Sweet Destiny. Rochelle Alers
I can shoot the cap off a longneck thirty feet away.”
“Well, damn!” Selena drawled.
“There will be no talk of shootin’ ’round here,” Lily called out. “It’s enough I have to see my son and grandson carrying guns like they were attached to their bodies.”
Mia leaned closer to Selena. “She heard that?”
“My eyes aren’t as sharp as they used to be, but there’s not a darn thing wrong with my ears,” Lily said sharply.
“Would you prefer I carry a slingshot instead, Grandma?”
All gazes were trained on Kenyon as he strolled into the kitchen. Mia hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until she felt slightly light-headed. Kenyon was dressed entirely in black: T-shirt, jeans and thick black socks. He wasn’t wearing a belt, and the waistband on his jeans rode low on his waist. He also hadn’t bothered to shave, and the stubble on his lean jaw enhanced his blatant masculinity. His cropped black hair lay on his scalp without a hint of curl.
Lily glared at her grandson. “You don’t need to be sheriff.”
Kenyon ignored what had become his grandmother’s mantra, approached her and swung her up off the floor as easily as if she were a small child, kissing her cheek. “Good morning and Happy New Year, Grandma.” He released, then kissed Geneva. “Good morning, Aunt Gee.”
“Don’t you dare pick up me,” Selena warned as Kenyon came toward her. She rested her palms over her belly in a protective gesture.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt the baby.”
“What baby!?” Geneva gasped.
Selena affected a sheepish expression. “I’m still not sure. I want to wait until the end of the week to make certain.”
Geneva’s hand shook as she placed it over her mouth. She was expected to become grandmother of twins in another three months, and now the announcement that her daughter could be pregnant had shaken her normally unflappable composure.
“Why wait?”
Selena exhaled an audible sigh. “I don’t have a choice. It’s not as if I can wade through two feet of snow to buy a pregnancy kit.”
“I have a kit.”
Turning slowly, Kenyon stared at Mia. He’d thought her single, but now there was the possibility that she might be carrying another man’s baby. “Do you also suspect you’re pregnant?”
Mia felt a shiver of annoyance and embarrassment flood her body. If she was or wasn’t pregnant, it still was none of Kenyon’s business. Why, she thought, was he so interested in her personal life? “No. I am not pregnant. But I always carry a kit in my medical bag.” She felt a modicum of redemption when he managed to look embarrassed at her come back.
“Sorry about that,” he mumbled.
“Apology accepted.” Mia winked at Selena. “Do you or don’t you want to know?”
Geneva nodded her head like a bobblehead doll. “Say yes.”
Selena stared at her grandmother. “Do you want to know, Grandma Lily?”
Lily sat on a stool at the cooking island. “Take the test, Selena.”
“You already know, don’t you?”
“Stop badgering your grandmother and take the damn test,” Geneva spat out.
Selena jumped as if she’d been struck by a sharp object. She’d never known her mother to be so testy. “Oooo-kay,” she drawled. She sighed at the same time she blew out a breath. “Let’s go, Dr. Eaton. You just got your first patient.”
Mia gave Kenyon her best saccharine grin. “Kenyon, I need you to do something for me.”
Inky-black eyebrows lifted questioningly. “What is it?”
“I’m going to need you to help me get to my car. My medical bag is stored in a locked compartment under the hatch.”
She’d made arrangements for two drivers, one driving her SUV and the other a rental, to leave her car in Matewan. They were instructed to drive north to Charleston, leave the rental at the airport and take a return flight to Houston. If she hadn’t had to attend Denise’s wedding in Philadelphia she would’ve made the thousand-mile drive by herself.
Kenyon held out his hand. “Give me your keys and I’ll get it.”
“It’s upstairs.”
He motioned with his head. “Let’s go, Doc.”
Mia felt the heat from Kenyon’s gaze on her back as she walked out of the kitchen. Although the staircase was wide enough to walk two abreast, he decided to follow several steps behind and was no doubt staring at her rear end.
“There should be a key fob under the driver’s seat. The set I’m going to give you has a special key that will open the compartment.”
Kenyon smiled, staring intently at the way the fabric hugged Mia’s hips and concluding she wasn’t as skinny as she was slender. There was no way anyone would ever mistake her for a boy because her hips were much too curvy.
“Why didn’t you carry your bag onboard?”
“I would have if I’d taken a private jet. A bag filled with scalpels, syringes and narcotics would definitely raise a red flag. What I didn’t want to do was spend my New Year’s locked up or having my medical supplies confiscated.” She peered over her shoulder once they reached the second floor. “Do you ever travel with your firearm?”
“Not as a sheriff. But I did when I was federal flight deck officer.”
Mia stopped suddenly and Kenyon bumped into her. She would’ve fallen if not for his quick reflexes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stopped like that.” The apology was breathless, as if she’d run a long, grueling race. It was hard for her to breathe when Kenyon’s arms were around her.
Kenyon wanted to tell Mia he wasn’t sorry, because it gave him an excuse to hold her, the curves of her body fitting perfectly against his as if they were interlocking puzzle pieces. “Are you all right?”
No, I’m not all right, Mia thought. Her heart was pounding a runaway rhythm, her legs were shaking slightly and her stomach muscles were tightening with each breath. She took indescribable delight in the press of his hard body against hers and the scent of his masculine cologne wafting in her nostrils.
“I’m okay.”
Kenyon released his hold when it was the last thing he wanted to do. “Are you certain?”
If she’d been her mother, Tish Eaton would’ve feigned feeling faint if only to remain in Kenyon’s arms a bit longer. Nodding and smiling, Mia said, “Quite certain. I was a little shocked, because I hadn’t realized you are a pilot.”
“I was a pilot,” he said, correcting her.
“Just because you’re a sheriff that doesn’t mean you don’t know how to fly.”
“I’m a licensed pilot who no longer flies for a living.”
“I see.”
Reaching for her hand, Kenyon continued up the staircase. “Ask me, Mia.”
She gave him a sidelong glance. “Ask you what?”
“Why I gave it up to police a town with less than six hundred people.”
“Why did you?”
A beat passed. “I missed my home and my family.”
“But didn’t you get time off?”
“Not enough. Now I work around the clock for four straight days, then I’m off for three. I can sleep in my own bed, make repairs to