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Kaitlin hesitated, pride warring with practicality. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“It’s on my way.” He nodded toward the sheriff’s department cruiser parked in the municipal lot. “Let’s go.”
The interior of the vehicle smelled of coffee and sea salt, a combination Kaitlin had come to associate with Matt himself. She settled into the passenger seat, her bag clutched protectively on her lap as if it might shield her from further uncomfortable exchanges.
Matt navigated the narrow island roads in silence until Kaitlin could no longer bear it.
“What exactly is your problem with me?” she demanded as they turned onto the lane leading to her cottage. “One minute we’re working together, the next you’re treating me like I’m suspect number one again.”
Matt’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “My problem is that I don’t know what game you’re playing. First you’re the dedicated researcher, then you’re cozied up to an FBI agent who’s clearly taking a personal interest in you.” He pulled into her driveway and killed the engine with unnecessary force. “Makes me wonder what else you’re not being straight about.”
“That’s rich,” Kaitlin retorted, anger overriding caution. “You’ve been an ass since we met, treated me like an outsider, acted like I have some nefarious purpose…”
“An ass?” Matt turned to face her fully.
“An ass,” Kaitlin flung back, then grabbed her bag and pushed open the door. “Yes, acting like I’m the mastermind behind all this.”
She stormed up the path to her cottage, fumbling her keys with clumsy fingers. Behind her, she heard Matt’s door slam, followed by his footsteps on the gravel drive.
“I thought things had changed between us,” he called. “I thought we were starting to trust each other.” His voice lowered as he drew closer. “I was actually starting to believe you weren’t hiding something. After the fire…”
Kaitlin paused, key inserted in the lock but not yet turned. She faced him slowly. Her anger gave way to something more complicated as she registered the genuine hurt beneath his accusation.
“You were actually starting to like me,” she whispered. The realization struck her with unexpected force.
Matt stopped in his tracks, close enough now that she could see the surprise in his eyes at having his feelings so plainly named.
“Maybe I was.”
They stood frozen in the moment. The island wind tugged at her hair, carrying the scent of wood smoke and autumn leaves.
“Would you like some tea?” Kaitlin asked finally, because she was British after all.
Matt hesitated, then nodded once and followed her into the cottage’s warmth. The small kitchen opened directly off the entryway, its aged appliances and pine cabinets conveying rustic charm rather than modern convenience. Kaitlin busied herself with the kettle, grateful for the mundane task that allowed her to gather her thoughts.
“I’m not hiding anything sinister,” she said at last, her back still turned as she retrieved mugs from a cabinet. “But yes, there are things I haven’t told you. Personal things.”
“Like your relationship with Agent Cook?” Matt leaned against the door frame, arms crossed defensively across his chest.
“I have no relationship with Agent Cook,” Kaitlin replied firmly. She turned to face him. “We met on the street after my appointment this morning. I truly did have a migraine. He offered medication and a place to rest, which I accepted because it felt like someone was driving an ice pick through my skull.”
The kettle’s whistle interrupted whatever Matt was thinking of saying. Kaitlin turned to remove it from the heat. When she faced Matt again, his expression had transformed.
Matt strode away from the doorway then, closing the distance between them.
“Kaitlin,” he said softly, and the sound of her name in his voice sent an unexpected shiver along her spine.
Without conscious thought, Kaitlin reached out, her fingers brushing against the solid warmth of his arm. Matt’s gaze dropped to where her hand rested against his sleeve, then lifted to her face with an honest and exposed intensity that stole her breath. “I want to trust you, Kaitlin. I think I’ve wanted that from the beginning.”
Something shifted in the air. The tension gave way to a different, more elemental force. Kaitlin wasn’t sure who moved first, only that the space between them suddenly vanished and Matts’s mouth found hers with unexpected certainty.
The kiss deepened instantly, the taste of their hidden desires finally unleashed after weeks of suspicion and a cautious dance of attraction. Matt’s hands curved around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly onto the counter and her fingers tangled in his hair. The tea sat forgotten beside them.
Instinctively, Kaitlin’s legs wrapped around his hips and drew him closer as the kiss grew more demanding. Matt’s hands slid beneath her sweater, warm against her skin. His fingers traced pathways that made her gasp against his mouth. The edge of the counter pressed uncomfortably into her thighs, a distant discomfort overwhelmed by the heat building between them.
“Couch,” she managed between kisses, not certain her legs could carry her the short distance to the living room.
Matt lifted her again, her legs still wrapped around his waist, and navigated the cottage’s small layout with surprising grace. They collapsed onto the worn sofa in a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter that quickly surrendered to renewed urgency.
