Chapter 7: Off Limits

Killian felt the cold wind beating against his skin as he drove closer to the harbor. He hadn't expected the evening to turn out like this, dinner with Henry and his mother was never on the agenda. He didn't even know why he had accepted the offer from the boy. Perhaps it was his admission that his poem had been about him. This pirate who was lonely, with a broken heart, living in solitude. How did an eleven-year-old child learn all of that from him?

Perhaps the boy was paying more attention than he gave him credit for during his Q&A sessions they had while playing with Smee.

Killian had been touched that he thought enough of him to even write a sentence about him, but a full poem, what had he done to deserve the lad's devotion?

Was Henry's mother the princess? He banished the thoughts from his mind. Even if the kid wrote his tale about his mother and this pirate that was based on himself, Emma had a boyfriend. She was off limits, end of story.

He parked his bike in front of the restaurant, pulling his helmet from his head and staring at the door. He should go home. This was a bad idea.

It's just pizza. Pizza with a kid and a woman who was unavailable. Harmless.

He checked in at the front, asked for a seat on the patio and was escorted to a table near the water. Killian closed his eyes, taking in the sounds of the seagulls, the smell of the nearby ocean, and felt himself relax.

"How did you know this was my mom's favorite table?"

Killian laughed. "Just lucky I guess."

He stood as Emma approached the table, pulling out the seat for the woman.

For no other reason except that he was a gentleman.

"Thank you." She said, with a dip of her head, her lips tilting upward.

"So, what do you put on your pizza, and please don't say pineapple." Killian groaned, winking at the boy who sat down beside him.

"Eww, who puts pineapple on their pizza?" Henry groaned. "Just pepperoni, please."

"If that's what you want, then pepperoni is what you shall get. We are after all celebrating your success tonight. You were a star up there, lad."

"Did ya hear that mom, I was a star."

"Yes, kiddo, you really were."

"Did Killian tell you that he bought a boat?"

Killian's eyes met Emma's, "He did not." She stated as her eyebrow's rose.

"Aye. Nothing fancy, just something I can take out on the water on my free time."

"He named it the Jolly Roger, like Captain Hook, mom." He said excitedly and Killian couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. He loved the boy's enthusiasm.

"That's very exciting." Emma said slowly. "Sailing appears to be in your blood."

"Aye, It's the one place that brings me comfort and calm."

Emma nodded. "There is something about the sound of the water, the way it crashes on the shore. The birds in the distance."

"Do you sail?"

"Oh no, never. I mean, Neal was never interested, and Graham gets seasick."

"And what about you?" He asked her.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you told me how Neal and Graham feel about sailing, but what about you, love?"

"Only the one time…" She looked out at the water. "But I do love the water."

"I want to learn how to sail." Henry announced and Killian reached out without thinking to run his hand through the boy's hair.

"Perhaps your mother will allow me to teach you one day." He watched the woman, a soft smile on her lips as she kept looking out at the water. Her hair was blowing lightly with the soft breeze coming off the bay. She had a beauty about her that he couldn't describe, and he found that he couldn't stop staring at her. Every so often she would look up, catch him glancing in her direction, and smile softly, her gaze lingering for a moment before she looked away.

Around his second piece of pizza, he realized that they seemed to be playing a game, taking turns staring when the other wasn't looking. He thought perhaps he was imagining it, but there was no mistaking it when her tongue darted out, brushing across her lips while she stared longingly at his own mouth.

He needed to put a stop to this before things got complicated. Women always came with complications.

Henry watched his mother and Killian make small talk at the table, his mother's laughter coming more naturally than he was used to seeing from her. He sat back and let them talk, happy to see them interacting without his prompting.

He knew it would only be a matter of time before they realized they were a perfect match. Killian needed someone like his mother, someone who wouldn't let him hide away from his life. And his mother needed Killian to show her how to live her life outside of her responsibilities. He just needed them to realize it.

