Loch and Key by Shelli Stevens

painkiller. But that would mean getting up. He lay there for a while, memories of yesterday seeping into his consciousness and bringing horror and humiliation.
    Holy shit. He’d gotten drunk. In front of Kenzie. In front of his sailors. So drunk that they’d had to nearly carry him out of the fairgrounds.
    More memories came, this time of him shoveling nachos and burritos down his throat. Taco Bell. He hadn’t been there since he was a teenager and his cousin had gotten him high. Had he…had he actually begged his sailors to take him there?
    Groaning, Brett pulled the pillow over his head to help block out the morning light. Block out the memories. The pounding in his head didn’t stop, though. It took a few seconds to realize that the pounding was coming from his front door.
    Probably one of his men coming to check on his ass.
    Swinging his legs out of bed, he stumbled to the front door—ready to tell whomever it was to get lost. He unlocked the door and bolt and then swung it open. With the sunlight glaring behind the person, it took a minute to figure out who it was, but soon a very definite female silhouette took form.
    “Can I come in?”
    Kenzie. For once, he had absolutely no desire to see her.
    “No.”
    He tried to shut the door and she grabbed it, pushing it back open. She was stronger than she looked, he mused, or he was too weak and hungover.
    “What are you doing here?” It was a near-snarl.
    “You told me not to forget about you, remember?” She gave him a cheerful smile and closed the door behind them.
    “What the hell are you talking about?”
    “Yesterday…” Her words trailed off and her gaze slid over him, lingering on his bare chest. She swallowed hard.
    Never one to be self-conscious, he wasn’t about to start now. Besides, he had on boxers and that was practically overdressed for the hell his body was going through.
    “It doesn’t…never mind.” She shook her head and blinked, adjusting the paper bag in her hand. “Have you taken anything for your head?”
    “No.”
    “Go lie your arse back down. I’ll bring you something.” And she disappeared into his house as if she’d been there a hundred times.
    Which, how the hell did she even figure out where he lived in the first place?
    He wanted to argue, but his damn head pounded with every breath he drew in. This was why he didn’t drink whisky. He should’ve known better. Should’ve read more into that twinkle in Kenzie’s eye when she’d made the offer to go sample some.
    He crawled back into bed, beyond the point of worrying about pride, and pulled the blanket over his head. Several minutes passed before he heard her soft footsteps in his bedroom.
    “I’ve brought water and painkillers. Take them before you fall back asleep.”
    As if he could sleep through the pounding. He sat up carefully and accepted the glass of water and three pills. He tossed the pills into his mouth, took a swig of water and then swallowed.
    “Drink the whole glass.”
    Glaring at her over the rim, he obliged. More out of thirst than from her request.
    He turned his head to check the time on his bedside clock. Almost nine in the morning. Jesus. He never slept this late.
    “Lie back down,” she said softly. “I’ll wake you when breakfast is ready. Hopefully the meds will have kicked in by then.”
    She turned to leave and he caught her wrist, stopping her retreat.
    “Why are you here, Kenzie?”
    Her lashes fluttered down and she gave a small shake of her head. “Guilt. Plain and simple. Hoping I can get you to forgive me.”
    He grunted. “Not only did my men have to see their chief drunk out of his mind, but I also begged them to go to Taco Bell. How the hell do I come back from that kind of low?”
    She winced. “Ouch, I really owe you one. I’ll start by fixing you some hangover food.”
    He smoothed his thumb over the silky underside of her wrist. Despite the pain in his head, he allowed himself a moment to really look her over.
    She