Page 71 of Beautiful Distraction

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Sightseeing after dusk is another bad idea that’s just mademy bad-ideas-in-Montana list.

A balmy breeze whispers around us as Kellan leads me out ofthe bar and into the dark street. A group of teens squeeze past us, pushing meinto him so hard I almost take a tumble. His hand reaches around my waist,steadying me until I’ve regained my equilibrium.

“Hey, guys, watch it,” he calls after the teens, his voiceconveying more anger than is necessary.

“It’s okay.” I touch his arm.

Kellan shakes his head. I can feel the waves of angerwafting from him. Suddenly, he seems a million miles away.

“Hey.” I touch his arm again, this time to get hisattention. “They’re just kids having a good time.”

His attention returns to me, and for a second I think I seesomething in his eyes.

A fierceness that isn’t lust.

A spark that isn’t want.

He’s protective.

My body’s still pressed up against him. His arm is stillwrapped around my waist.

I use the proximity and rise on my toes to kiss the cornerof his mouth, though only manage to reach up as far as his chin.

“What was that for?” Kellan asks, his tone just a littlehoarser than it should be.

I shrug and ease out of his embrace. “You’re not such a badguy after all.”

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.” His lipstwitch, the heaviness between us gone.

“I didn’t say you were a good guy either.”

His arm goes around my waist. “I know almost nothing aboutyou.”

The statement takes me by surprise. My eyes rise to meethis, and I flinch at what I see in them.

For a moment, it’s like I’m looking at a differentperson…someone who’s genuinely interested in me, not in peeling off any layersof my inhibitions.

Or maybe it’s a ploy to do just that.

Either way, I sort of like the sudden gentleness about him.

“I’m a single child. Both of my parents are composers.”

“Ah,” he says. “That’s why you hate music.”

“No.” I frown as I consider his statement. “Maybe. I’m notsure.” I shrug. “Does it matter? They wanted me to follow in their footsteps,but I wasn’t really interested. For the life of me, I just couldn’t figure outthe cello. Surely you can imagine how disappointed they were that I didn’tinherit their talents. I wasn’t a child prodigy. They were so enthusiastic andpushy, until one day they realized their plans of raising the female version ofBeethoven or Mozart were nothing but a pipe dream.”

“So, what did you do?”

I shrug. “I moved out, went to college to study journalism,and now I write articles.”

“About what?”

I laugh. “Whatever pays the bills. I’m a journalist. Mostly,I dig out all the crap I can find about companies and expose them.”

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