Page 7

Kenna

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Kingsley stepped inside the bar, looked around, and headed toward the counter. Kenna focused on the flow of beer filling the mug, even though she'd spotted him the second he walked inside.

She shut off the tap and added the beer to the tray. "Rebecca? Drinks are ready."

"Thanks, sweets." Rebecca picked up the tray with ease and walked out onto the floor.

Kenna used the towel and wiped the drips from the drain grid. Without looking, she sensed Kingsley standing in front of her.

"Do you know what you'd like to order?" she asked, avoiding his eyes.

"You."

Her neck warmed. She refused to show him how needy she was for his attention. It'd been hell living at the house, knowing he slept under the same roof.

"Take a break and come with me."

"I can't. I'm working." She looked at his brown eyes and wished she hadn't.

Her chest hurt. The ache that dwelled inside of her grew each day she had to live without him.

"I'll clear it with Lori." He winked. "I'll even make sure you get paid."

"Kingsley, don't," she muttered, frowning.

He walked into the kitchen, not allowing her to tell him no. She walked to the back shelf, picked up the box of napkins, and refilled the two closest dispensers. The idea of going anywhere alone with Kingsley filled her with butterflies.

She half hoped he'd whisk her away and half dreaded spending time with him.

The door opened, and Lori stepped out of the kitchen. After searching the room, she pointed at Kenna. "Take a break."

"But—"

"Go." Lori shook her head and shooed her with her hands.

Exhaling swiftly, she set down the box. Kingsley walked over to her and held out his hand. She wasn't going to give him more to gloat about, so she kept her hands to herself as she walked out the front door.

"Can you tell me what we're doing?" she asked.

He pointed downhill to the garage where a UTV sat in front of the building. "I need to check something out on the other side of the mountain and want company."

"Ask one of your biker buddies," she said.

"It's not their company I want." He walked to the side-by-side. "Hop in and buckle up, brat."

She eyed the seat. There wasn't much room for both of them. She'd need to touch him to fit inside.

He folded himself behind the steering wheel and patted the seat. "Come on. Time's a wastin'."

"You sound old, saying that." She slid into the seat.

He reached around her, grabbed the seatbelt, and locked her in, meeting her gaze. "Compared to you, I am."

The vehicle roared to life, and Kingsley shot forward, going in a wide circle before heading straight toward the trees. She grabbed the seat, afraid he'd run them into the trunk of one of the big pines.

He swerved, going over a bump, sending the UTV bouncing. "Hang on. It'll get smoother."

She couldn't answer. Her teeth knocked together. Afraid they'd tip out of the vehicle, she braced herself.

He slowed and drove around a tree. Her body stopped bouncing and she pulled her fingernails out of the seat cushion.

"How far are we going?" she yelled over the loud engine.

"Half an hour or so."

She frowned. That was longer than a fifteen-minute break. Rebecca was going to be pissed. The dinner crowd from the campground was due soon.

He drove the vehicle higher onto the mountain. The trees thinned, and rock cropping lined the dirt trail. There were definitely two tire tracks in the ground, but wild grass and flowers had grown in their path.

A hawk swooped down and landed on a tree in front of them. She looked up as they passed. Every day, there were wild animals in Gem Haven. If it wasn't deer and elk coming close to nibble on vegetation, it was a moose that drank out of the trough at the campground.

The UTV tilted, and they headed downhill. She glanced over her shoulder. It looked as if they'd reached the top and planned to go down the other side of the mountain.

Kingsley palmed her thigh, squeezing her leg. She jumped, more ticklish than startled. Before she could question why he touched her, he slowed to a stop and shut off the side-by-side.

He unclicked her seatbelt. "Jump out."

He left her unbalanced. Do this. Don't do this. Come here. Go there. She had no time to prepare herself for spending time with him.

She stepped over a small bush, trying to get her bearings on how to get to where Kingsley stood, peering down the mountain. Saplings dotted the land. She wouldn't want to step on a baby tree.

She worked her way to his side, followed his line of vision, and spotted what had grabbed his attention. A quaint cabin sat in a grove below them, much like the cabins lined up behind the clubhouse. There were raised flowerbeds in seven neat rows. Laundry hung from a clothesline at the side of the cabin.

She glanced at Kingsley, wondering why he'd bring her here. He wasn't happy. There was a defined frown etched into his face.

"I need to talk to the woman who lives in the cabin." He picked up her hand. "I want you to stay beside me."

"Woman?"

He glanced at her and grinned. "Jealous?"