As they rode up to the fourth floor on the elevator, he didn't want the night to end. They were so close he could tell, so close to letting down their guard in front of each other. Showing the real people they were inside, without all the fake walls they both had built around themselves.

As they paused in front of their apartment, Henry paused at the door. "Do you know anything about gas stoves?"

"Aye lad, is there a reason you ask?"

Emma pushed the door open. "Henry, it's fine, Graham can fix it on Tuesday when he comes over."

"Is your stove broken?"

"I can't get the pilot to light. I'm not sure what's wrong with it." His mother responded nervously.

"I'd be happy to take a look, I'd hate for you…for the lad to be without a stove until Tuesday."

"Are you sure?"

"What are neighbors for?" He grinned.

"Ok." She pushed open the door and Henry ran inside. "I'm tired, I'm going to go to bed. Night." He ran off to his bedroom, ignoring his mother's pleas behind him.

"Henry, what are you doing outside of the castle?"

"I could say the same about you, Mother."

"We don't have time for this." Captain Jones complained.

"Who is The Swan Thief?" Henry shouted.

"Henry…"

"Look, this feels like a personal matter, perhaps I should give you both a moment alone."

"Don't move." Emma warned. "We don't have time for this Henry." She turned on her son.

"Tell me the truth, is he my father?"

The Captain leaned against the wall, sighing as he pressed his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had no time for family drama. He had a mark to catch.

"Henry, he wasn't a good man."

"So, you lied to me and told me he died?" The boy cried.

"He left us. Abandoned us. I did what I thought I had to do to protect you." She reached up, brushing the tears from her face.

"Why is he back?"

Emma looked at the Captain. "He's after a diamond, a trinket of the Queen's." The man answered.

"He's the one you were looking for in the castle last night, the one you burst into my room to find. Was he there?"

"Aye."

"So where is he now?"

"We're about to go track him now. You need to go back to the castle. Let me handle this."

"You both need to go back to the castle. I was hired to do this, it's my duty to bring him in." The Captain complained.

"You aren't going without me." The Princess demanded.

"Or me." Henry stood defiantly.

The Captain groaned. "Then lead the way, M'lady."

Emma watched from the table as Killian bent over the stove, admiring the view she was getting of his ass. He stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. "I think that did it." She stood up walking over to the stove to see the blue flame light up.

"You fixed it." She exclaimed.

"Good as new." He sat the lighter down on the counter beside her and Emma got lost in the way his eyes caught hers. His fingers only inches from her own.

"Thank you…" She stammered. "For um, you know, coming to Henry's fair tonight." He stepped toward her almost in a trance. "For buying the pizza tonight and fixing my stove." She licked her lips as she felt his fingers graze against hers on the counter. Her body was moving on its own accord, needing to be closer to him.

"I uh…" His voice was dark, hesitant. "I should go." They were so close, her fingers danced along his wrist, looking up into his eyes.

He blinked; his eyes focused on her lips. "Ok." She breathed out, closing the distance between them, her lips brushing against his. Before she could think or change her mind, her hands were in his hair, wanting him closer and needing something she couldn't quite understand. She wasn't thinking, she was reacting, she couldn't even remember the moment she knew she was going to kiss him but now that she was, it felt like she had wanted to since the moment she had laid eyes on him.

She couldn't breathe, it was as if only he had the air that she needed to survive and without his mouth she would surely perish. His hands tangled in her hair, before brushing down her back as he pulled her into his chest. He released her almost as quickly as he had taken her into his arms, her body immediately missing his warmth.

Her chest was heaving as she tried to bring the air back into her lungs. "That was…"

"A one-time thing." He spoke softly. "My apologies, but that can't happen again. You have a boyfriend." Emma blushed, realizing she hadn't thought of Graham in hours. "And I…"

"Have Belle. You're right. I shouldn't have…"

"No harm no foul, love. Think nothing of it." He paused, looking at her one more time. "I very much enjoyed the evening. Let me know if you have any more trouble with the stove."

