7
JACK SLEPT LATE the next morning. That wasn’t a big surprise since he’d lain awake in her bed until at least 5:00 a.m., wondering what she was doing. If she was touching herself. If she ached, the way he did. He’d listened for hours, torturing himself, waiting to see if she’d cry out when she came, as she had the night in the theater.
He wasn’t sure if he ever heard her cry out, or if he just imagined the cries of ecstasy throughout the long night hours.
Enough of that.
Rising, he pulled on some jeans, then walked down the short hallway to the master bedroom. Though the door was partially open, he knocked quietly in case she was still asleep. When there was no answer, he glanced in and saw the stripped bed.
Kate hadn’t slept in her mother’s old room.
Curious, he went downstairs and saw the pile of folded linens and a pillow on the living room sofa. Hearing a voice through the thin wall, he stepped out onto the patio and walked over to the open door of the adjoining duplex.
Kate was inside, talking on a cell phone, sounding more than a little irritated. “Look, the power was supposed to be turned on yesterday. I have my confirmation numbers, you already charged my credit card, so why am I sitting in the dark, sweaty, and unable to take a shower this morning?”
He couldn’t imagine how she could be dirty after the endless shower she’d taken the night before. She looked fresh and chipper, dressed in tight jean shorts and another of those flimsy, sleeveless tank tops. Red and wicked, it hugged her curves and made his heart skip a beat. There’d obviously been no sleepless night for her. She’d probably slept like a baby with her play toy clipped to her finger, her hand curled in her lap.
“Yes, I know it’s a Saturday,” she continued. “But please try to get someone out here this morning.”
Jack would be willing to pay any after-hour fees the company might charge if it meant getting her into her own place by that night. No way could he take another night like the previous one.
“Problems?”
She almost dropped the phone when she heard his voice. “Hi. Yes, problems. The power company’s as efficient as ever around here. They lost the work order to get the electricity back on for me before yesterday.”
Without waiting for an invitation, he entered the living room of the small house. It was a mirror image of the one next door, though it held not a stick of furniture. “You never did tell me why you’re here, anyway. I had the impression visiting Pleasantville isn’t your favorite thing to do.”
“I suppose it’s better than being buried up to my neck in a red ant nest,” she muttered.
He chuckled. “So why’re you here?”
“Business.”
Interesting, given her line of work. “Your kind of business?”
“The private kind.”
“Okay,” he said with a shrug. “Is this business going to keep you in town long?”
“A few weeks at least.”
Weeks. Damn. He’d really hoped she was making a quick trip. If she stayed, he’d be in for lots of long, sleepless nights. Even worse, it would be nearly impossible for her to avoid hearing the gossip about Edie and his father.
Jack suddenly found himself willing to do just about anything to prevent that. As sorry as he felt for Edie, he knew she’d made her choices. She’d dealt with them in her own way.
Kate hadn’t chosen to be the target of gossip, scorn and spite from this town. Yet that was about all she’d gotten here as a kid. And, he feared, about all she’d find here now.
If his sister Angela’s comments were anything to go on, Kate and her cousin hadn’t had the best time in high school. Kate hadn’t let that stop her in the least. She’d gotten out, made a life for herself, created a new world where she had the power, the money and the upper hand.
Much as he had done.
No wonder he liked her so much. After all, in spite of their dissimilar childhoods, they had a lot in common. Hadn’t they each been put into a mold by this town, and done whatever they could to break out of it? They’d both left after high school—her opening a sex shop and him focusing on career and casual relationships with a lot of different women. And they’d both come back, still wanting to rebel and shock, until they’d found each other and fallen headfirst into a hot kiss on a public street. Not to mention what had happened in the theater.
“Do you want something to eat?” he finally asked, figuring she couldn’t possibly have any groceries in the house.
“I already had a donut and a warm diet Coke, thanks.”
“How nutritious.”
“It’s not exactly the breakfast of champions, but it will do.”
Glancing toward the floor, she bent to get something out of her purse. Jack tried not to notice the way her shorts hugged her ass, the way they rode up on her thighs until he could see the hem of her panties.
