Chapter fourteen
Friends with Benefits
This being North Hampton, the only appropriate response to a disaster was through prodigious fund-raising. "Fishing for a Cause," as it was nicknamed, brought the community out in force. The party was held on the grounds in front of city hall, with Todd Hutchinson shaking hands and promising vigorous lobbying for federal and state funding to get the waters clean again. Yet there was still no official explanation as to what the mysterious oceanic substance was made of. None of the scientists could figure it out.
The Gardiners were the primary sponsors of the event. Bran was supposed to make an opening speech, but his flight was delayed, so Killian had played host instead.
"Thank you all for coming here today," he said, waving to the assembled crowd. The younger Gardiner looked handsome and earnest under the spotlights. He cleared his throat. "North Hampton is a very special place, and we want to keep it that way. It means a lot to my family. I know we haven't been back here in a long time, but even if I've been here only briefly, I consider this place my home." He was very articulate and moving as he continued to speak about his family's close historical connection to the area and how much they were putting into the rehabilitation of the coastal waters and helping those whose livelihoods depended on it.
Freya attended the event with her mother and sister. A disaster of this magnitude forced Ingrid out of her antisocial stance, and Joanna had pledged to help in any way she could. Freya knew her mother was itching to use her talents to restore the delicate ecological balance in the area, but the restriction kept her from doing so. She was impressed with Killian's words, although she tried not to be. "What a pompous idiot," she whispered to her sister.
Ingrid looked taken aback at her vehemence. "Jeez . . . I thought he gave a nice speech. What do you have against the guy? Every time his name comes up you look like this." She made a sour face, imitating Freya's grimace.
"Nothing," Freya muttered. "Forget I said anything." She didn't really want to talk about Killian. Instead she took a lap around the room and chatted with the mayor, who looked a bit worse for wear, with dark circles under his eyes. "This thing keeping you up nights?" she asked him.
"Yeah. I'm having a hard time sleeping for some reason. My doctor prescribed some sleeping pills, but they don't kick in."
Freya regarded him keenly. She could see the traces of the spell, recognized it as a working of Ingrid's. It was an infidelity charm, which kept his sexual history obscured, as each sister's magic canceled out the other's. Freya hoped his wife knew what she was doing. Those fidelity knots of her sister's were no joke.
Freya continued to flit about the party, concerned with avoiding Killian at all costs. She really did not have anything to say to him, and she didn't want to make their relationship any more awkward than it had to be. She hadn't bumped into him since that day at the bar when the news broke out about the explosion. So when she found him standing next to her in the buffet line, she smiled politely, picked up a fruit skewer, and put it on her plate. Unfortunately, Killian had other plans. It turned out he had a lot to say to her this time. "I saw you," he whispered in her ear. He was so close his breath made the hair on her skin prickle a little. "The other night. In front of the fireplace."
So she was right. He had seen her. Freya felt her cheeks get hot.
"You were amazing."
"Stop it," Freya hissed. "Stop it."
"I know you were thinking of me. I could feel it. That's what brought me downstairs," he said. "Tell me, were you thinking of me when you - "
"Killian. Please. Not here."
"Where, then?" he asked quickly.
"Nowhere." She shook her head and looked around to make sure no one had noticed the two of them together, talking like this. Ingrid was looking mournfully across the room at that handsome detective, Matt Noble, the only one who had questioned Freya's ability to work at the North Inn bar, citing her high school graduation not too long ago (the trick on her driver's license had not worked on him for some reason). He was talking to one of the young librarians who worked with Ingrid, an arm around her shoulders. Meanwhile Joanna was eating profiteroles at a nearby table, her face a mask of bliss. "I told you, like I told you that night. I can't see you again," Freya whispered.
"But you want to," Killian insisted.
"No. No, I don't."
Yes, they had made love the night of her engagement party . . . no, they had f**ked. The minute he had locked the door behind him she had practically thrown herself at him, had ripped his clothes off to be able to touch his body. It had taken every ounce of her willpower not to scream the moment his hand slipped between her legs. When he'd pinned her against the sink and had his way, she was open and hungry and afterward . . . afterward . . . she had looked into his beautiful face and wanted to cry. In response, he had kissed her again, and they had made love for the second time, slowly this time, savoring every moment, which made it even hotter than the first. . . .
But that was enough. After that she had regained her senses. She had told him under no circumstances could they ever do that again, as she had made a terrible mistake. She had fled the party and had not looked back, not once.
Freya was aware she wasn't perfect, and she never claimed to be. But she would never do anything to hurt someone she loved so dearly. It was a slip, an accident, bridal jitters, her own commitment issues. After all, it had been a very long time since she'd had a husband . . . but now she was set and determined. She loved Bran and one moment (or two, really, if one was counting) of weakness with Killian did not change that. It did not change anything.
"Killian, I should have called you to talk about it. I'm sorry I didn't. I meant what I said to you that night, I don't know what I was doing, I was out of my mind, it was a horrid lapse of judgment."
He placed a strawberry on her plate, ripe and luscious. "Call it what you want . . . but you know where to find me." He slipped a key into her pocket. "This will get you into the Dragon, it's docked on the far side of Gardiners Island. Don't worry, Bran never goes there. I'll be waiting for you every night this week. If you don't come see me by Sunday night, I won't bother you anymore."
Before she could reply he stepped away suddenly and disappeared into the crowd.