Page 20 of Safe in His Arms


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Yes, actually. It did. She nodded.

“Okay, then. If he comes back, we’ll make it clear that we see what he’s doing and we’re not going to lie down and play dead.” She patted Megan’s shoulder. “So, you’ll stay. I’m glad that’s cleared up.”

“Um. I—”

“If you can’t afford to pay board, don’t worry about it. You can work in the kitchen with Tee, and we’ll call it even.”

Enough was enough. Even if Kat was trying to be kind, there was a limit to the charity she’d accept.

“I can absolutely pay board.” She’d squirreled away enough money from those under-the-table baking jobs to get her through a few weeks, at which point she hoped to have found employment. “But I’d love to help out in the kitchen. Baking is my passion.”

“Okay, we’re agreed.” Kat offered a hand, and Megan shook it. Kat’s grip was firm, her palm cool, and her smile wide and mischievous. Megan frowned. Had she been expertly maneuvered into doing exactly what the other woman wanted? If so, props to Kat. She hadn’t even realized she’d implicitly agreed to stay until after it had happened.

“If you want to use the kitchen when Tee isn’t around, go right ahead. Just clean up after yourself. He’s a bear if anyone messes up his space.”

“Got it.” If Megan were the huggy type, she’d be all over Kat right now, but that wasn’t her. Never had been. “Thank you.” She chose her next words carefully. “I’m not taking your kindness for granted. I know how rare it can be.”

“Oh, Megan.” Kat stepped closer and kissed her cheek. “You’re a sweetheart.” Her gaze shifted to the door. “I can see Tee wants to come back, so I won’t hold you up any longer. You know where to find me if you need me.”

With one last smile, she left. A moment later, Tione entered and took up where he’d left off with the filo. Following his cue, Megan offered to help with dinner since the apple crumble was ready to go, and neither of them said anything about the conversation she’d had with Kat. They worked in sync, as easily as if they’d done it a hundred times before. When the food had been served and they’d both scarfed down their own meals, he started in on the dishes and she grabbed a towel.

“You don’t need to do that,” he said. “You’ve helped more than enough already.”

She shrugged. “I helped make the mess, so I’ll help clean it.” That was the philosophy she’d always abided by.

“Suit yourself.”

They cleaned in silence, except for the splashing of water and clattering of dishes. When they finished, her feet and back ached, and she would have given anything for a long soak in a bubble bath, but she felt good. Really good. More like herself than she had since she’d moved in with Charles.

“I’ll come to your room in a moment,” he said. “I have an extra lock to install on your door.” She must have looked startled because he added, “Just a precaution.”

The kind of precaution that may prove invaluable.

“That would be great.”

They passed through the empty dining hall together and she went to her room while he went in the other direction. She left the door ajar, but he still knocked before coming in, and she appreciated it. He held a drill in one hand and a bolt in the other.

“This will be loud. Maybe you should go to the living room and I’ll get you when it’s done.”

“No, I’m fine here. I’d like to watch.” That way she’d know with absolutely surety how well protected she was. Although she supposed putting a lock on the door couldn’t stop someone from smashing a window.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He set to work, and she took the opportunity to study him properly while his attention was focused on the task at hand. Swirling Maori designs seemed to caress his beautiful bronzed forearms and moved fluidly as his muscles flexed. They twisted from his wrists to his biceps and vanished into the sleeves of his t-shirt. Did they extend all the way to his shoulders, or perhaps even across his chest? Maybe one day she’d have the chance to see for herself—say, if she were still here when next summer rolled around. She got the impression he’d be right at home walking around in nothing but board shorts, his tawny skin gleaming in the sun. That view alone would be worth staying for.

No, don’t go getting a crush. The timing couldn’t be worse.

She forced herself to look away from his arms, back at the lock that his talented hands were installing. When he’d finished, a layer of dust coated the floor, and the room smelled like hot wood. He started to sweep up the debris, but she stopped him.

“I can do that.”

He paused, looking up from his crouched position. “You sure?”

“Yeah, it’ll give me something to do other than think.” She’d done enough thinking, and stewing over her mistakes. At this point, any distraction was a good distraction.

Getting to his feet, he wiped his hands on his jeans. The action brought him closer than she’d expected, and she swallowed. Sawdust speckled his clothing and stuck to his skin, which was covered by a faint sheen of sweat. With his scruffy beard, inked body, and the way he looked like he’d spent the day doing hard manual labor, he was everything Charles wasn’t, and she’d never seen a sexier man.

Don’t be crazy. Your body is out of whack, that’s all.

His dark eyes watched her, and she wondered what he saw. A broken woman who’d made enough bad decisions to fill a lifetime? Or someone he could one day admire? She hoped for the latter, and she intended to do her best to live up to the promise of the person she could become again.

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