Well, no, he didn’t really try not to look. He just tried not to let it affect him. Which was impossible.
After grabbing a brush, she straightened and gathered her hair into a ponytail at the back of her neck. Her shirt pulled tighter against her curves as she lifted her arms. Jack again wished he’d stayed in bed, avoiding her for the day.
“Did you sleep okay? I noticed you stayed downstairs on the couch. You could have used your mom’s room.”
She looked away, busying her hands putting the brush back into her purse. “The couch was fine.”
“Sure there was enough room for all three of you?”
“Three of us?”
“You know. You, Hugh and your little friend?” he asked, wondering what demon made him bring the subject back to what had happened last night when they’d parted.
She laughed softly.
“So what is it with Hugh Jackman? A mouth, like Connery? Dangerous glint in his eye, like Eastwood? Or that schmaltzy chick-flick-time-travel with him and Meg Ryan?”
She shook her head, licking her lips. “Wolverine in X-Men. I just love a lean-looking man who can kick ass.” She shrugged, obviously being honest and not trying to torment him sexually as she had the night before. “What can I say? I like men who can move their bodies gracefully while being seriously dangerous.”
If he were going to pursue a sexual relationship with her—which he absolutely was not, not yet anyway—he’d have contemplated inviting her to one of his Tae Kwon Do classes, which he taught three nights a week. Instead he changed the subject. “So, are you planning to sleep on the floor for weeks?”
She glanced around the empty room. “Some of my aunt’s old furniture is stored in the garage of her new place. My cousin, Cassie, is going to help me load some up and bring it here.”
“Cousin? Your cousin’s back in town, too?”
She shot him a look from half-lowered lashes. “She’s been here in town for several weeks already. Do you know her?”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t remember her at all. But I know the two of you lived here, in these houses. Is she going to stay here with you?”
“No. Her mom owns some other property around here. Cassie’s staying at Aunt Flo’s other place up on Lilac Hill.”
Jack raised a questioning brow.
“Aunt Flo had a lot of admirers in this town. Male admirers. A couple of them liked to give her presents.”
He understood. “Someone gave her a house on Lilac Hill?” At her nod, he whistled. “Some present. Who was it?”
“Mr. Miller, the banker.”
A grin tickled the corners of Jack’s lips. “He was old as dirt when I was born.”
“Flo’s not age discriminatory.”
“He was a widower with no family for as long as I can remember.” Jack thought about it. “I’m glad your aunt gave him a little bit of happiness. He was a nice old guy. You know he lived only two doors down from us.”
Her chuckle was decidedly wicked. “There goes the neighborhood.”
Knowing how his mother and sister felt about the Tremaine family, he had to wonder why he hadn’t heard anything about this latest insult upon the glory that was Winfield.
“So, Cassie stays on the hill and you’re staying here.”
“Right. Is there a problem?”
“I’m wondering why you’re not staying there with her.”
“Let’s just say the snob set’s not exactly my cup of tea.”
“But they are your cousin’s?”
Kate shrugged. “Cassie fits in anywhere. She’s very successful. You’ll probably recognize her when you see her.”
“Why?”
“She’s a lingerie model. Poses in sexy underclothes for catalogs that pretend they’re for women, but which men swipe from their wives and hide in the bathroom to look at.”
He shrugged. “And you’re a super successful store owner who makes front-page news. Sounds like both of you got away from here and made good.” He glanced around the room. “I’m sure you have more expensive tastes these days, too.”
“This is fine for me.” She raised a hand, gesturing to the small room. “Part of Cassie’s reason for staying up there was out of her innate need to be as outrageous as possible.”
“I somehow think your cousin hasn’t cornered the market on being outrageous in your family.”
Rolling her eyes, she sat on the floor, draping her arms on her upraised knees. “No, I’m the smart, quiet, sweet one.” She sounded thoroughly disgusted.
He couldn’t help it—he let out a loud bark of laughter. Her glare told him she didn’t appreciate his amusement.
