Chapter 5 – Fruit

His eyes dropped to the hand holding her coffee cup, no rings on her fingers or pale skin where one might have recently rested, then flickered back up to her face … he guessed she was early to mid-thirties, a few fine lines round the eyes, a look of tiredness in her face, but there was also strength and a fine beauty which did all sorts of things to his pulse.

He didn't miss the slight flash of annoyance in her eyes when he asked her why she walked the beach alone and was intrigued. Something there, but it was gone too soon for him to get a read on it. She was slightly defensive as she said "Who says I walk the beach alone?"

He backpedalled a little, went for humour with the bit about her invisible friend and grinned in appreciation as she rolled her eyes. He was dumbfounded when she told him she was a cop and didn't miss her surprise to his reaction. The fact that she was NYPD and in homicide to boot was awesome and he couldn't help his innate curiosity from proposing he pick her brains … then the similarity in their situation struck him. He was here to relax, not talk shop …

"Oh … sorry, I suppose you being on holiday and all, you probably don't want to talk about it?" but he couldn't help the hopeful tone to the question. He was expecting her to shoot him down, he got the impression she didn't suffer fools gladly. Instead she deflected and he was happy to go with it.

"You're a writer are you?" and there was something to the twinkle in her eye and that mesmerising lip biting which warned him there was more to the innocent question than would appear. "What sort of writer, travel books?"

He had a feeling she knew who he was, he couldn't be positive, but there had been a number of tells, her blush when she'd looked up at his invitation, the way she kept throwing slightly awed looks … no, awe wasn't the right word, he doubted she stood in awe of much … no the looks were more of consideration, as if she were comparing him with some mental image.

"No, I write mystery books," he said, deciding to play it up and watching her narrowly. He couldn't tell if she was feigning lack of knowledge or not, her face was inscrutable, eyes glancing down as she took a sip of coffee.

"Oh? Anything I might have read?"

"Storm's Last Stand? Driving Storm? Storm Rising …"

"Are you sure they're mystery novels? Sound more like weather forecasts!"

He was sure now; there was no way she could hide the brimming laughter in her eyes, so he played along, acting the part of the affronted author, adding pout to his voice as he asked, "Ok, how about In a Hail of Bullets … no? Death of a Prom Queen? Flowers For Your Grave?"

She might be keeping a straight face, but her eyes were giving her away and he was convinced she must have an idea of who he was. Maybe she'd heard about him staying here from someone else on the island, might have even recognised him from some news article or TV program … maybe she was a fan and hiding it well, though he admitted to himself that was more wishful thinking than real belief.

"Oh! That one sounds familiar, though I can't remember much about it!"

Her comment made him decide to take a different tack, so he said "Ok, well seeing as my books don't appear to have impressed you, can I at least offer you another coffee?"

She nodded, placing her empty cup on the saucer and setting it on the tray as he stood. "Can I help you?"

He glanced down at her, the morning sun catching the blonde streaks of her hair, the hazel eyes staring up at him and he swore he could see flecks of green swimming in them. Under normal circumstances he'd play the polite host, insisting she stay to enjoy the view, but something about his tawny-eyed guest made him change his mind.

"How about you help me cut up some fresh fruit for breakfast while I get the coffee?" She nodded, pushed her chair back as she stood and followed him into the bungalow. He led the way to the small kitchen, set the tray down on the counter and turned to the bowl full of fresh fruit.

"Any preferences?" he asked and Kate shook her head.

"All looks pretty good, what about you?"

"I like a kiwi, mango, caimito, and star fruit mix … sort of fruit salad but without the syrup."

"Ok," she nodded, "point me to the knife and chopping board … and point out the caimito to me … never seen one" she grinned up at him and it took him a couple of seconds before he could take a deep breath and get his mind back on track, resisting the urge to pull her up against him and taste those smiling lips was taking major effort.

He turned, slightly lost as he tried to think … oh! Right! … he pulled out the chopping board from behind the sink, set it down on the top and grabbed a knife and a teaspoon from the drawer. Next he hunted around for and found the peeler in another drawer and grabbed a couple of largish glass bowls from one of the cupboards over the cooker. Placing everything on the counter, he lifted a caimito from the bowl and showed it to her saying "Just cut it in half and scoop out the soft flesh with a spoon, leave the seeds and core" slicing the fruit and showing her before adding, "I think it's also called a star apple, but here they call them caimitos," holding out the spoon to her so that she could taste a bit. He grinned as she took the proffered purple coloured flesh and tasted it, eyebrows rising in surprise.

"Wow! That's … its sweet, but hmm, refreshing … ok, so one of these, a mango, a kiwi and star fruit?"

"Or whatever you fancy" he said, waving to the bowl and stepping aside to begin getting the coffee ready. He was inescapably aware of her standing next to him in the small kitchenette as she began to peel and chop up the fruit. He was taking his time over the preparation, tamping the ground beans down into the filter and enjoying the scent of coffee mixed with … cherries? He caught the glance she threw him and it jolted him back into action, slipping the top onto the filter before screwing the upper half of the pot back on.

He turned on the gas, twisting sideways slightly to trigger the lighter over the ring, and felt his hip brush against hers. He stood stock still, eyes staring at the bright blue flames, ears attuned to the sudden pause in chopping, waited for her to make a comment, step away … then the chopping resumed and he straightened up, threw a sideways glance at her but could tell nothing, her head was bowed as she concentrated on slicing the starfruit, but she hadn't moved away and he allowed a small sigh of relief to escape him.

He shook his head. This was not how supercool Castle behaved around women. He was respectful, yes, but he was also playful, confident and quite happy to lead the lady in question to the nearest bedroom, bathroom, broom closet or anywhere that offered sufficient privacy. He did not walk around as if stepping on egg shells. Nor was he reluctant to push the boundaries; if the answer was no, then he was quite happy to talk about something else before moving on to the next lady in line.

Nevertheless, something about the barefooted stranger standing next to him, the top of her head almost brushing his shoulder, was making him behave like an inexperienced teen. He was really going to have to up his game here, because she was totally intriguing for at least a dozen reasons and he did not want her walking out of his life just yet.

The sound of chopping coming to stop interrupted his inner conversation and he not only became aware of the gurgling coffee in front of him, he also became aware of the curious look she was throwing his way as she scooped the fruit into the bowls.

"Sorry, daydreaming!" he offered her with an apologetic smile and turned the gas off before placing the pot back on the tray. He handed her a couple of spoons for the bowls and rinsed both cups before replacing them on the saucers. Quickly he rinsed the board, knife and peeler saying "Leave any of this lying around for five minutes and you've got The Naked Jungle"

"Really, you're going with that? And who's your mail-order-bride?" hands on hip and eyebrow arched. His smile became a big grin as he looked at her, inordinately pleased at how she'd picked up on the old film reference, though he had been thinking about ants, not brides.

"I don't know, any suggestions?" waggling his eyebrows at her

"Not off the top of my head," patently pretending to ignore the innuendo, though the slight tinge of pink on her cheeks gave the lie. Trying for casualness, she asked "All set?"

Castle nodded, picked up the tray and followed her back out onto the deck.

AN: Very much appreciate all the reviews and favs/follows as always! You guys are awesome. Will get round to answering each one when I can faind a couple of free days to do so. :)