Freak of Nature - By Julia Crane Page 0,13

Lucas she glanced at Quess.

Kaitlyn stared blankly at the girl, but Quess just smiled innocently back. Kaitlyn had a feeling Quess knew all along. She really was good at keeping secrets.

She should have told her that Lucas was coming for dinner. Not that it would have made a difference. She was interested in seeing him outside of the clinical environment.

Taking a deep breath, Kaitlyn composed herself. She could do this. It was just dinner after all, and Lucas had no idea of her hidden desire to rip his clothes off and trail her lips up the length of his body. She felt heat rush to her face, but her system quickly regulated it.

He looked even more attractive than usual tonight. The light blue button-up matched his eyes, making them stand out even more, and it was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a white t-shirt underneath. His khaki pants hung loosely at his hips and stretched over his muscular thighs. Kaitlyn absently wondered when he had time to work out. He seemed to always be at the lab.

Lucas shifted from one foot to the other. A sign that he was uncomfortable. He seemed just as shocked to see her as she was to see him. He shoved his hands in his pockets and then pulled them out as if he was unsure what to do with his hands.

His gaze settled on her as he said, “Kaitlyn, it’s nice to see you here. I didn’t know you visited the Adams’s home.”

His rich, deep voice sent a strange feeling down her spine. It was almost as if a chill were in the air even though the fireplace ensured the room was a warm seventy-eight degrees, according to Kaitlyn’s internal thermometer.

The sensations Lucas caused within her were confusing, and she was unable to process the meaning. When she scanned her mind, it came up blank. Yet again proof that computers don’t know everything, she thought, slightly annoyed.

“This is the first time I have been,” Kaitlyn said. “Quess invited me for dinner.”

At least her mind and mouth were cooperating; that wasn’t always the case in the presence of Lucas. Her hands were clammy with sweat, and her stomach felt funny. She wondered if that was what Quess meant by butterflies dancing in her stomach.

“Nanny, it smells like dinner is ready,” Quess interjected, saving Kaitlyn from the awkwardness.

Mrs. Adams sniffed the air, and then leveled her gaze on her granddaughter. “Why, yes, I do believe you’re right, dear. Let’s all go to the kitchen.”

Kaitlyn rose swiftly, turning on her heel and heading in the direction of the kitchen with the rest of them close behind. The smell of roast beef, fresh bread and potatoes triggered something in Kaitlyn, but it was like a scratch she couldn’t itch. The feeling caused a tingling in her memory; so close, but not close enough. To say it was annoying would be an understatement. This sometimes happened with certain scents. She wasn’t sure what it meant and wished she could ask Lucas or Professor Adams, but that would be giving away too much.

The kitchen was rustic and well-used. There was very little wall space that wasn’t covered in pale wood cabinets, and the thin area of space above was hung with old cast iron skillets and copper pots. It was five degrees warmer in the space than the rest of the house.

“Have a seat anywhere,” Mrs. Adams declared, waving her hands towards the large oval dining room table that sat in an alcove next to the kitchen. The table was covered with bright yellow placemats, and floral napkins.

Hesitating, Kaitlyn waited until the others were seated so she wouldn’t take the wrong chair. Mr. Adams sat at the head of the table, as she expected, Lucas sat to the right of him, and Quess sat at the other end next to what would presumably be her grandmother’s seat.

Kaitlyn made her way around the table and sat across from Quess, unfolding her napkin and placing it in her lap. Like she saw Quess do. There was one seat separating her from Lucas.

He tugged at his t-shirt collar as if it were choking him. His cheeks were flushed. She wondered if it was from the heat of the fireplace.

What is he thinking? Kaitlyn wondered. What was it that made him so uncomfortable? Quess had said he was anti-social. Maybe he was uncomfortable eating around others, but that seemed odd even to her.

Lucas cleared his throat. “Professor Adams, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,