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I watch her and feel everything in me coil in rage when I see the bruise on her jawline.
“He put his fucking hands on you.”
Her gaze whips up to mine, and she immediately shakes her head.
“No, I was trying to open something, and it was stuck. When it came free, I whacked myself in the chin. Joey’s a lot of things, but he’s never hit me, Kane. Honest.”
I sip my water, seething. Yes, Joey is a lot of things.
“I wouldn’t lie to you,” she continues. “Also, you look angrier than normal this morning.”
“I’m rarely angry.”
“Moody then. You’re always moody. What’s wrong with you?”
I don’t know that I’m comfortable telling my sister about the woman I had in my bed just three nights ago, or that the blasted woman left that bed while I slept.
“I’ve been working for three days.”
“Straight?”
I shrug a shoulder and finish off my water, then toss the reusable bottle into the sink.
“I hate it when you do this,” she says. “It’s dangerous work when you’ve slept well, but to work for days on end without rest isn’t safe at all, Kane.”
“I love you, too.” I kiss her head and walk out to the sunporch. I had it all glassed in so I could use it year-round and enjoy the view.
“That’s not all that’s bothering you.”
“Have I ever told you that you’re a pain in my backside, Mary Margaret?”
She tips her head to the side, watching me with eyes as green as the hills of Ireland. Both Maggie and our sister, Maeve, have deep auburn hair, while the men in the family—me, Keegan, and Shawn—were blessed with dark hair.
Two gingers in the family are quite enough. Their tempers are unparalleled.
“It must be a woman,” Maggie says as she sits on a couch and invites Murphy to join her. He curls up next to her, watching her with adoration in his brown eyes. “Tell me everything.”
“It’s lack of sleep.”
“Spill it,” she insists with a grin, showing me the dimples in her cheeks. I never could resist either of my sisters.
“I met a woman at the hospital party over the weekend.”
“What’s her name?”
“Anastasia.”
“That’s a fancy name.” Maggie waggles her eyebrows, making me chuckle. “So, she hasn’t returned your calls?”
“I haven’t called her.”
“Right. Because you don’t use your bloody phone.”
“I didn’t get her number.”
Maggie frowns, watching me as I push my fingers through my hair and pace the porch.
“So, you like her?”
“Yeah. I saw her twice in two days.” I tell her about finding Anastasia in my museum, and then again at the party. I even tell her that I took Anastasia back to my room.
“Wait.” Maggie holds up a hand. “You had sex with her?”
“Yes.”
“Wow.” She blinks at me. “You don’t do that, Kane. I mean, you’re not innocent, but you don’t make a habit of sleeping with strangers.”
“I don’t, no.”
“And your Irish is showing,” she says with a slow smile. Maggie’s always said my accent is thicker when I’m riled up. She’s probably right. “You need to find her.”
“I don’t think she’s after being found,” I say with frustration. “She left in the middle of the night, while I was sleeping.”
“You actually slept?”
“Like a bloody baby,” I mutter. I never sleep well, haven’t since I was a lad. But with Anastasia, I fell asleep and slept like the dead until the sunlight hit me the next morning.
And she was gone.
“You had sex, you slept, and you’re still messed up over her. You obviously have to find her, Kane.”
“How?”
Maggie tosses her head back and laughs, waking Murphy and stopping his snoring.
“You’re going to have to join this century and Google her. Do you know her last name?”
“Montgomery.”
“What else do you know?”
“She makes wedding cakes.”
“Piece of cake. Pun intended.” Maggie giggles as she pulls her phone out of her pocket. “Now, since yours is probably dead, you can use mine.”
She taps the screen, then passes it to me.
“What am I looking at?”
My sister sighs deeply in disappointment. “Dude, you sound like you’re ninety. It’s the Google home screen. All you have to do is type her name and wedding cakes into the box and see what comes up.”
I do as she says, and when I tap the magnifying glass, the screen fills with images of Anastasia, her cakes, and articles that have been written about her.
“What did you find?” Maggie asks.
“More than enough to find her,” I mutter and then smile at my sister. “Looks like I have an address for her shop.”
“Awesome. So, are you headed there now? I’ll stay with Murphy.”
“She left, Maggie. In the middle of the night. I’m going to venture a guess and say she most likely doesn’t want to be found.”
“There’s no harm in going to talk to her.”
Just the thought of seeing her again, of touching her smooth skin and kissing her soft lips, sets my blood singing through my body.
