Page 15 of The Last Key
He waves in response, then staggers out the door and down the stairs.
“Poor Martin,” Kennedy says.
“He’ll be all right,” Gladys says. “But we’ve got an hour until we open for lunch. Only two reservations today, but several of the guests have been coming down routinely, and you know people from town always stop in. If we’re closing, we need to decide.”
I glance over at Kennedy. “What do you think? Want to work the kitchen with me? I think the two of us could handle it. It’s all sandwiches, salads, soups, and burgers.”
She smiles brightly. “I’d love to. Let’s do it.”
Gladys smiles, too. “Good. Crissy should be in soon to help you out. She had an appointment this morning. All the cold foods should be prepped, it’s just a matter of assembly and warming or cooking a few hot dishes.”
“After you,” I say, gesturing for Kennedy to go first.
We walk through the nearby door that leads down a hallway. Beyond the double doors is the kitchen, gleaming with stainless steel counters and bright white lights.
“Just like I remember,” Kennedy says. “When I used to helpMartin in the kitchen some weekends, the first thing he’d have me do was check the pantry.”
She turns and walks over to the side of the room where the small pantry is.
Slowly, I follow her, then stand in the doorway, watching her look over the supplies. After a moment, she turns and puts her hand on her hip. “You could help, you know.”
“Right. Sorry.”
Walking into the room is like walking through a time warp. We could be fourteen looking for something to play spin the bottle with all over again. My eyes follow the same path they did that day, watching her ass stick out as she bends over—though she has a much rounder, sexier ass to look at now—and watching her sweater lift and show off the skin of her low back whenever she presses onto her toes.
She spins around. “You’re still not doing anything.”
“Do you remember that day?” I ask, lost in the memory.
“Uh, we’ve known each other a long time, Dev. You might have to narrow it down.”
A smile curves up my face. “Spin the bottle.”
The words cause her eyes to widen. She sputters for a second. “Yeah. Of course I remember it. Every girl at the party wanted to kiss you.” She rolls her eyes.
I step closer. “Yet, when you asked me who I wanted to kiss, I didn’t mention their names.”
“Devon,” she breathes, but I’m not sure if it’s out of anticipation or annoyance. So I keep going, resting my hand on her arm, just like I did that day.
“I said there was only one girl I wanted to kiss. Then I grabbed your arm.” I run my thumb over her skin. “Just like this. I looked into your eyes. What did you think I was going to do?”
She stares at me for a moment, then licks her lips. They part and my heart hammers. I move closer, still waiting for her answer. Her eyes roll over my face, then she glances at the pantry door,and the magic of the moment is broken. The tension dissipates, and just like she did that day, she steps back.
“It doesn’t matter. Because that’s when those girls showed up at the door, and I knew…” She takes a breath, looking for the right words. “It would’ve been stupid.”
She doesn’t make eye contact with me before spinning around and focusing on the shelves again.
Damn.
All these years, I thought she stopped things because she didn’t want more from me. It never occurred to me she was jealous or frustrated by the attention the other girls were giving me.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, I lean down and whisper, “For the record, Kend, it never would’ve been stupid.”
Then I walk out of the room, on fire from those slight touches, and sweating through my shirt.
If we keep going like this, I might combust before anything ever happens with her. But I know with certainty now, I’m not letting her leave Brighton without kissing her, tasting her, letting her know exactly how I feel.
CHAPTER FIVE