"As if." She rolled her eyes.

His expression shifted, and he caressed the back of her head, pulling her closer and kissing her forehead. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking in that tenderness she'd missed from him.

"You have nothing to worry about. It's club business." He moved, leading her by the hand.

She followed him over the uneven ground, descending the mountain until they stepped into a clearing. Kingsley looked around and then approached the cabin.

"Hello?" he shouted. "Anyone home?"

No one answered. He stepped to the door and knocked against the thick wood. Kenna clung to his free hand. Despite the quaintness of the home and the beautiful array of flowers growing all around her, she couldn't imagine anyone living so far from civilization. There were no power lines to the dwelling, no road, no car. The woman must live off the land—and that was unimaginable to her.

"You're trespassing."

Kingsley turned, sweeping his arm out and putting Kenna behind him. "We're not here to hurt you."

"Then, you better walk out the way you walked in," said a woman.

Kenna peeked out from behind Kingsley, hiding her surprise. The woman, probably fifty years old, pointed a rake at them.

"I'm Ridge Stafford's son," said Kingsley.

"I didn't ask you to come here." The woman's tone never changed. "I only contacted Big John because your dad wanted me to. I don't need anyone coming around. Just leave me in peace."

"You have contact with my dad?" asked Kingsley.

The woman lowered the garden tool. "We write."

From everything she'd heard about Zane's dad, she never pictured him writing a letter. She stepped to the side to get a better view of the woman.

She was beautiful in a down-to-earth way. Her long black hair, sprinkled with gray, hung to her waist. She wore jeans, cowgirl boots, and a white top with short sleeves that moved with the breeze. She was tall and slim. Her confidence was off the chart.

"Dad asked us to secure the cabin." Kingsley paused. "That includes protecting you."

"I don't—"

"If you know my dad, you also know you have no say in what he wants done." Zane reached for Kenna's hand. "There will be someone from Gem Haven Motorcycle Club around. I'll make sure they know not to bother you unless there is trouble. You can speak with anyone from the club. If you need to contact me or Zane, just let a member know, and they'll send us a message." Zane looked around him. "If you'd feel safer, you're welcome to stay—"

"I'm fine here," she said.

Zane dipped his chin. "If you see anyone, let us know."

He stepped away from the woman, leading Kenna away. She hurried to keep up with his longer stride, more confused about what they were doing here after overhearing the conversation. Why would Kingsley's dad want the woman protected? Was it not safe here?

After the recent arsonists setting fire to the mountain, the new hint of danger set her on edge.

Once they reached the UTV, Kenna grabbed onto the rollbar and caught her breath from the hike up the mountain. She wanted to ask Kingsley what was happening, but that would have invited him to talk to her. She wasn't ready to open a line of communication between them yet.

Kingsley peered down at the cabin. She looked for the woman, but there was no sign of her.

She couldn't stop herself. "Is the woman in danger?"

"I don't know." Kingsley hooked her behind the neck and dragged her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her. "Dad wants us to watch her."

"Does that upset you?" Her concern for him kept her from pulling away.

He was tense and quiet, which usually meant he was thinking too much. She'd seen him do it many times before and hated it when he shut himself off from her. He'd always tell her it was grown-up problems and nothing she should bother herself with.

But she was an adult now.

"I don't know," he muttered again. "There's something about her that..."

She waited, but he never finished. "What?"

"She looks familiar." He kissed Kenna's forehead. "Probably just one of the bitches that used to hang around the clubhouse years ago." He sighed. "Nothing to worry about."

"I should go back to work. It's unfair to Lori and Rebecca to cover for me this long." She stepped away from him and rubbed the chill off her arms. "Zane gave me the job because you need more help in the bar. I don't want to disappoint him."

He grabbed her hands and pulled her toward him, claiming her mouth. She grabbed his vest and hung on as the intensity of having his lips on her made her bones weak. It was as if he tried to erase all her worries with that one kiss, to communicate everything he couldn't say to make up for lying to her for years.

When he pulled back, his dark eyes searched hers, filled with mixed emotions she couldn't understand. "Miss you, brat," he whispered, his voice rougher than usual. "Stop pushing me away."

Her resolve wavered, and she nodded slowly, letting herself sink back into his embrace.

"I need you," he murmured against her hair.

She nestled closer to him, finding comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I need you, too," she whispered back.

They stood in silence, not talking about the past or the future. She held on to him as if the world no longer existed.

It was a fragile peace he offered her, but in that instant, it was enough.