Page 18

Chapter eighteen

Keala

S tacked glass containers of food sat on the second shelf of Ikaika’s fridge, which Keala found odd. When she looked closer, she noticed the sticky note on the bottom of the first container.

I worry about your ability to feed yourself after the kitchen fiasco, so accept this as a thanks for taking care of me yesterday – Your Favorite Asshole on his Best Behavior.

Inside the containers appeared to be beef and broccoli stir fry with noodles, and despite the early hour, Keala’s mouth watered.

The guys were usually up early on Mondays for recovery at the facility, but there was no way Landon had made this this morning. She was up at five to go to her Pilates class before work, and when she double-checked Ikaika’s door, it was closed.

Which meant Landon had gone home after they’d talked last night, made this for her, and brought it back so she would have it before work today.

It was so at odds with the person she’d originally thought he was. She had been learning over the last few weeks, and especially yesterday, that there was more to him than she ever could have imagined.

Keala hadn’t necessarily been wrong about him, but she’d refused to let herself see the good side. The sweet side. And she’d certainly failed to see, or even think about, the potential reasons behind his behavior.

How must he feel with a father whose love he could never earn no matter how hard he tried? How must he feel with the words “you’re not enough” stamped on his heart, all over his body, all because he was a second son who had never been given the chance to shine like his brother? How much of why he kept his emotions so close to his chest had been learned from a father who appeared not to care about him except when he could reinforce Landon’s belief that he wasn’t enough? How much of his media presence was for the attention he desperately craved from anyone who would give it to him?

Had he heard that again, repeated and reinforced, when she’d chastised him? When she’d called him a slacker?

His experiences didn’t excuse his actions, but they did give her a new perspective. The two of them weren’t so different after all.

Still, almost kissing him had been a mistake for many reasons, namely the fact that she wasn’t supposed to be talking to him in the first place, and also because if she did allow herself to indulge in another mind-blowing kiss, it couldn’t lead to anything more. It was abundantly clear she was no good at one-night stands or relationships. She had no time for the latter, anyway.

Keala placed the sticky note in her jewelry box, then grabbed the top container of food and one of the protein shakes Ikaika had gotten her from the facility.

Her workout flew by, and by seven, she was at the hospital, showered and ready to go.

“How was it?” Keala asked Deirdre, who usually worked the night shift so she could care for her young child during the day.

“Nothing crazy. There is a patient we admitted in five who thought it would be a good idea to”—she grimaced, and Keala braced herself for whatever tomfoolery was coming—“put a hamster stuffed animal up his asshole.”

Keala sighed. “Of course he did. X-rays done?”

Deirdre nodded, hiking her purse over her shoulder and folding a sweater over her arms.

“I’ll handle it. Have a good day!”

Keala jumped into action, running from room to room, diagnosing and treating until her sore feet ached more and her shoulders rose higher and higher. The only highlight of the day was the food Landon had made her, and once that was gone, the misery began all over again.

Keala wrangled the front door of Ikaika’s apartment open later that evening, weighed down by four heavy tote bags full of groceries from the store across the street. When she noticed Landon sitting beside Ikaika on the couch, she bit back a smile, her heart jackhammering.

Which was entirely unwanted.

“Are you planning on feeding an army?” the man in question asked, a smirk on his face despite his eyes on the TV, where the Monday evening game played out.

Keala rolled her eyes, heading toward the kitchen. “No. Just trying to pull my weight.”

She didn’t hear his response as she set down the groceries and went into her bedroom to change out of her scrubs. She was in desperate need of a shower after staying late to help, so she grabbed what she needed and ran across the hall into the guest bathroom.

Once showered and feeling slightly less gross, she returned to the kitchen, scaring off a mischievous-looking Chowder. Based on the bite marks on the plastic bag of bread, Keala could guess what she’d been doing.

Landon appeared in the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it with water as she removed the items from her bags. “I hope you’re not planning on cooking. I think my lungs are still trying to rid themselves of the smoke.”

“Ha ha, very funny. How are your knuckles?” she asked, meticulously laying out each item in the order she would need it.

