8
KATE DECIDED to spend her first few days in Pleasantville devoting all her thoughts to the new store. And none to her love life, such as it was. That didn’t count her dreams, of course, over which she had no control.
Jack starred in them every night, damn it.
On Saturday night, after Jack had helped her unload some furniture at the duplex and given her the playful kiss that had left her reeling, she went downtown to see the shop for the first time. Cassie and her high school helpers had done a great job. Sure, there were some lighting problems, but the old dressing room area was perfect, with lots of mirrors so customers could get addicted to Armand’s luxurious lingerie. And the store had adequate air-conditioning and plenty of display shelves, with discreet alcoves for some of their more risqué items. If this store were in some other town, she could envision it thriving.
Kate and Cassie enjoyed eating pizza, listening to loud music, drinking wine and examining sex toys until late Saturday night. At least until the sheriff, Sean Taggart, showed up.
As soon as Kate saw him, she understood why Cassie got such a strange look on her face whenever his name came up. The man was pure, rugged manna from tough-guy heaven. Maybe not movie-star gorgeous, like Jack, but with his lean body, thick brown hair and dangerous smile, she could see why Cassie might find him distracting. So distracting that Kate immediately decided to leave the two of them alone. After all, it wasn’t often she saw her cousin nearly blushing around a man.
It also wasn’t every day she came across a man who did not turn into a tongue-tied, drooling idiot around her cousin. Jack hadn’t. On Saturday, when Cassie had been at her Cassie-est, all blond, leggy and saucy, he’d barely glanced in her direction.
She hadn’t known whether to kiss him or to take his pulse to see if he was still alive and breathing. In any case, she could almost love him for it. “Love him?” Insane. She barely liked him.
Well, she conceded, that was a big lie. She did like him, she’d liked him from the minute they met, in spite of who his father had been. He was charming and sexy, playful and self-confident. She liked that he didn’t swagger, and he felt no need to play tough guy. He was a flirt, a man who liked women. Right now he liked her, she knew it, in spite of his failure to call. She could see the heat in his eyes when he looked at her. He wanted her every bit as much as he had their first day. But something was holding him back.
If his last name were different, and if he’d come up with a reasonable excuse for not calling her, she might have tried to find out what was stopping him. And maybe she would have tried to change his mind.
The realization floored her. How strange that for the first time in nearly forever, she’d found someone who tempted her to let him get closer. She could conceive of lowering some of her guard, taking a chance on what could be a fabulously erotic, exciting relationship. But he’d erected barriers even taller than her own.
She supposed it was just as well there were insurmountable walls between them right up front. Jack obviously liked to play. A lot. He wasn’t the stick-around type and she knew it. While Kate believed if there ever did come a time when she found that one right guy—her true love—she’d be a goner for life.
Much like her mother had been, unfortunately.
Over the next couple of days Kate refrained from pumping Cassie about her problems—either her old ones, or her new one, in the form of the hunky sheriff. Somehow, while they priced, ordered and set up displays, she found herself getting excited as she had before the opening of her shop in Chicago.
Knock it off, this isn’t the same thing at all!
Nope, it definitely wasn’t. In Chicago, she’d wanted her shop to be a wild success. Here, she fully expected it to be a grand failure. But at least they’d have fun failing, doing it publicly, right on the main street of Pleasantville. And, as they failed, she’d be right here in case Cassie needed her. She knew her cousin too well…if Kate had stayed in Chicago, Cassie would never have come to her if things got bad. Here, she couldn’t very well avoid it!
She managed to avoid Jack for the most part—not an easy feat considering their close living quarters. But he was usually gone during the day, and so was she. That suited her fine.
Nights were tougher. They slept mere inches apart, separated only by the width of one slim, interior wall. There were times when she thought she heard his hand brush the wall behind her head, when he’d roll over in her old bed next door. She knew from childhood experience that at times she and Cassie had heard each other’s late-night bad dream cries.
On Wednesday morning she stepped outside on the porch as soon as she got up, glad for the fresh early-morning air. Down the block, a mother rode a bicycle, with a toddler in the child seat. The woman waved as she rode by.
A nice, peaceful morning. She didn’t remember those from when she’d lived here, though, she supposed there must have been some. At least for Edie. Otherwise, why would her mother have ever come back here when Kate’s dad died?
