. Reagan was an early riser and thought everyone else was to, or at least they should be. The phone vibrated in her hand and she jumped, her heart pounding in her ears. She looked over her shoulder but the cops weren't suddenly in the doorway demanding all her personal information. She almost laughed at her skittishness and opened the text from Jimmy. Reagan filled the screen. Sleeping peacefully, her face framed by curls, she looked like a cherub. All she needed were wings. Rae's heart swelled with love until it spilled out and filled every part of her. Just like the first time she saw that little face, pink and all scrunched up, her eyes seeming to fix on her mother's, recognizing and reflecting the feeling within. It was a love the likes of which she never knew she was capable of, all-encompassing with new depths plumbed each passing year. The bills, the troubled marriage, the time that seemed to get away from them day after day, faded into the background when she was looking at Reagan's precious face.
"Are you sure I can't tempt you?"
She froze. They were in the house.
"I appreciate the offer Mr. Laird, but I've already hit my coffee quota this morning."
There was no way to make it to the stairs before they reached the hall. She was sure Killian didn't have a reason to bring them to the den, but she still slid behind the door, her bag in one hand, phone in the other. Peering through the crack gave her a clear shot of the foyer down the hall, and after a moment Killian stepped into view the detective right behind.
"Another time then Detective Shaw," Killian said, removing his coat. "And if you have any more questions please don't hesitate to call me directly."
"One more thing Mr. Laird. Lyons said a woman witnessed the scuffle, but there's no mention of her in the initial report."
Rae's breath caught in her throat and she glanced at the phone imagining Reagan's angelic face scrunching in confusion at finding out her mother betrayed her father. She'd carry the resentment and anger for years, blaming her mother for hurting her father and casting a shadow over their family. Just like Rae had with her own mother.
Killian folded the coat over his arm and glanced towards the stairs almost conspiratorially. The detective took the bait and stepped closer, his gaze flicking to the stairs. "A friend accompanied me home last night. She had a reasonable expectation of privacy when doing so."
"I understand Mr. Laird," Shaw said, smiling. "Did she witness the altercation between you and Mr. Lyons?"
Killian fought a smile of his own and said, "She was indisposed at the time, although she did see him run across the patio right before he triggered the alarm. If you need a statement from her I can-"
Shaw waved his hand dismissively his smile growing. "That won't be necessary Mr. Laird. If it is going forward I'll let you know."
Killian opened the front door and shook his hand. "Thank you for all your help Detective Shaw. You're sure about the coffee? It's the best in town."
Shaw smiled again and said, "You're welcome Mr. Laird, and I'm sure. Have a good day. I'll be in touch."
Killian shut the door and looked towards the stairs. A smile spread across his face and her heart started thudding so loud she couldn't fathom how he didn't hear it. He looked so genuinely happy she kept still not wanting to shatter it. The moment he started for the kitchen the spell broke and she deflated. Sliding out from behind the door she sat on the sofa, her eyes on her daughter's sleeping face.
The police knew about her but not who she was, and they weren't in a rush to learn. Money and status were shields, even though neither were hers. But she was within Killian's domain of power and influence. She was protected. It was a strange and completely unfamiliar sensation, being protected. But the man happily whistling away in the kitchen threw her completely into the unfamiliar. Getting to know him had shown her layers and depths that defied the box she'd put in him and made her want to know more, like when and how he created the king of the mountain. A second skin he slipped on off with ease.
"All the world's a stage," she whispered. "And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts." She laughed under her breath. Billy Harris then Killian Laird, with all the family fallout of a tragedy. "He's downright Shakespearean."
Maybe she'd recognized that in him from the beginning, a kind of kindred spirit of the stage. She lived her life playing parts that suited the moment, that were necessary to get ahead, or, more often than not, to keep her head above water. Now she was playing a part for Killian, on his stage. She sighed heavily and dropped her phone in her bag. It always came back around to that. The contract.
She pushed herself off the sofa and left the den. Trying to wade through her thoughts and feelings before coffee was a bad idea. She'd end up spiraling, and didn't have the stomach for it. As she rounded the corner into the kitchen Killian's phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and hesitated, obviously surprised. Setting the phone on the counter, he proceeded to pull food out of bakery boxes. "Good morning Grace. What's the problem?"
"I can't be calling to say good morning?"
Killian chuckled. "Of course you can, but it would be a first."
"Maggie is scared," Grace replied. "So scared she steadfastly refuses to come to the deposition. She's terrified of what the Baylors will do once they know who she is, and no amount of cajoling could get her to change her mind. Without her this could fall apart."
Killian shook his head, and then straightened his shoulders and turned, sensing he wasn't alone. His expression brightened and a smile spread across his face. "I think I have just the solution."
"Really? I know you're good Killian but unless you're a magician that can conjure Maggie from thin air we're screwed."
Killian walked over to her, his gaze drifting to her exposed shoulder. "More of an illusionist. Smoke and mirrors Grace. Don't worry, we'll get Brett Baylor to give us everything we want. I'll explain when we see you." He hung up and slipped the phone back into his pocket. "I thought I was going to have to wake you. Although I had plenty of ideas on how to go about doing it." She blushed and he grinned ear to ear. Wrapping his arms around her he buried his nose in her hair and breathed deeply. A satisfied sigh tickled her skin and he tightened his embrace. "Good morning. Did you have pleasant dreams?"
She didn't think her cheeks could get any hotter, but then Killian had found a button that fired them up at will, and stoked the heat until she was almost certain she could fry an egg on her face. "A couple," she said, wondering if he could feel the furnace through his shirt.
He chuckled and said, "Glad to hear it."
He seemed to be in no rush to let her go, and after a brief inner struggle she gave in to what she wanted. Closing her eyes she let the comfort and safety of his arms syphon away all the fears, doubts, self-recriminations, the intruder, police, and the world at large until she just was and he just was. She was protected, she could feel it in the arms that surrounded her, and for once that was perfectly fine with her. She took in a slow deep breath and slipped her arms around him so they were holding each other.
After a couple minutes he kissed her head and reluctantly let her go. "I ordered breakfast from Aunt B's, I hope you're hungry."
"Let me guess," she said, her mouth practically watering. "You have a fast metabolism that burns through calories allowing you to eat pretty much whatever you want."
He smiled and poured her a mug of coffee. "Pretty much."
"Men," she said under her breath.
He chuckled and put three different pastries on a plate for her. "Buttery, sweet, and savory."
"Thank you." She took a sip of coffee and picked up the savory croissant muffin. "What time did you get up?"
"6:30." He poured himself coffee, grabbed a couple pastries, and walked over to his laptop, which was on the island next the stove. "It's my internal clock."
"Mine too," she mumbled, around a mouth full of heavenly Gouda, ham croissant. "But someone broke it."
He grinned, his eyes scanning emails. "Glad I could help."
She sighed contentedly and leaned against the counter, trying, and thoroughly enjoying, each pastry. There was no better bakery outside of the city, and their coffee was pure perfection. In only a couple minutes she'd drained every drop. She quietly refilled her cup letting Killian read through his schedule without interruption. A schedule she'd written. Killian was a busy man, his services sought after by many. His schedule could change with a single text, email, or phone call and everything had to be planned for that. It was a challenge, and this was the first time she'd taken it on without Stella. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him change the time of the deposition, but nothing else. A swell of pride moved through her and she had to swallow the whoop that wanted to burst forth. It was just a schedule, but she had a lot to prove, and live up to. Everything she got right was a victory.
He caught her watching and raised an eyebrow. "What?"
She smiled and shook her head. "It's still a shock, seeing you in regular clothes."
"Did you think I wore suits all day every day?"
