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Though nothing in the world could have prepared her for the moment he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against her jaw.
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He didn’t kiss her. Instead, his lips ghosted over what had to be the only unmarked sliver of skin she had left.
Panic stirred at the back of her mind, but something in his movements made her relax. He wasn’t brutal or rough. Just…patient. He angled his face, but carefully, ensuring his skin contacted hers. As a result, his breath basted her skin, lessening some of the discomfort in the bruised areas. It was strange. His mouth nudged a tender bruise on her cheek next. Rather than pain, she felt…
Better.
It was as if his touch was magic—but he didn’t stop there. His lips blazed a trail along her entire jaw. Her nose. Her swollen upper lip. When he finally stilled, his mouth hovered inches from hers.
His nearness made her dizzy, but though her heart pounded, she wasn’t afraid. Not even as she felt his fingers untangle the remains of her braid to cup the back of her skull. Like lightning, a million thoughts jolted through her all at once—stupidthoughts.
The main one being that he couldn’t mean to… He couldn’t possiblykissher. Her lip was busted, and he didn’t evenknowher. Not to mention the fact that he had to at least be in his mid-twenties, several years older than her.
None of that, however, mattered more than the simple fact that hecouldn’tkiss her because…
“I’m making cookies!”
The excited proclamation came from the kitchen, and Loren recoiled against the couch while Officer McGoven stood, crossing his arms.
“What the hell did you just say?” he bellowed.
“Cookies,” Sonia cheerfully reiterated, poking her head through the doorway. “I found some stuff in your cupboards.”
“Sonia…” McGoven rolled his eyes, but, overall, his expression revealed none of the shock Loren felt. As if it were the most natural thing in the world to press his mouth against a stranger’s face and walk away with no explanation.
She wasn’t so unaffected. Boys her own age were an enigma, and men… In her experience, their touch only inspired terror, nothing more—until now. Her cheek tingled, but not like the slaps she was used to enduring. In fact, her face felt better overall. Numb instead of throbbing.
On second thought, McGoven’s unshaken demeanor seemed to be an act he put on for her benefit. His eyes kept darting to the window—the woods. While he’d safely wrangled Xavier, something had him worried. Suddenly, he cocked his head as if picking up a noise.
Loren strained her ears but heard nothing. A heartbeat later, McGoven was storming across the room.
“You came alone?” Belatedly, Loren realized he was speaking to Sonia.
“Yes.” The woman barely looked up from the contents of a bowl she was stirring. “Why?”
“Nothing—” His frown deepened, and he eyed the window more intently. Did he see something? Suddenly, he lunged for the doorway. “Stay here. I’m heading out.”
He was at the front door before Loren could blink.
Sonia didn’t seem worried. “Kay,” she called back. “I’ll save you some cookies.”
McGoven only grunted in acknowledgment before leaving, letting the door slam behind him. Alone, Loren crept into the kitchen. Without his cold mystery as a contrast, Sonia flitted across the space with childlike energy that betrayed her youth. She couldn’t be any older than her early twenties.
“I hope you like sweets?” she asked once she caught Loren staring. “I think they’ll have to be sugar, though. He doesn’t seem to have any chocolate chips. He always was a health nut. You know, he used to eat tuna by the can every day. What a freak of nature—” Beaming, she looked at Loren only to realize that she wasn’t in on the joke. “Oh… Well, let’s just say where we come from, beef is the most common thing on the menu, cooked rare, if at all.”
Her father must have been from the same place. Steak seemed to be all he ever ate—unless beer counted as a meal item. The thought unnerved her for some reason, tugging at a memory on the periphery of her consciousness. Why couldn’t she remember?
“Where are you from?” she asked absently. Now that she thought about it, McGoven didn’t seem like the other citizens of New Walsh. He wasn’t stuck-up like Naomi Tanner, or hostile to outsiders like her father.
“Somewhere far from here,” Sonia said warily. “Bill and I grew up together. In a place called Black Mountain. Ever hear of it?”
Loren shook her head.
“Really?” Sonia’s eyes widened, but she disguised her surprise behind a tinkling laugh. “Well, it’s beautiful, but not exactly a haven of culture. Tuna fish is about the most exotic thing on our menu. Though, luckily, we do love our cookies. Wanna give me a hand?”
“S-sure.”