“Honey, I can think of a lot of words to describe you, but something as insipid as sweet definitely isn’t on the list.”
She frowned at him. “You’re saying I’m not sweet?”
“No, you’re definitely not sweet, Kate.” Stepping across the room, he bent to sit directly in front of her. “Smart, yes. Quiet—well, only in the way that smart people are because they’re always thinking. Deciding their course of action before they act on it. Like you did at the theater.”
Her jaw tightened. “Get back to the part where you tell me why I’m not a nice person.”
He wagged an index finger at her. “Uh-uh, I didn’t say you’re not a nice person. You’re a fascinating, charming, nice woman, Kate. But not anything as simple as sweet. There are such depths to you….” He stared intently at her face, losing himself again in those dark brown eyes, wondering what was going on in that beautiful mind of hers. “I’d like to know what makes you tick,” he admitted softly.
Color rose in her cheeks and her lips parted. He’d gone too far, treaded back into personal, intimate territory. He backpedaled. “So, tell me, why do you think you’re sweet and quiet?”
“Because my family has told me I am for twenty-eight years.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Cassie was the wild, tempestuous child. I was the sweet, good girl. The little ballerina, the straight-A student.”
“I imagine you got quite a reaction with your store.”
“My mother left during the grand opening reception. Never came back again until after I started sending her copies of my bank statements.” She paused. “Of course, my aunt Flo sent a huge bouquet of orchids and told me she never thought I had a wicked streak in me. I guess they thought Cassie and I were destined to be exact replicas of them. They expected it even before we were ever born.”
Knowing how difficult it was to break out of the position in which every family tried to paint its members, he nodded in agreement. “I would be willing to bet Cassie is not nearly as wild as she’s said to be.” He leaned closer to her. “And I know you’re not exactly a good girl.”
“Really?” She looked at him so hopefully he almost laughed. He didn’t, though, not wanting to hurt her feelings.
“No, I don’t think good girls own sex shops or carry tiny vibrators around in their purses. Nor do they often go for it when offered the chance to do something as wildly impulsive as what we did at the theater.”
He waited for her to look away, to break the stare, but she didn’t. Her eyes looked softer, dreamier, as her lips parted. A tiny sigh preceded her reply. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“For seeing the Kate I see…not the one everyone else sees. For letting me be myself, not who everyone thinks I am.” She paused. “Even if who I am is sometimes a not-so-nice, not-so-sweet person.”
Jack leaned close and pressed a kiss to her temple, then brushed her hair away. He saw her pulse ticking in her throat as she looked up at him. “Sweet is boring, Kate,” he whispered. “I much prefer spicy…even if I know I’m going to get burned.”
Her moist lips parted and she tilted her head back as she took in a deep breath. He’d never seen a more clear invitation to go further. Kissing her temple wasn’t enough for either of them. He had to taste her, just once more, or else he’d go crazy wondering if her mouth was as soft as he remembered. He leaned closer, brushing his lips across her temple again, then her cheek, and her jaw. She sighed, but didn’t pull away.
“I take it back, Kate,” he murmured as he moved lower, to kiss her earlobe and the side of her neck. “You taste very sweet.” Then, unable to resist, he moved his mouth to hers. Their lips met and parted as instinctively as the beating of a heart. He licked lazily at her tongue, dipping his own into her mouth to taste her more thoroughly. She kissed him back, curling against him, tilting her head, inviting him deeper.
When they finally pulled apart, neither spoke for a moment. Then she narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you do that again.”
Her shaky voice held a warning and a challenge. He wondered if, as usual, she was trying to scare him into backing off. He mentally tsked. Obviously she didn’t remember what had happened when she’d tried that at the Rialto.
Finally, Jack smiled. “Yeah, there’s definitely both sweet and spicy to you, Kate Jones. I can’t decide which side I like better.”
Before she could reply, he got up and left the duplex.
* * *
WHEN KATE ARRIVED at Cassie’s house up on the hill that afternoon, her cousin greeted her with a big hug and a humongous margarita. “A pea-green drink in honor of your return to Pea-Ville.” Cassie held up her salt-rimmed glass to clink a toast.
