Page 27

He surfaced the next morning to find the spot beside him empty.

For one panicked moment, he feared she had left.

The argument had not been resolved but simply shelved since he had stopped it entirely by making love to her twice.

Before she could start up again, she had fallen into a sex-induced sleep on his chest.

His heart quieted down as reason prevailed. Sitting up against the massive headboard, he recalled that he had set the code—one she would not have been able to bypass in order to get through the front door.

With a sigh of immense relief, he climbed off the bed and went to search the other rooms, thinking she might be in one of them. His search turned up a damp towel and the scent of pine and citrus from his body wash. A damp towel was folded neatly over the hamper.

Snagging a robe, he shrugged it on and made his way downstairs. The scent of coffee hit him. Smiling widely, he bounded down the stairs and followed his nose into the huge kitchen.

She was flipping eggs for what looked like an omelet. A cup of coffee was on the counter next to the stove, and she was wearing one of his t-shirts.

He leaned against the doorway for a moment, letting the scene wash over him—the ordinary intimacy of it, the morning sunlight filtering through the windows onto her profile, her movements precise but unhurried.

It struck him, with a force he hadn't expected, that he wanted this.

Not just the electricity of their nights, but the quiet moments like this, too.

The ones that felt anchored in something deeper.

"You're up early," he said, his voice still rough from sleep.

It startled her briefly, though she quickly masked it behind a small smile.

"I thought you might need breakfast after last night," she replied, not looking up from the pan, her tone teasing but faintly vulnerable.

He crossed the kitchen slowly, drawn by her presence, and reached for the coffee. Taking a sip, he exhaled softly.

"I didn't mean to stop the conversation," he admitted, the words feeling heavier than he intended. "But it seems we're both good at finding...distractions."

Her hands paused momentarily, a flicker of something crossing her face—a mix of amusement, frustration, and maybe something else.

"You have your ways," she said, finally meeting his gaze, a challenge lingering in her expression. "But you're not going to avoid the topic forever."

The weight of their unresolved argument hung in the air, but he found himself smiling anyway.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he said, leaning closer, his fingers brushing hers as she handed him the plate. "But first, let's eat."

"Here, I think," she carried the plates across to the table tucked beneath a large bay window overlooking a wooded area where there was a gazebo painted white. Delicate ferns clung to the wooden frame, and a garden burst with colors despite the icy weather.

"Your housekeeper must take advantage of this every day," she murmured, gazing out at the spectacular scene. "Do you ever eat here?" she asked, turning to look at him.

Her heart contracted at the sight of his sleep-tousled hair and the relaxed look on his handsome face. She had opened her eyes to see his head on the pillows next to hers, and the thrill had been unbelievable. She had almost reached out to touch him, as if to assure herself that it was not a dream.

"I never eat breakfast." He smiled faintly as he dug into the delicious omelet and caught her look of surprise. "I'm usually headed out first thing in the morning. On the rare weekends I am here, I only drink coffee before heading out again."

"You slept in today," she pointed out, scooping up eggs.

"I have reason to." His intense look had her going warm.

He was wearing a robe, and she believed nothing else. The lapels of the navy-blue material were snagged open to reveal the magnificent chest with the scatterings of dense dark hairs.

She did not respond for a few pulsing seconds. Picking up her cup, she took a sip of coffee.

"Kai, I need to set some things straight. You called your mother—"

"And my uncles. I did that before I came downstairs."

She set aside her cup with a snap, temper surfacing.

"I asked you not to—Really? You are doing it again. I don't appreciate you trying to run my life like this. I—"

"They're looking forward to meeting you." He calmly proceeded to eat his egg as if he hadn't a care in the world, and of course he didn't. He wasn't the one who was going to be judged and found wanting by his family members, she thought furiously. She was the one who would be facing their judgment.

"I—"

"Their names are Kenzo and Koji." Picking up his cup, he sent her an amused stare. "They're twins, and both of them are gay."

