“No one serious, then?”
> She licked her bottom lip and he was distracted for the moment.
“There was a girl called Carla, for a while, but it fizzled out.”
“What happened?”
Kirsty pushed a plate with crackers and dip towards him.
“Come on, Lake,” she teased. “You’re the one who didn’t want to do small talk. I wasn’t the one who brought up the topic of past romance. ‘Fess up or call chicken.”
He straightened in his stool. Chicken his hairy behind.
“Carla wanted to get married and have kids. I didn’t.”
Something shifted in Kirsty’s manner.
“You’re one of those guys, then,” she said.
“Those guys?”
“Playboy, not interested in settling down.”
Lake bristled. He sure as hell wasn’t a playboy.
“I said I didn’t want to get married and settle down with Carla. She was...” He cast around for the right term. “Flighty,” he said eventually. The last straw for him had been when she’d taken up reading auras. He could get that kind of crap from his family. He didn’t need it from his girlfriend too.
“But no,” he told Kirsty. “I’m not against marriage. In general.”
They stared at each other for a moment. Lake could have sworn that the temperature shot up in the kitchen. At last Kirsty blinked and turned away.
“How do you like your steak?” She reached for a pan.
“Medium rare,” he said.
For some reason he was rewarded by a smile that lit up his world.
The fact Lake hated small talk actually made Kirsty feel more relaxed rather than less. She wanted to know about him. She was curious. He wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met before. Plus it was a relief to talk. She’d been half expecting him to jump her as soon as she opened the door. She’d been thrilled, and terrified, at the thought. But now a new thought was creeping through her brain. What if he’d changed his mind about her? What if he didn’t want her any more? What if the scars had put him off? Stupidly, that thought was growing louder by the minute, while the more sane thought of whether or not she wanted him was being drowned out.
They took their food to the little round dining table in the corner of her living room. It was nestled into a space by the window. Kirsty had spent ages setting the room up, making sure that the atmosphere was perfect. She wanted her home to be comfortable and welcoming, the lighting to hint at romance and the food to seduce. A little. Not a lot. She didn’t want anything to give out the “slut” message. She also didn’t want anything set in stone, just in case she changed her mind and sent him packing. She tried to stifle a sigh as she put her plate on the table. Unfortunately, Lake heard her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to stand beside him. He hooked an arm around her waist and looked down at her.
“You have no idea why you invited me over, do you?” he said.
“I thought I did.”
He ran his free hand over his chin.
“Okay,” he said. “How about this? Nothing is going to happen between me and you unless you want it to. Why don’t we eat and see where it goes after that?”
Kirsty’s stomach lurched. It was the scars. He didn’t want her any more. She turned her head and was about to pull away when he yanked her back.
“Just in case there is any confusion, I know where I want this evening to go. Straight through to the bedroom, with you naked on top of me.”
She gasped as her cheeks burned. Lake’s eyes darkened. And then something caught Kirsty’s attention out of the corner of her eye.
She looked out of the window, and clear as day, under the streetlights, she could see her mother, Heather and Shona. They were dressed head to toe in black. They even had black makeup smeared on their faces. And it looked like they were trying to break into Lake’s shop.
“Kirsty.” Lake shook her lightly to get her attention. “What is it?”