Beth Kery - Since I Saw You

“I’m sorry about your . . .” He glanced down at her knees, regret swamping him. “I tried to take the pressure off them by standing, but—”

“I know you did,” she said. “I’m not blaming you. It’s my fault. I’m the one who let it happen.”

He made a disbelieving sound at that. “You make it sound like you agreed to a crime. We didn’t commit murder together,” he added darkly.

She closed her eyes. He flinched inwardly, seeing her discomposure. “You don’t understand. I don’t do things like this.”

“You obviously do now,” he said before he could stop himself. “Why is that such a problem?” She shot him an anxious glance and draped her wrap over her shoulders, covering herself.

“Lin, wait—” he called out when she moved past him. She unlocked the door. “We still need to talk.”

“I know. We still need to discuss the details of the Klinf meeting this weekend. I also need you to tell me all that you require for the first demonstration of your device for the Gersbachs. I’ll call,” she said.

And she was gone.

For several seconds, he just stared blindly up at the ceiling, replaying the last half hour of his life and trying to make sense of it, with not a modicum of success. They’d gone from combustible lust to uncontrollable, wild, blistering sex to Lin saying the only thing they had to discuss was business.

“C’est vraiment des conneries,” he cursed bitterly before he stalked out of the cloakroom and slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

The Coffee Boutique was hopping with customers when he arrived. He understood from Lucien that while Elise’s heralded new restaurant was the soul of their hotel, the coffeehouse was the heart of the thriving microcommunity. It was the comfortable living room of the luxurious establishment, a place where travelers, locals, and tourists alike lounged on deep couches and chairs and sipped premium coffees that had been individually prepared with chicory-roasted beans. They devoured mouthwatering confections made by Elise’s pastry chef. Some of the patrons read books and magazines they’d bought at the attached bookstore that specialized in first editions, rare books, and antiquities. Lucien must have spent about what Kam survived off of annually on the two space-age coffee makers behind the bar.

Not that Kam was focused on any of these niceties. His purpose was single-minded as he stalked into the energetic room. He saw Lucien exiting the coffee bar at the same time he was entering. He gave Kam a bland look as they met, and paused.

“What happened to you?” Lucien asked.

“What?” Kam demanded sourly.

“You look like you’re about to kick someone’s ass. And your shirttail is hanging out,” Lucien added calmly under his breath as several patrons passed them.

“Merde,” Kam muttered, shoving his shirt down into his pants. He never wanted to dress like this to begin with. He wouldn’t be trussed up in this damn suit if it weren’t for Lin.

“Did something happen with Gersbach?” Lucien asked.

“No. It went well with the Gersbachs.”

“Was Lin pleased?” Lucien asked, glancing in the direction of the lobby as if in search of her.

“What, my opinion isn’t good enough?” Kam growled.

Lucien’s eyes narrowed on him. “Trying to pick a fight?” he asked levelly, gray eyes as cool and sharp as a driving ice pick. “Pick a better target. I’ve got too much work to do at the moment. If you still feel like a spar tomorrow, give me a call and we’ll go a couple rounds at the gym.”

Kam rolled his eyes in mounting frustration when Lucien walked past him. His eldest brother was intimidating and tough, but it was his control that was already growing legendary in Kam’s mind.

He’d apologize to Lucien for his rudeness tomorrow. Tonight, he was done being a polite, powdered good boy. Lucien was right. He did feel like kicking someone’s ass just for the satisfaction of hearing his victim thump to the floor.

“Lin didn’t feel well and had to leave,” Kam said to Ian without any preamble when he approached the seating area where Ian and Francesca lounged. “She wanted me to tell you.”

“Oh no,” Francesca said, concerned. “Was she all right to go home by herself?”

“She seemed to think so.”

Francesca glanced at Ian with arched brows at Kam’s curt reply. She cleared her throat and stood. “If you two will just excuse me for a moment? I’ve decided that the baby’s favorite room is going to be the bathroom, as much time as he wants me to spend in there.”

“Have a seat,” Ian said quietly when Francesca walked away, nodding at the chair across from him.

Kam gave his brother a sidelong glare. “I’m not really in the mood for—”

“Sit down, Kam,” Ian repeated more succinctly.

“I said I’m not in the mood,” Kam repeated through a clenched jaw. “I’m not in the mood for any of this crap,” he said, waving in a frustrated manner around the luxurious, crowded coffeehouse.

Ian stood, his mouth set in a hard line. “Will you just sit down and talk to me for five minutes? Is it really that hard?”

“No, it’s not that hard,” Kam snarled. “I just don’t want to fucking do it.” Ian glanced aside and Kam noticed several people looking their way. They’d both raised their voices.

“Just for a moment?” Ian persisted in a level but determined tone. “Please?”

Kam sat, feeling cornered. He didn’t feel like being still. He had a wild urge to go back to the gym at his hotel and punish his body with a rigorous workout, or maybe go running for miles and miles on the lakefront—

“Did something happen with the Gersbachs?” Ian began, brows slanted dangerously.

“No.”

“Everything seemed to be going well. Francesca said everyone seemed mellow during the showing. From the little I glimpsed as you left the restaurant, I’d say Otto looked pleased. I thought you seemed all right as well. Lin certainly seemed happy. She must have gotten sick soon after that.”

Kam just stared at his brother, all signs of irritation gone from his face, all traces of anything vanished. Ian looked down at the coffee table between them and idly began flipping a sugar packet with his long fingers.