Kate clinked back, then sipped deeply. The electric company still hadn’t gotten her power on by the time she’d left the house, and the drink went down like a powerful blast of air-conditioning. Besides, she’d been all hot and bothered ever since Jack had kissed her then walked out. “Ah, perfect. I’d forgotten how hot it is here in the pits of hell in the summer.”
“I guess I’m getting used to it.”
Hearing an unexpected note of warmth in Cassie’s voice, Kate raised a brow. “The heat? Or the town?”
Cassie shrugged. “Maybe a little of both.”
“Well, I can see you don’t have a scarlet letter on your shirt, so maybe things aren’t as bad as I’d expected.”
“Believe it or not, I haven’t heard one person call me a tramp since I got here.” She winked. “At least not to my face.”
Her cousin led Kate into the house, then gave her a quick tour, including a stop in Flo’s outrageously decorated boudoir.
Going back downstairs, they sat in the kitchen, drinking their margaritas and gabbing for an hour. Kate didn’t like the tired, dark circles under Cassie’s eyes—though, they certainly didn’t distract from her beauty. Since Cassie never brought up the trouble she was in, trouble that involved an over-amorous man who hadn’t taken her rejection too well, Kate didn’t, either. There would be time enough to talk about it, and to give Cassie her mail, which had been forwarded to Kate in Chicago while Cassie hid out. Kate wanted to put off handing over the dozen or more letters. “So the store’s really coming along okay?”
“Absolutely. I’ve got a couple of high school boys who’ve helped with the painting and repairs. The shelving units and cabinetry were already there from when the men’s shop was open. Carpet goes in Monday, and the stock you sent arrives daily.”
“Well, I’m here now to help with the inventory, at least, now that you did the hard stuff. The permit was approved, right? I still don’t know how you pulled it off.”
Cassie gave her an evil smile. “It’s called boobs. A low-cut shirt and a pair of breasts leaning on the desk of a city worker’s office can accomplish a lot. Including rubber-stamping an application for a business license.”
“Boobs and brains. Cassie Tremaine Montgomery, you’re a force to be reckoned with.” Kate sipped her drink.
“It’s only fair I got the bigger boobs, since you got the bigger brain,” Cassie pointed out.
Kate sighed. “But we both got the big hips.”
Cassie gave her a Cheshire-cat smile. “Most men who look at my pictures in the catalog like curvy hips.”
Kate agreed. “I’ll bet the permit guy is a fan.”
“Even if he’s not, I didn’t lie on the business app. We are going to open a lovely, tasteful little ladies’ shop….”
“With King Kong Dong featured prominently in the front display window,” Kate interjected with a snorty laugh.
They clinked their glasses again.
Cassie got up to make them a couple of sandwiches for lunch. “Speaking of King Kong Dong, or dongs in general, have you met your new neighbor yet?”
Kate didn’t answer right away, drawing a curious stare from Cassie. In spite of how close they were, Kate hadn’t told Cassie about her interlude with Jack at the Rialto. So she couldn’t exactly explain what had happened the night before when she’d discovered he was really J. J. Winfield. “We’ve met.”
“And?”
Kate got up to wash lettuce for the sandwiches.
“Come on, what gives? Aren’t you going to make him your love slave, then trample all over his heart with the heels of your six-inch-high, slut-puppy boots?”
“I don’t own slut-puppy boots.”
“You sell them.”
“I sell a lot of things that I don’t own or use myself,” she said as she sipped.
“Aw, gee. Here I figured you gave a personal testimonial with every dildo, * ring and butt plug you peddle.”
Kate laughed so hard some of her margarita spilled from the corner of her lips. “You are as bad as Armand.”
“So tell me about the Winfield prince,” Cassie said.
“I don’t know about Jack—J.J. He’s not what I expected.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning he might be more than I can handle.”
Cassie lifted a brow. There probably wasn’t a man alive who her cousin couldn’t handle. But Kate wasn’t Cassie.