“Oh, testy today.” He placed his glass down on the island in front of her, and she looked up at him. His smirk softened into something sweeter when their eyes met, and quietly, he asked, “Did you see the food in the fridge?”

Keala’s hand stilled on a bag of flour. “I did. Thank you. It was delicious,” she admitted begrudgingly. “What time did you make it? It was already so late when I went to bed.”

He shrugged. “I knew you had to be up early, so I whipped it up after I went home. Only took half an hour.”

“Well, thank you. It forced me to take a lunch break so I could enjoy it.”

“Oh yeah? How long did that last?” he asked knowingly.

All of fifteen minutes, but he didn’t need to know that. It was more than she typically took when she brought snacks for lunch, since she could eat them while getting through paperwork.

Ikaika walked in. Keala could read the sadness and regret clear as day on his face despite his attempt at smiling. “Hey, Keeks. Good day?”

“Always,” she responded, leaning into him as his arm came around her shoulders. She rested her head on him for a few seconds, squeezing his hand before pulling away. He moved to the fridge to grab a protein shake, and Keala added liners to the cupcake tins she’d purchased before she preheated the oven.

“Oh boy,” Landon muttered.

“Oh my god, be quiet. I know how to use the oven.”

“Hmm, if I recall correctly—” He held up his hands when she shot him a glare. Ikaika still didn’t know about the fire. “I’m just saying, I don’t think Chowder can take any more of the fire alarm screaming.”

Ikaika looked between them questioningly. “What did you do to Chowder?”

“Keala tried to burn down the place a few weeks ago.”

Desperately, she said, “No, wait. He’s lying. I was practicing and accidentally allowed my vegetables to broil alongside my chicken. Honest mistake.”

“So, basically, one of us needs to keep an eye on her while she’s in here doing whatever it is she’s doing.” Landon grinned, sitting on a barstool on the other side of the island.

Ikaika looked between them once more, but this time, his face broke into a small, genuine smile. “Seems like Landon’s got you covered then. I’m going to keep watching Weston Colridge get his comeuppance, but I will want at least two of whatever it is that you’re making.”

“I do not need to be babysat! I’m perfectly capable of baking.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll be like I’m not here.” Judging by the cheeky grin on Landon’s face, and the skeptical look on Ikaika’s as he walked back into the living room, that was highly unlikely.

After a moment of silence, he asked, “So…cupcakes?”

“Wow, that lasted all of a couple of seconds.”

Landon shrugged, leaning back and resting an arm over the barstool beside him, his Sentinels T-shirt stretching over his bicep as he moved, and the tendons of his hands straining as he flexed his busted knuckles.

“A bunch of the girls got together Friday to make some stuff for a bake sale on Saturday. For Breast Cancer Awareness Month, you know? They sold out fast, and since it was such a hit, a couple of the girls and I are going to do another one tomorrow.”

Keala felt horrible that she hadn’t made it either day. The girls understood, knowing she had long shifts, and had told her not to worry. But that was all she’d done since. The last thing she wanted was for the people she spent so much time with, and who she had grown close with, to think she wasn’t contributing enough.

So she had bought enough materials to make an absurd number of red velvet cupcakes.

One of Landon’s hands brushed over the freshly dressed knuckles of the other. Someone at the facility must have changed his bandages. “I guess the number of ingredients makes more sense now.”

She nodded, grabbing a couple of large mixing bowls from a cabinet. “I have to make, like, twelve batches, so if you insist on being in here, I’m going to put you to work.”

His grin was wicked as he said, “I’d love for you to put me to work. Give me one second.”

He jogged out of the room, and then about two minutes later, Ikaika laughed in the living room. The sound made Keala smile. When Landon came back into the kitchen, he was sporting an apron. One different from the last Keala had chosen to ignore.

One that read I like my butt rubbed and my pork pulled .

Good to know the many blows he had suffered physically and mentally yesterday hadn’t knocked the asshole out of him.

“You like? I have another one if you want to use it.”

“Pass.”

He chuckled, and Keala added butter and sugar to one of the bowls. “Mix please.” She’d been too cheap to buy an electric mixer.

Landon took the bowl and silicone spoon from her, his arms flexing as he mixed. Keala averted her eyes quickly, knowing if she looked any longer, he would either catch her or she would lose all focus. Probably both.