“I’m going to try to be careful about saying this, Kam. I hope you understand that I’m coming from a . . . sensitive place?” Kam didn’t reply, but he grew tenser in his chair. “Lin isn’t just an invaluable member of my staff. She’s a very good friend. I’ve known her since she was seventeen years old, you know.”

It wasn’t really a question, so Kam still didn’t reply.

“Lin hasn’t been all that fortunate with the men she’s dated in the past.”

He sensed the electrical thread in Ian’s seemingly neutral comment. He leaned forward in his chair. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, gaze narrowing.

“Just that. Very few men seem to have the ability to appreciate her character. Her refinements. Her sensitivities.”

“You make her sound like some kind of inbred show poodle,” Kam stated bluntly. He glanced impatiently around the confines of the coffeehouse, despising walls at that moment. “She’s a lot hardier than you make her out to be. Maybe you don’t know her all that well.”

“And you do?” Ian challenged, his quiet voice like steel. “Because I’d hate to see you put Lin in the same category as say . . . some of those hardy women you kept company with at Aurore, for instance.”

Kam’s gaze zoomed to meet his brother’s. Ian’s stare didn’t waver.

“Don’t get all holier-than-thou with me,” Kam seethed, shocked and infuriated at Ian’s reference. His brother had accidentally walked in on Kam engaging in the midst of some spontaneous recreation with two women last summer at Aurore. Ian had been circumspect enough not to mention the uncomfortable moment. That he brought it up now in association with Lin pissed off Kam royally. “Don’t try to convince me you led a monk’s existence before you met Francesca, because that’s just offensive. And Lin doesn’t have anything, whatsoever to do with that situation,” he emphasized by aggressively tapping his fingertips on the tabletop.

Ian’s gaze narrowed. Kam glared back. Finally, Ian exhaled.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said frankly.

Kam took his fisted hand off the table. Merde. He really didn’t want to fight with Ian. But dammit, why did he have to be so smug at times?

Because he usually knows exactly what he’s talking about, that’s why. He’s never given me bad advice before, and for whatever fucked-up reason, he seems to actually care.

And if he were in Ian’s shoes, wouldn’t he think of warning a guy like himself away from Lin? It was just common sense, wasn’t it? A woman like Lin would never find much worth for a man like Kam except for sex, and after tonight, she probably was second-guessing even that.

Kam heaved a sigh as well, feeling defeated, but not by Ian. The mounting tension between them had broken, although Kam wasn’t sure exactly why.

“Don’t bring Lin into this. It’s my fault. I’m the one that’s struggling with being here . . . this whole damn thing,” he mumbled, sinking back in his chair. “I’m a fish out of water.”

“If this particular line of business is unsuited to you, Kam, that’s something we can deal with,” Ian said quietly. “I don’t want that to be your sole focus here. This is your first visit to the States—to the city where Lucien and I have made our homes. Let’s make that the focus.”

Kam transferred his gaze to Francesca as she approached the table, giving him a bright smile. He tried to smile back, but his muscles twisted uncooperatively. He suspected he grimaced instead. “Why don’t you come to the penthouse right now for a cup of tea or something,” Ian said.

“Wonderful idea,” Francesca said, hearing the last as she arrived.

“Come on,” Ian urged. “We’ll have a talk. About whatever you want,” he added when he saw Kam’s hesitance. He certainly didn’t want to have any more incendiary conversations about Lin or Kam’s sex life. “It’s a beautiful night. We can turn on the fire pit up on the deck and sit under the stars.”

He gave Ian a sheepish glance, feeling doubly guilty about his outburst. Ian had guessed he’d reached his limit for crowds and civilized conversation and confinement. He really did read Kam well for having only known him nine months.

“Make that tea a bourbon and you’ve got a deal,” Kam mumbled, standing.

Did Kam think Lucien, Ian, and him would end up bosom brothers, the idealistic family featured in make-believe and television sitcoms? Not a chance. Not with their common screwed-up origins.

Still, there must have been a whisper of a promise of something that had enticed him out of his solitude and brought him to Chicago, he admitted to himself with dark amusement.

He trailed Ian and Francesca, who walked arm in arm, out of the bustling coffeehouse. Francesca paused abruptly, making Ian halt in turn. She extended her free hand to Kam with a warm smile. He hesitated a second before he took it, managing to return her smile this time without frowning. Or at least he hoped so.

The next morning, Lin methodically briefed Ian on how things had gone with the Gersbach meeting. Ian listened intently as he sat at his desk and she sat in her usual chair before it. She must have reinforced her defenses as she slept last night, because she felt back on track today . . . steadier. In the morning light, what had happened in that cloakroom with Kam seemed like an incredible dream—an exciting, forbidden dream, yes, but also a foreign one, as if she’d somehow tapped into someone else’s brain.

It was fortunate, this morning-light distance, because last night, she’d feared becoming completely unwound. The feeling was not entirely unfamiliar to her, a mild version of the numbness that settled upon her when she finally understood that her father and mother had left for Taiwan, leaving her behind for good.

“Why hasn’t Kam mentioned before that he’s uncomfortable with only a small portion of the population having his product?” Ian asked.

“You probably know the answer to that better than I do,” Lin replied.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Ian said slowly, studying her face.

“Your brother thinks a lot of things, Ian. The problem is getting him to reveal them. One has to either wait for the right opportunity for something to come out or pry the details out of him, and good luck with that,” she added wryly.