Page 15 of Frost and Felines (Saltwater Grove #5)

15

MALLORY

T wo weeks had passed in a blur and Mallory found herself falling into an easy rhythm at The Hearthstone. Each morning brought new challenges, but somehow, they felt less daunting with Kieran by her side. The way he commanded attention when he entered a room, the confident set of his shoulders as he dealt with difficult guests - it all spoke to a natural leadership she couldn't help but admire.

"Mrs. Striker!" a guest called out as Mallory passed through the lobby. The title still made her heart skip. "The fireplace in the library isn't working."

"I'll take care of it," Kieran's deep voice came from behind her, his hand settling on her back. The warmth of his gentle touch seeped through her cream sweater. "Why don't you handle the cookie decorating station, sweetheart?"

The endearment rolled off his tongue so naturally now. Mallory tried not to think about how right it felt, or how his blue eyes sparkled when he looked at her.

"Already on it," she said, ducking away from his touch. "Try not to burn the place down while fixing that fireplace."

"Your faith in me is overwhelming." His laugh followed her down the hallway.

The days seemed to merge in a whirlwind of holiday activities. Mallory taught children how to make paper snowflakes, helped elderly couples find their rooms, and mediated disputes between stressed-out families. All while Kieran prowled the inn like the protective owner he was, fixing problems before they could escalate.

"You're a natural at this," he told her one evening as they shared hot chocolate in the kitchen after hours. "Running an inn. Being around people."

"I'm just good at pretending," she replied, focusing on the marshmallows melting in her mug.

"No." His fingers caught her chin, lifting her face to meet his gaze. "You're good at caring. At seeing what needs to be done and doing it. At calling me out when I'm being stubborn."

Mallory pulled away, her heart thundering. "Someone has to keep your ego in check."

"And you do it so well." His voice held a hint of something deeper, something that made her skin tingle.

She busied herself with cleaning up their mugs, trying to ignore how perfectly they balanced each other. How he seemed to know exactly when to step in and when to let her handle things. How his strength complemented her practicality.

But those were dangerous thoughts. Thoughts that led to places she wasn't ready to go, no matter how right they felt.

Mallory watched intently as Kieran paced his office the next afternoon, his shoulders tense with barely contained fury. Another "accident" had occurred - this time some trees outside the front entrance had mysteriously caught fire. Thankfully, they'd contained it quickly, but the damage to the trees and Kieran's patience was evident.

"I'm going to tear that smirking bastard apart," Kieran growled, his blue eyes flashing dangerously.

"And give him exactly what he wants?" Mallory raised an eyebrow. "The minute you lose control, Gregory wins."

"He's already winning!" Kieran slammed his hand on his desk, making the coffee cups rattle. "Every day it's something new. The fire, the burst pipes, the missing deliveries..."

"We've handled everything he's thrown at us," Mallory reminded him, keeping her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her. Her magic stirred restlessly, responding to her rising emotions. "The guests love how we've adapted. Remember how they praised the handmade ornaments?"

"That's not the point," he rumbled. "He's trying to prove I can't protect what's mine."

The possessive tone in his voice sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. "Then prove him wrong by staying calm and collected. Show him he can't rattle you."

"That's easy for you to say. You're always so composed." He stopped pacing to look at her. "How do you do it?"

"Years of practice and discipline," she said dryly. "Besides, getting angry is exactly what Gregory wants. He's trying to make you look unstable in front of the guests and investors."

Kieran's jaw clenched. "I know. But watching him strut around with that fake smile while he systematically tries to destroy everything I've built..." He trailed off, his hands curling into fists.

Mallory stood and approached him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "We'll figure something out. Something better than property destruction and assault charges."

He covered her hand with his, the warmth of his tender touch spreading through her. "We?"

"Well, I am your wife, aren't I?" She tried to keep her tone light, ignoring how natural the words felt now.

His expression softened as he looked at her, and for a moment, Mallory forgot how to breathe.

A few hours later, Mallory sat in the kitchen, surrounded by the warm chatter of Charlotte and Amy as they shared coffee and pastries. The simple act of belonging somewhere hit her unexpectedly, warming her from the inside out.

"I swear, if Mrs. Chen asks for another towel change today, I might scream," Amy said, dropping onto the stool beside Mallory.

Charlotte patted Amy's shoulder. "At least she tips well. Unlike the Robertsons in 204."

"The ones who demanded their entire room be redecorated?" Mallory sipped her tea, hiding her smile. "I handled that this morning. Moved some furniture around, added a few throws. They're happy now."

"You're a miracle worker," Charlotte declared. "This place runs so much smoother with you here."

The praise made Mallory's chest tighten. She had forgotten how nice it felt to be needed, to be part of something bigger than herself.

Amy leaned forward conspiratorially. "Did you see how Kieran practically growled at that contractor who was ogling you yesterday?"

Heat crept into Mallory's face. "He was just being protective of the inn's reputation."

"Oh honey." Charlotte's knowing look made Mallory squirm. "That man stares at you like you truly hung the moon. Fake marriage or not."

"He's just a good actor," Mallory protested, though her heart fluttered traitorously.