The information deflated her anger and had her staring at him in shock.

"What?"

She blinked, momentarily thrown off balance by the revelation.

"Gay twins?" she repeated, her tone caught somewhere between disbelief and curiosity. "But—but they're Japanese."

Kai leaned back in his chair, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

"That's the part you're choosing to focus on?"

"I—" She hesitated, fumbling for a response.

"It's unexpected, that's all. I mean, isn't there some sort of rule?

" She was starting to feel more and more foolish.

"Isn't your family a traditional one? And they're both gay?

How's that possible? Did they both decide that along with similar fashion trends?

As if wearing the same sort of clothing, they're going to be gay together?

And how—" Her voice petered off at the obvious amusement dancing in his eyes. "You're laughing at me."

"You're so adorable when you're flustered," he managed with a straight face.

She poked a tongue out at him and had his blood pressure spiking.

He tilted his head, watching her with quiet intensity.

"You don't have to worry. They're not here to judge you. Trust me, they're...unconventional in the best way."

She raised an eyebrow, the tension in her chest refusing to ease.

"You keep saying that, but you don't know how I feel."

"I know enough." His voice softened, his gaze unwavering. "You're worried about impressing them, about whether you fit into some imaginary box they've created for me. But you don't have to. They'll see you the way I do."

"And how's that?" she challenged, her voice low, caught between skepticism and something she couldn't quite name.

His hand reached across the table, brushing against hers with deliberate gentleness.

"Like someone who doesn't need to prove anything. Like someone who's already enough."

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the world outside the window seemed to blur. The colors of the garden dimmed against the quiet intensity in his eyes.

"Kai..."

He smiled then, the kind of smile that made her heart trip over itself.

"Besides," he added, his tone shifting to something lighter, "Kenzo and Koji will probably spend the entire time admiring the flawless tone of your skin and your fashion sense."

She couldn't help but laugh, the sound breaking through the tension between them.

"Great," she said dryly, "so not only do I have to make a good first impression, but I have to discuss fashion with them?"

"Exactly." His grin widened, the weight of their earlier friction dissipating, if only for the moment. "Consider it your initiation into the family."

Her heart softened despite herself, and as she picked up her coffee cup, she couldn't stop the small smile playing at her lips.

"You're impossible, you know that?"

"And yet, here you are." His voice was warm, teasing, and as the morning light filtered through the bay window, she felt, for the first time in a long while, that she might be exactly where she was meant to be.

They continued to eat in silence for a few more minutes before she spoke.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask. How did your dad take it?

" She lifted her shoulders in a shrug when he glanced over at her.

"From what you told me of him, he appeared to be a stickler for family traditions and all that.

Having gay brothers—wasn't that...uncomfortable for him?

And what about your grandparents? What did they think? "

"More coffee?" he asked mildly, pushing back his chair.

"No. Yes."

She waited until he had returned and poured the brew into their cups.

Leaving the coffee pot on the table, he sat back down.

"The family could not understand why they were the way they were.

" He tried to explain it as simply as he could.

"They were brought up in the US, which was a positive thing for them, I suppose.

From what I was told by Kenzo, his parents refused to believe that their sons were not the traditional Japanese males and blamed it on the 'lax lifestyles of this country.

' They were shipped back to Japan where they spent years trying to 'be cured. '"

A faint smile touched his lips. Sipping coffee, he stared at her for a few seconds as if contemplating her expression.

"They both bowed to family pressure and were married when they were in their early twenties."

"Oh, dreadful for them! How did that work out?"

He smiled at her obvious concern and indignation.

"The marriages were arranged, and the uncles tried, wanting desperately to please their parents. But it did not work."

"Of course not. They certainly did not choose it for themselves."

He smiled at her outrage.

"They got divorced quietly and were temporarily shunned by my grandparents."

"That's ridiculous."

He nodded in agreement.