And with that, he walked away from her and out of the apartment, the door closing behind him. Emma closed her eyes and leaned over the counter, feeling the cold granite on her cheek as she groaned. "Really good job Emma." She stood up, holding her hand to her temple. "You son meets someone he idolizes, and you go and kiss him."

Emma realized as she stood admonishing herself in the middle of her kitchen that she was more concerned that she kissed someone her son cared about than the fact she had kissed a man who wasn't her boyfriend.

It was a little fact that continued to grow bigger as the weeks passed. It was in the way she started noticing things when she was with Graham. The fact that she didn't get butterflies when he walked in the room the same way she did when she ran into Killian. It was in the longing glances she caught herself in when Killian would pass her in the hall.

And when Ruby stopped her in the hall to ask if she had forgotten to do laundry on Monday, the way she had always done it and Emma just laughed it off until she got to the laundry room, Killian standing at one of the machines with extra quarters for her, that she stopped to question when she had changed to Tuesdays, the same day Killian Jones did his laundry.

She convinced herself she wasn't seeking him out. He was a friend. Killian was someone she enjoyed wasting time with while waiting for her clothes to dry. That was all. There was nothing wrong with chatting up a friend, telling them about your day, or sharing a beer in the basement over a load of dirty towels. She was friends with Killian just like she was with Will.

Sure, she had kissed Killian, but it was only one time, and he had gotten over it and so had she.

Ok so she had mostly gotten over it. There was the small matter of the fact that she was still having dreams about it. And not the cute, G rated kind either. She'd never actually seen a porno before, but she was pretty sure the dreams she was having of her neighbor at night would classify.

"You're quiet today, love." She looked up suddenly, realizing she had been lost in thought, and laughed.

"Sorry, didn't sleep well last night."

"Nightmares?" He questioned, with a sincere look of concern on his face.

"Oh, definitely not." She snorted and then covered her mouth.

A smirk grew on his face, and she was sure it brought a blush to her cheeks. "Are you having dirty dreams, Swan."

She slapped at his shoulder, "Stop."

"You are! My, my, Swan, very unexpected from you."

"Why is that unexpected, I'm a woman, I have needs."

His eyes seemed to darken as he stared down at her, his tongue sliding across his lip. As if he realized he was staring, he blinked and reached for a towel on the table between them. Silence filling the room.

"So uh, how's Belle, haven't seen her in a few days." Smooth Emma. Great transition to fill the awkward sexual tension, ask about his girlfriend. Brilliant.

"She's good. Library keeps her busier than you would imagine. How is Graham?"

Well, this isn't awkward at all, she thought.

"Good, yeah he's good. Working a lot." She reached for a towel the same time as he did, their hands colliding which caused her to jump at the contact.

Why did he always make her heart race so fast? What was it about him that was so exciting and appealing… and dangerous?

As she lifted the towel, something fell to the ground and Killian bent over to pick it up. When he stood she felt her mouth go dry. Hooked around his finger was her black lace panties. "I don't believe these will fit me." His thumb seemed to caress the lace as his eyes trailed down her body making Emma swallow harder than she meant to, choking on her own saliva.

She reached out and grabbed the item from his hand. "I'm not sure you could pull off a thong." She teased trying to bring any sort of normalcy back to the conversation, a joke, a laugh, oh God anything besides this deafening sound in her ears screaming for her to run from the room before she did something stupid, like run her hands through that thicket of black hair he was always displaying with a half-buttoned shirt.

Why did he even bother with putting on a shirt if he was only going to close half of it? It was obscene, and sexy, and God she needed to stop staring at his chest.

She put her towel and panties in her basket and looked around nervously, trying to ignore the way he was staring into her. "I just remembered I need to get Henry ready for his weekend with his dad."

"Ah yes, the prodigal ex returns."

Emma chuckled. "Yeah, so I need to make sure he's packed or else he's going to end up with nothing to wear but the clothes on his back for 3 days."