"Actor nothing." Amy snorted. "I saw him nearly take Chase's head off when he made that comment about your dress at breakfast."

"That was just-" Mallory's defense was cut short as Kieran himself appeared in the doorway, filling it with his broad shoulders.

"Ladies." His deep voice carried authority, but his eyes softened when they landed on Mallory. "Mind if I steal my wife for a moment?"

The way he said 'wife' sent shivers through her. Charlotte and Amy exchanged meaningful looks that Mallory pointedly ignored as she stood.

"We'll finish this conversation later," Charlotte called after them, making Mallory's cheeks burn.

As she followed Kieran down the hallway, Mallory realized with clarity that she had found more than just a temporary arrangement here. She had found people who actually cared about her and wanted her around. The thought should have frightened her and should have sent her running back to her solitary existence. Instead, this place somehow felt like her home now.

Mallory turned the corner and followed Kieran to the dining room where the Andersons, a lovely elderly couple celebrating their 45th anniversary, waited for them. The soft glow from the chandelier cast warm shadows across the oak table, making the holiday decorations shimmer.

"Here's my beautiful wife," Kieran announced, pulling out her chair. His hand brushed her shoulder as she sat, sending tingles down her spine. "The Andersons were just telling me about their first Christmas together."

"Oh, it was a disaster," Mrs. Anderson chuckled. "The turkey caught fire, and Tom here tried to put it out with egg nog."

"In my defense, the fire extinguisher was empty," Mr. Anderson protested, his eyes twinkling.

Mallory felt Kieran's knee press against hers under the table, a silent signal of shared amusement. "How did you salvage the evening?"

"We ordered Chinese food and ate it on the floor of our tiny apartment," Mrs. Anderson said. "Best Christmas ever."

"What about you two?" Mr. Anderson asked. "Any holiday disasters yet?"

Kieran's hand found hers on the table. "Well, several weeks ago, my lovely wife here saved Christmas when our decorations were ruined."

"He's exaggerating," Mallory demurred, though warmth bloomed in her chest at his praise.

"Not at all." Kieran's eyes locked with hers, filled with genuine admiration. "She turned resin and broken glass into magic. My wife's quite the creative genius."

"You helped," she reminded him, surprising herself with how natural it felt to lean into his touch now.

"Only because you ordered me around so effectively." His grin turned playful. "She's quite bossy when she wants to be."

"Well, someone has to keep you in line," Mallory shot back, making the Andersons laugh.

"That's what makes a good marriage," Mrs. Anderson nodded approvingly. "Finding someone who complements and challenges you."

Mallory caught herself thinking how right that felt - how Kieran's strength balanced her caution, how his playfulness drew out her hidden smile. How perfectly their hands fit together, still linked on the table.

"More wine?" Kieran offered, his voice a low rumble that sent pleasant shivers through her.

"Always," Mallory answered, letting herself enjoy the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her.

For just a moment, she could pretend this was real - that she deserved this kind of happiness again. That the storm inside her could be calmed by his steady presence.

The rest of dinner passed in a blur of laughter and shared glances, each moment feeling more natural than the last. When had pretending with him become so effortless? When had Kieran's touch started feeling like everything she's been missing?

Mallory lay in her plush suite bed that night, staring at the intricate crown molding while snow drifted past her window. The mattress cradled her like a cloud, but sleep remained elusive. Her thoughts kept drifting to Kieran - his infectious laugh, the way his auburn hair shone in the firelight, and how his strong hands steadied her when she stumbled this morning.

"You're being completely ridiculous," she whispered to herself, rolling onto her side. But the empty space beside her only emphasized what her heart already knew.

She had fallen for him. Hard.

The realization sent a jolt of electricity through her body, making the wind outside howl. Mallory forced herself to take deep breaths, trying to calm the storm that threatened to build with her rising emotions.

"One week," she reminded herself. "The bridge will be fixed in one week, and this fairy tale ends."

But the thought of leaving caused her chest to suddenly ache. The Hearthstone had become more than just a temporary shelter. The staff truly felt like family with Charlotte's motherly wisdom and Amy's sweet enthusiasm.

And Kieran... God, Kieran. The way he commanded everyone's attention without trying, how his presence filled every room he entered. How he could switch from playful banter to fierce protectiveness in a heartbeat. The gentle way he touched her, like she was precious but not breakable.

"Stop it," Mallory scolded herself, burying her face in the pillow. It still held traces of his cologne from when he'd sat there earlier, going over the week's events.

Lightning flashed outside, illuminating her room. Her magic reacted to her inner turmoil, making the air crackle with electricity. This was exactly why she couldn't let herself fall deeper. Her powers were too dangerous and too unpredictable. She lost Eli - she couldn't bear to lose anyone else.

"I won't risk hurting Kieran," she whispered into the darkness. "I won't risk destroying everything he's built here."

But even as she made that promise, tears slipped down her cheeks. The thought of returning to her empty house, of never seeing Kieran's bright smile or feeling his steady presence beside her - it hurt more than she had expected.

Sleep finally came, but her dreams were filled with blue eyes and the echo of a laugh that made her feel like she was coming home to where she belonged.