Killian (Hope City #8) - Kris Michaels Page 0,29

filed. Property owners are the only ones that can request a variance. Armed with that information you can see if there is actually a land grab, if variances have been approved, what they are, and what areas they are approved for.” He closed the folder and glanced at her.

Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t believe there is a story here, do you.”

He sighed and shook his head. “I’m not convinced, no. I know you have a feeling there is, and I wish you luck with this endeavor, but there is so little to go on. City land being sold without me seeing the announcement is very thin ice to skate on.”

She took a drink of her wine and reached past him, opening the cover again. “You’re right, of course.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. Finally, she shook herself out of whatever thoughts she was chasing and stepped back and lifted her glass. “But I have the documents here and ten days with nothing to do, so why not?”

“Why not indeed.” Killian lifted his beer and clanked her wine glass.

Chapter 8

Eight hundred pounds of aches and pains pinned Bekki to the bed. The sunlight pouring in her window didn’t help her headache. Note to self, take the over-the-counter pain relievers instead of drinking half a bottle of wine.

The sound of her front door locks rattling popped her eyes open. She carefully turned and looked at the clock. Shit.

“Bekki, I’m here.” Hannah King’s announcement from the front of the house was the only thing that pulled her from the grasp of her bed. She pushed a hand through her hair and shuffled out of the bedroom. “You were still asleep? Are you okay?” Her mom rushed forward and put the back of her hand across Bekki’s forehead.

“Mom, I’m fine. I just didn’t feel like getting out of bed. I’m sore.” She glanced at the canvas shopping bags. “You didn’t have to go shopping for me.”

“You have nothing in the house and if you don’t feel like getting out of bed, you probably don’t feel like shopping, either. I was beside myself all night worrying that you didn’t eat.” Her mother grabbed a bag and headed into the kitchen.

“I ate.”

Hannah turned around and stared at her for a second. “What, the old cheese and wilted celery?”

“No, and I told you I’m not starving myself. I cleaned out my pantry and fridge. I don’t like buying excess, I shop when I need to for what I need.” Bekki padded over to her coffee maker, lifted the top, shoved in a pod, and pushed the button.

“And yet you have beer and wine.” Her mother opened her fridge and sighed. “And leftover Chinese food.”

“Yeah, Killian bought way too much.” Bekki yawned and scratched the uninjured side of her face.

“Killian was here?”

Shit. “Um, yeah, he stopped by last night. We talked about the report I’m working on.” Which wasn’t a total lie.

Her mother hummed as she moved the containers and arranged eggs, milk, butter, yogurt, and cheese on the shelves. “He’s here a lot, isn’t he?” The casual way the question was asked didn’t fool her for a second.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. We are not doing this. Killian is helping me with a story. That’s it.” So what if she liked the verbal sparring they engaged in? And his eyes. And his laugh, and his dog, and God… that body.

“Doing what, dear?” Her mother tried to hide a smile.

“That, right there. Mom, I’m serious, there is nothing happening.” Bekki grabbed her finished cup of coffee and shuffled to the table.

“It’s a shame mothers can’t tease their own children anymore.” Hannah laughed over Bekki’s snort. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Achy. I can talk at least.” She blew on her coffee and decided to let it cool down before she put the rim against her sore lip.

“So, what is this story you’re working on with Killian?” Her mother took out a frying pan and put it on the stove. “Over easy or an omelet?”

“Can I have poached on toast?” It was her favorite and the runny yolks would soften the toast.

“You bet. You handle the toast; I’ll get these poached. The story?” Hannah switched pans and glanced at her.

“I originally thought that some of the big construction companies were getting favors from City Hall. You know, inspectors in their pockets and people looking the other way.” She opened the new loaf of bread her mother brought with her and added two slices to