"An extended visit, perhaps that will be just what the lad needs."

"I guess." She frowned.

"It can't be easy handing him over to someone else and hoping they won't disappoint the boy."

"That's the thing. I know he'll disappoint him."

"Sorry, love."

She hated that one minute he was a sex God, giving her looks that made her want to drop her panties and mount him right there on the washing machine, and the next he had that sincere look of a man who actually cared about her and Henry. It was a bit overwhelming. And there was no way in which it was possible that the man actually cared about her.

Emma turned to leave. "See ya around, Jones."

"I'll be counting the seconds, Swan."

How will the princess claim the belonging she desperately craves if she cannot trust the words uttered in the darkness of her mind?

The moment Emma was out of sight he let out a breath he was holding. Bugger. The woman was going to be the death of him.

He could handle wanting a woman, desiring someone so badly that he needed to escape to solitude to take himself in hand, releasing the tension of not being able to have the creature he desired. But caring about the woman and her boy had become something he wasn't prepared for.

Perhaps spending so much time with the two of them was unwise. Lately he seemed to run into Emma everywhere. Impromptu discussions in the hall, a beer while doing laundry in the basement, finding her at the diner near the harbor after getting off his shift.

Ok the last one he had to admit was less of an accident and more deliberate on his part. The boy might have mentioned in passing that his mother enjoyed a specific diner down by the harbor and Killian might have stopped by at different times in the day before he found the exact moment she would visit. After that they seemed to bump into each other more often, opting to share lunch at the same table instead of talking across the room.

It was all innocent. Emma was his friend. Even if friendship wasn't exactly a luxury he had been afforded recently. He enjoyed his time with Emma. Even more when he had Henry along. The boy had invited him to dinner at his place a couple of times and he would join Will and the two of them over a plate of spaghetti or a takeout pizza.

And he had been seeing less of Belle, though he couldn't blame the library for that. Lately when they would meet, he found himself uninterested in their usual roll in the hay after dinner. It all seemed so casual. Belle was getting irritated with him, if it was any indication from the way she told him to refrain from coming over if he wasn't going to listen to a word she said the last time he was at her place. He knew he was going to have to deal with what was going on between him and Belle. Their expiration date had come and gone, and Killian needed to stop ignoring it but the damn feeling that he was going to hurt her kept nagging at him. Reminding him why he didn't form connections with women.

But Emma was on a whole different level of confusing for him. He understood his stressful thoughts about Belle. But Emma?

Ever since their kiss a few weeks ago, it has been all he thought about. He didn't know where he got the strength to walk away that evening, everything in him was screaming to take the woman. But she had a boyfriend and that made her off limits.

He had learned his lesson with Milah. It nearly destroyed his life. The day he found out she was married, not separated from an ex who was demanding, like she had told him, everything had fallen apart. He was in love with this woman, he didn't want to walk away from the life they had built together, even if half of it was based on a lie.

He tried to break it off, tried not to give in when she showed up his door, tears in her eyes, scared that her husband had been drinking again, had hit her, and was begging him to take her to bed. God he had tried. He would take her in, clean her wounds, make love to her, and promise her forever. But she always went back to him.

The last time he hit her, Killian had put up with enough and went after the man. Of course, Milah lied to the police, called him a jealous lover who was hell bent on destroying her marriage. He ended up in 30 days lock up with a restraining order and a discharge from the Navy for conduct unbecoming of an officer. His life was ruined.

When he showed up on Liam's doorstep, drunk and alone and promising never to be with another woman again, he had been serious. He could never have his heart broken that way again and survive.

But now he was here in Boston, at Skyline Apartments, with a woman who stared at him like she was the answer to every prayer he had uttered in his dreams. And a boy who clung to him like what he said actually mattered. He wanted to run, to get as far away as he could from the feelings bubbling to the surface.

How will the Pirate ever find the affection he desires, if he lingers in the solitude he has created?