“Maybe I’d better start out a little easier. Focus on some of my other goals. Like the shop. Or Angela and Darren.”
“Hmm, yeah, I forgot about them. I saw Angela one day, walking out to her car. She and her mom live up the street.”
“Please tell me she’s fat.”
“Sorry, hon. She looks pretty good. Still looks like a total bitch, but not a Jenny Craig-bound one.”
Rats.
“What about Darren?”
“Works at a car dealership and lives downtown in an apartment over the Tea Room. Did you know he and Angela were married for a while right after high school? The rumor mill says she got knocked up on prom night. They married that summer. Then when she lost the baby, he divorced her and went into the army.”
Kate winced. “Maybe I should thank her for stealing him on prom night.” She couldn’t imagine how her life might have ended up if she’d been the pregnant teen. Probably she’d be living here, bitter and sour with a poochy belly, saggy breasts and four kids who looked like moon-faced Darren clinging to her skirts.
Kate met Cassie’s eye, knowing she was thinking along the same lines. They exchanged shaky smiles. “Here’s to what didn’t happen to us on prom night,” Kate said softly.
Cassie nodded. “Hear, hear.”
* * *
JACK LUCKED OUT and arrived at his mother’s house after she’d left for her Saturday hair appointment. Closing himself in his father’s office—to the chagrin of Leonardo the bulldog—he spent two hours balancing bank statements, sorting out documents. He heard his sister Angela moving around, once stopping to have a long phone conversation in the next room.
He didn’t get his sister. Angela was pretty and had been given every advantage. She’d been the apple of their parents’ eye, and had once had a genuine sweetness to her personality. Sure, she was spoiled. She’d shown signs of that, even as a toddler. But at least before, when she’d been a kid, she’d had an infectious laugh and a beautiful smile. In the fifteen years he’d been gone, she’d lost them both. Probably three failed marriages and two miscarriages could do that to a person.
Resolving to get along better with her, he forced a look of welcome to his face when she walked into the office. “Hi.”
“You busy?”
He nodded and rubbed his weary eyes. “Dad left a mess.”
Her laugh could only be described as bitter. “Yeah. As usual.” She sat on a chair next to the window. “I don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind and plan to stay here.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ang. I don’t know how you can stand it. I can’t breathe in this place.”
“Even after he died Dad still managed to drive you away.”
Jack pushed his chair back. “What are you talking about?”
“I mean, you took off fifteen years ago because of him. Because of how he pressured you to follow in his footsteps.”
“Most fathers do.”
Angela continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “And as soon as it looks like you’re going to come back, you find out about his dirty little secret and won’t stay here now, either.”
Jack shook his head. “It’s more complicated than that. How did you find out about Dad and Edie, anyway?”
She glanced out the window. “I saw them kissing once. Not long after you’d gone away to college.”
She’d been thirteen. He swallowed, hard. “What’d you do?”
“Nothing. I didn’t confront him, or tell Mother, or anybody else. I was afraid if she found out, they’d get a divorce and I’d be shuffled back and forth between them forever.”
A wave of guilt washed over him as he acknowledged he’d left her here without an ally in his hurry to escape from home. “I’m sorry, Angela. But maybe now it’s time to move on. Have you thought about getting out of here, too?”
“I’ve been dying to move out, get my own place downtown, but Mother plays the guilt card whenever I mention it.”
“I meant, maybe it’s time to get out of Pleasantville.”
“I can’t. I don’t want to leave him…I mean, leave here.”
Him? He didn’t think Angela was seeing anyone, though she’d been divorced from her third husband for over a year.
She stood abruptly. “I have to go. I have a nail appointment. Be sure to lock up when you leave, okay? Mother doesn’t trust Sophie to secure the house.” Her jaw clenched.
“After all, she’s not nearly as trustworthy as Edie was.”
Judging by the way she spat out the other woman’s name, Jack surmised his sister had not been able to forgive and forget.