“Alright, done.”

It was creamy and fluffy, like the recipe said. “I’m going to add the eggs. Mix well after each.” She added triple what the recipe called for.

When that was done, she added vanilla and food coloring. Landon continued mixing as she poured the buttermilk in. Her side brushed against his, her arm held steady against the arm he used to keep the bowl in place. He was warm everywhere they touched, and when she looked up at him, she found him already looking at her sans cocky smile.

He looked younger without it, and for the millionth time, Keala marveled at how breathtaking this man truly was. Her eyes flicked down to his lips.

“Careful, Keeks,” he whispered.

She frowned. “What?”

“You’re spilling.”

Keala’s brain was clearly in very sexual territory because it took her a second to realize he was talking about the buttermilk, and when she did, she jumped, spilling more onto Landon.

“Shoot, I’m sorry.” She grabbed a handful of paper towels, her cheeks warming as she wiped the small spill on the counter and his arm.

“It’s okay.” He was still mixing. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. Actually,” he amended, “you’re cute all the time.”

That forced more blood to her cheeks. She was sure she looked like a tomato. She’d been getting used to his flirting, but with their close proximity, she could hardly think.

The oven beeped, letting them know it was preheated.

Keala didn’t respond to him, pouring the vinegar and baking soda into the first bowl while Landon stirred with a cocky grin.

“Next bowl.” She pointed at the smaller green one.

“Aye, aye captain.” He pulled it closer, keeping a hand on it as she added the flour, cocoa powder, and salt.

Taking great pains not to touch him, she slowly poured the dry mixture into the first bowl as he stirred. When it was all in, she cleared her throat and said, “Okay, you can beat it faster now.”

He snorted, and in distress, Keala turned around, putting her hands over her cheeks. Her whole body was warm now, and she didn’t know if it was all embarrassment or if some of it had to do with the thrill that shot through her at the thought of him…fucking his hand.

She was going to have to talk to Ikaika about not abandoning her when Landon was around.

Once the mixture was smooth, they divided it between cupcake tins, leaving the extra for another round.

“I didn’t get enough trays,” she stated the obvious.

“I would offer to go to my apartment to get some, but I’m not much of a baker.” He moved past her with the two trays and put them into the oven.

Keala hummed. “Well, you’re a great assistant baker.”

Landon turned, placing a hand on either side of her and grinning down at her. “Oh, I’m great at listening to instructions.” His voice was low, and it was the only piece of the situation that reminded her that her cousin was in the other room, still in earshot if they talked loudly enough.

“That’s astonishing,” she answered somewhat breathlessly, looking anywhere but his lips, the dimple carved in his cheek, or the look in his eyes that she worried might be mirrored in her own.

“I know. Just depends on who’s ordering.”

Keala cleared her throat. His smile widened, and there was now no safe place to look. He was, quite simply, too damn handsome, and he knew it. “And if I tell you to move away from me?”

Not because she wasn’t enjoying this. Based on the fluttering in her stomach and the feeling that stretched down between her legs, she most certainly was and would probably need to do something about it later. Alone. She had asked the question because she couldn’t think straight.

Because if she was thinking straight, she would have recognized that this was a horrible idea.

“I would ask if you’re absolutely certain you want that, because by the way you’re looking at my lips, I’m not sure you do.” He paused. “Don’t you wanna lean forward and see if it feels the same as it did that first night? Don’t you want to do us both a favor and finish what we started? Or are you too perfect to slip up again?” he taunted.

Damn him.

It took great effort, but she placed her hands on the parts of his chest that weren’t bruised and pushed gently. She knew if he’d wanted, he wouldn’t have budged, but he listened to what she was unable to say and removed his arms from around her.

Seemingly unaffected, he checked the recommended time on Keala’s phone screen and then moved to the clock app. He set a timer for sixteen minutes instead of the twenty the recipe called for, and when Keala frowned at him, he smiled.

“In case you want to go take care of yourself. Building in some time for cleanup.” He inclined his head in the direction of her room, chuckling to himself while he walked back into the living room.

Keala stood, stunned silent, and not convinced he wasn’t a mind reader.