asked, twisting the towel again.
He shrugged and set the fork on the plate. “Not especially.” As Kaylee twisted the towel again, Bastian suddenly lunged and caught her wrist, pulling her about to tickle her ribs. She dropped the towel and tried to break free but couldn’t.
“Does that tickle?” he asked, running his fingers over her sides.
“Not especially,” she replied between giggles and gasps. She thrashed back and forth , kicking. At one point, she lost her balance, and Bastian caught her. Still, she continued to struggle, but he supported her so she wouldn’t fall. Her eyes were closed, and she couldn’t stop laughing.
“You can say what you want, Kaylee, but your body is telling me something different. Is there a place you aren’t ticklish?” Bastian was also laughing so hard he almost couldn’t breathe. He stopped running his fingers over her stomach, giving her time to catch her breath. Her back was taut, and he wanted to run his fingers over the whole of her y and explore every part.
“No, there isn’t.” Kaylee’s eyelids fluttered open, and she smiled.
“I’ll keep that in mind. I guess I should check the food before we have to eat charred chicken.” Bastian helped Kaylee regain her balance and squeezed her shoulder.
“That was a fowl thing to say,” Kaylee retor ted, brushing the hair from her face.
“I know. Looks like dinner’s about done . ” Bastian picked up the fork , prodded the meat , and checked the veg gies . The scent of melted butter and sautéed onions filled the air. Picking up one of the plates he’d set out, he placed one chicken breast and a serving of vegetables on it and handed it to Kaylee.
“Your dinner, m a’am.”
“Not funny.” Kaylee took the plate, grabbed a fork, and sat at the table beside two glasses of red wine. Bastian had found it stowed in the back of the refrigerator.
“I thought it was.” Bastian loaded his own plate before sitting next to Kaylee and enjoying a dinner that wasn’t too shabby.
“Why didn’t you look at me when you were at the soup kitchen?” Kaylee asked, dabbing her mouth with her napkin.
“It’s complicated, Kaylee.” Bastian cut his chicken breast into bite-sized portions, purposely averting his gaze.
“Tell me anyway.”
“You are tenacious, aren’t you?” He unfolded his napkin and spread it over his lap.
Kaylee set her fork on her plate and stared at him. “A bulldog has nothing on me in that department. Y ou were saying?”
“I didn’t want to look at anyone, even the reflection in the mirror. It was bad enough having to be there for a meal, let alone seeing the charity in your eyes.” Bastian cut the bite-sized portions into even smaller pieces and quickly shoved a bite into hi s mouth.
“That’s not what you would have seen if you'd given me a chance.” She touched his hand.
Bastian stiffened. “Damn it, Kaylee. I didn’t want to give myself a chance. Why in hell would I let you? When you’re down and miserable and hate yourself, you expect everyone around you to look at you the same way. I expected to find charity in your eyes, and regardless of how you would’ve looked at me, I would have found it.” He closed his eyes and thought of the gun, his father’s gun , with its sleek silver barrel, the cold weight heavy in his palm.
“Look at me.” Kaylee brought her hand to his chin and lifted it so his face was level with hers. Still, Bastian gazed downward. “Damn it, I said look at me.”
“Why?” Bastian's gaze travelled from the floor to Kaylee’s face.
“I want to know what you see now.” Kaylee tried to swallow the panic racing in her chest.
“Kaylee—”
”Tell me, Bastian. What do you see.” Her fingers kept him from looking away.
“I see somebody who doesn’t have a clue what she’s getting herself into. Damn it, Kaylee, I don’t know why we’re
He shrugged and set the fork on the plate. “Not especially.” As Kaylee twisted the towel again, Bastian suddenly lunged and caught her wrist, pulling her about to tickle her ribs. She dropped the towel and tried to break free but couldn’t.
“Does that tickle?” he asked, running his fingers over her sides.
“Not especially,” she replied between giggles and gasps. She thrashed back and forth , kicking. At one point, she lost her balance, and Bastian caught her. Still, she continued to struggle, but he supported her so she wouldn’t fall. Her eyes were closed, and she couldn’t stop laughing.
“You can say what you want, Kaylee, but your body is telling me something different. Is there a place you aren’t ticklish?” Bastian was also laughing so hard he almost couldn’t breathe. He stopped running his fingers over her stomach, giving her time to catch her breath. Her back was taut, and he wanted to run his fingers over the whole of her y and explore every part.
“No, there isn’t.” Kaylee’s eyelids fluttered open, and she smiled.
“I’ll keep that in mind. I guess I should check the food before we have to eat charred chicken.” Bastian helped Kaylee regain her balance and squeezed her shoulder.
“That was a fowl thing to say,” Kaylee retor ted, brushing the hair from her face.
“I know. Looks like dinner’s about done . ” Bastian picked up the fork , prodded the meat , and checked the veg gies . The scent of melted butter and sautéed onions filled the air. Picking up one of the plates he’d set out, he placed one chicken breast and a serving of vegetables on it and handed it to Kaylee.
“Your dinner, m a’am.”
“Not funny.” Kaylee took the plate, grabbed a fork, and sat at the table beside two glasses of red wine. Bastian had found it stowed in the back of the refrigerator.
“I thought it was.” Bastian loaded his own plate before sitting next to Kaylee and enjoying a dinner that wasn’t too shabby.
“Why didn’t you look at me when you were at the soup kitchen?” Kaylee asked, dabbing her mouth with her napkin.
“It’s complicated, Kaylee.” Bastian cut his chicken breast into bite-sized portions, purposely averting his gaze.
“Tell me anyway.”
“You are tenacious, aren’t you?” He unfolded his napkin and spread it over his lap.
Kaylee set her fork on her plate and stared at him. “A bulldog has nothing on me in that department. Y ou were saying?”
“I didn’t want to look at anyone, even the reflection in the mirror. It was bad enough having to be there for a meal, let alone seeing the charity in your eyes.” Bastian cut the bite-sized portions into even smaller pieces and quickly shoved a bite into hi s mouth.
“That’s not what you would have seen if you'd given me a chance.” She touched his hand.
Bastian stiffened. “Damn it, Kaylee. I didn’t want to give myself a chance. Why in hell would I let you? When you’re down and miserable and hate yourself, you expect everyone around you to look at you the same way. I expected to find charity in your eyes, and regardless of how you would’ve looked at me, I would have found it.” He closed his eyes and thought of the gun, his father’s gun , with its sleek silver barrel, the cold weight heavy in his palm.
“Look at me.” Kaylee brought her hand to his chin and lifted it so his face was level with hers. Still, Bastian gazed downward. “Damn it, I said look at me.”
“Why?” Bastian's gaze travelled from the floor to Kaylee’s face.
“I want to know what you see now.” Kaylee tried to swallow the panic racing in her chest.
“Kaylee—”
”Tell me, Bastian. What do you see.” Her fingers kept him from looking away.
“I see somebody who doesn’t have a clue what she’s getting herself into. Damn it, Kaylee, I don’t know why we’re
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