As Angela left the room his parents’ ever-hopeful dog, Leonardo, slunk in and strolled over to the desk. At Leonardo’s longing glance at his jeans-clad leg, Jack shot him a suspicious glare. “Dog, how many years is it gonna take for you to figure out you’ve got no balls?”
Leonardo gave him a sheepish glance from his wrinkled face. Walking around in circles once or twice, he appeared to be looking for something—or someone. He finally curled up at Jack’s feet and looked up at him with sad eyes.
“Okay,” Jack said with a sigh. “I guess you miss him, too.”
A half hour later he straightened up to leave, determined to get out before his mother got back. After making sure the mutt had enough water, he locked up and headed for his father’s pickup truck, which he’d been driving during his stay.
As he drove down the street, he glanced toward old Mr. Miller’s house and saw a shapely brunette in a red tank top trying to drag a big mattress across the driveway.
He immediately stopped the truck. “Kate, are you trying to break your back? Put that down.”
She dropped the end of the mattress and frowned at him. “You distracted me. Do you know how long it took to tug that thing out of the garage?”
He trotted across the driveway to her side. “I thought your cousin was going to help you.”
“She is. She’s had a bunch of phone calls to deal with. Problems with her agent.”
“And Miss Have-To-Do-It-Now can’t wait for her?”
“I’m not helpless. I’ve gotten a bunch of other stuff by myself.” She gestured toward her SUV, which already held a couple of chairs. And, judging by the upraised legs that nearly reached the interior roof, a small kitchen table.
He couldn’t believe she’d done it all alone. “I suppose you plan to unload all this stuff without help when you get back home, too?”
She scuffed the toe of her sneaker on the driveway and mumbled, “Well, I kinda figured you’d be back sooner or later.”
“Back to help you unload it, or to make you another ice pack and take care of you again after you slip a disc?”
Wrong thing to say. They both instantly remembered how he’d taken care of her the night before. Awareness hummed between them, as always, now not below the surface, but right out in the open again.
She bit the corner of her lip. “Look,” she finally said, “I’m almost done, are you going to help me or criticize me?”
He glanced at the open hatch and the mattress. “Honey, I hate to tell you this, but you’ve got a size problem here. I don’t think something this big is going to fit in there.”
“You sound like a conceited teenage boy about to get laid for the first time.”
Not recognizing the sultry voice of the woman who’d spoken, he turned and saw a shapely blonde standing just behind them on the driveway. She had her head cocked to the side and her hand on one hip, smiling wickedly. With her eye-popping build, sunny-blond hair and outrageous words, he immediately assumed she was the cousin.
Frowning, he ignored her comment. “I hope your call was important, since your cousin nearly gave herself a hernia out here.”
The blonde’s brow shot up. She immediately turned to Kate. “Katey, I told you to wait for me. Good grief, how’d you carry all that stuff by yourself?”
Kate didn’t answer. She was too busy looking back and forth between Jack and Cassie, a confused frown scrunching her brow.
Jack grabbed the end of the mattress. “Let me throw this in the truck and take it for you, Kate. I’m going home anyway.”
“Home?” the blonde—Cassie—asked. Then understanding crossed her face. “Oh, my, you’re J. J. Winfield, aren’t you?”
He swallowed a groan. “Jack. Jack Winfield.”
The blonde didn’t reply, just looked him over, head to toe, very intently. Smiling, she extended her hand. “Hi, Jack. I’m Cassie. The truck’s a great idea. Can you take a few other things, too?”
“Sure,” he said, still wondering why Kate looked so befuddled and hadn’t said a single word since her cousin had come out of the house. “Is that all right with you, Kate?”
After she nodded, he hoisted the queen-size mattress up with both hands. He saw Cassie’s eyes widen as she stared at his arms, chest and shoulders. As he walked away, he heard her whisper, “Too much to handle, indeed. But oh, Kate, wouldn’t you have fun trying?”
They loaded up his truck with the few remaining pieces of furniture and were finished within a half hour of his arrival. Cassie disappeared into the house again, after thanking Jack once more for his help.
“Are you heading back now? Or do you want me to drive this stuff back, then wait for you to get there to unload it?”
“Let me say goodbye to Cassie and I’ll come back so we can unload it this afternoon.” She turned to go into the house, then paused. “Jack? Thanks a lot for stopping to help. I really do appreciate it.”
He shrugged. “Just being neighborly.”
She glanced up and down the block, at the manicured lawns, the gated driveways that were filled with expensive cars. “Yeah. Right. I’m sure there were bunches of other neighbors lacing up their deck shoes to come out and help when you stopped. I bet they’re still peering out their windows, waiting for the chance to lend a hand.”
He followed her stare, figuring she was probably right, but not admitting it. “It’s not all bad here.”
“I guess Cassie likes it. But I wouldn’t be able to stand the quiet sense of knowing everyone on the block is watching every move you make.” She brushed an errant, damp strand of hair off her brow. “It’d be like living in a goldfish bowl, some big fat cat always waiting to pounce on you if you leap out of the safe waters where you belong.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what it was like growing up.”
Their eyes met. She looked surprised that he agreed.
As for Jack, he thought it remarkable how quickly Kate had nailed what his childhood had been like on this block. In this town.
“Can I venture a guess that living on Pansy Lane was something like a fishbowl, too?”
Her slow nod was his only answer.
He reached out to brush away the blowing strand of hair again. His fingers connected with her temple, sending heat through his body. Heat that had absolutely nothing to do with the blazing sunshine overhead.
“Then I guess it’s a good thing we both like to live a little dangerously.”
* * *
WHEN THEY GOT BACK to the duplex, Kate first went inside to check the power, then leaned out to give him a thumbs-up. “Yes! Houston, we have ignition.”
“Good, now you can take a shower in your own bathroom tonight,” he muttered.
They unloaded the truck, making several trips.
“So,” she asked as they carried some chairs into the kitchen. “Did you get a lot done at your mother’s house today?”
She seemed to be making an effort to be polite, social and absolutely impersonal. He followed her lead. “Barely made a dent. My father had accounts all over the state, with at least a dozen banks. He owned property I didn’t know about, held mortgages my mother didn’t even know about. I haven’t even gotten to the stuff in a file marked Private that I found in his desk drawer.”
“Well, if you need any help, I do have some accounting background.” At his look of surprise, she hurried on. “What? I mean, I do owe you one for helping me today.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a smile. “Though, maybe I’ll choose the way you repay me.”
They left the queen-size mattress for last. It would be the trickiest, since it had to go up the narrow staircase to the bedroom. “Hope you sleep really well to make it worth lugging this thing all over town,” he said as they hoisted the thing through the doorway. They dropped it right on the floor as Kate hadn’t bothered with a bed frame.
“At least it’s not a twin,” she said with a smile, obviously referring to the way he spent his own nights. “Nice and roomy.”
He frowned. “You’re not planning on sharing it, are you?”
“Huh?” She looked truly puzzled and he felt like an idiot for his instant of jealousy. “Wait a second.” She pointed an index finger at him. “You want to know if another man is going to be staying over here occasionally.”
He crossed his arms, not saying anything. She chuckled. “Uh, I don’t think so, Jack. In spite of what you might think, given the way I acted on the day we met, I’m not a bed hopper.” She paused. “I don’t think I could even be called a bed crawler, these days.”
Good.
“Not that it’s any of your business.”
“No, of course not.” Damn right it was his business.
“If I did choose to bring someone here, you’d have absolutely no say in the matter,” she continued, almost challenging him to deny it.
He stepped closer, tipping her chin up with his index finger until she met his eye. “I wouldn’t say a word.” Her lashes lowered as she tried to look down. “I can promise I wouldn’t say anything to him as I threw him out the window, Kate.”
She bit her lip, looking both confused and a little bit pleased. Unable to resist, he bent to kiss her mouth. Lightly. Playfully.
“What was that for?” She brought her shaking fingers to her mouth when he ended the kiss and stepped away.
“Just to remind you.”
“Remind me of what?”
He walked toward the door, but glanced over his shoulder.
“That I’m the only man you want.”