Hearing sounds coming from next door, she stepped closer and peered into the front window of her mother’s duplex. She wished she hadn’t. Jack stood in his living room, bare-chested, wearing only a pair of loose white pants. He was stretching, moving his body with fluidity and grace. And power. It took a second for her muddled brain to realize that he was running through some type of karate moves.
He had no idea she was there. So she watched for several minutes. The sweat gleamed on his bare chest and thick arms as he swung and kicked and arched. He moved his body like a sleek animal, a finely tuned—but dangerous—machine.
Walk away before he sees you. She couldn’t, though. She couldn’t turn and walk into her house. Just one more moment of watching…. One moment stretched into five or ten minutes until finally, inevitably, he glanced up and saw her there.
He immediately stopped. They stared at each other through the glass for a minute, then Jack lifted his hand and pointed toward her with his index finger, wagging it back and forth like a parent to a kid who’d done something naughty.
Act innocent. She gave him a “Who me?” shrug.
He crossed his arms and raised his brow, waiting for her to admit she’d been spying on him.
“Oh, all right,” she muttered. As she entered the front door she immediately launched into an explanation. “I didn’t mean to watch you working out. I just stepped out for some fresh air, and couldn’t help noticing.”
“Uh-huh,” he said as he began to stretch his arms out, slowly rolling his shoulders as if cooling down from his workout.
“I mean, the curtains were open. I just caught a glimpse.”
“Right.”
His one-word answers did nothing to hide his amusement.
“Really, Jack, I do respect your privacy.”
He finally stopped moving all those yummy muscles long enough to meet her eye. “Kate, you’ve been standing there for almost ten minutes.”
She fisted her hands and put them on her hips. “You saw me?”
“No,” he admitted. Then he grinned. “But I heard your front door open, and that board on the front porch really creaks.”
She was surprised he’d been able to hear anything except his own churning pulse as he’d flexed and stretched all those lovely, hard muscles. She forced herself to look away, wondering if she’d been drooling while she’d watched from the window. She surreptitiously lifted her fingers to her chin to check.
“So, uh, were you doing some kind of karate?” she finally asked, wanting to fill the charged silence. “I’ve thought about taking some self-defense courses.”
“Tae Kwon Do. If you’re serious, I teach at a studio in Chicago. I can give you the address.”
That implied they’d see one another after they left Pleasantville, something Kate hadn’t really allowed herself to consider. “Well, I don’t know….”
“If you don’t feel comfortable in a class,” he said with a cajoling smile, “I’d be happy to work with you one on one.”
Work with her. One on one. How about one you on one me?
She gulped. “I’d better go.”
He grabbed a white towel and draped it over his shoulders. “Don’t go. I’ll make you some breakfast. I can’t promise gourmet food like diet Coke and donuts, but I can do a decent omelet.”
Considering she hadn’t bothered to do a grocery shopping trip, and had been living off fast food and 7-Eleven burritos for the past few days, Kate’s stomach overruled her brain. “Great.”
“Lemme change.”
You don’t have to on my account!
While he was upstairs, Kate went into the kitchen, glad to see Jack was keeping the place spotless, just as it had been when her mother had lived here. Kate, unfortunately, was more the slob type. And the world’s greatest chef—or even a competent one—she was not. She did, however, know how to crack an egg and was hard at it when he returned, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.
“So tell me why you want to take self-defense courses,” he said as he began making their breakfast.
“I dunno, I live in a big city and run a rather infamous store. I got a few wacky phone calls after that article.”
Jack’s shoulders stiffened. “Did anyone threaten you?”
“Oh, no. I just got asked on some unusual dates—to strip clubs, S and M hangouts and the Circus.”
“Circus sounds pretty normal.”
“I thought so, too, at first. Turns out there’s a sex show called the Circus where the animals are all people in costume who offer rides to members of the audience.”
“I think I’d rather not have known that,” he said with a groan as he diced some ham for the omelets.
“Me, too.” She made herself at home, finding his coffee supply and filling the coffeepot. “I guess some people heard about my shop and instantly thought the worst of me.”
He put the knife down to study her. “You’ve had to deal with that before, haven’t you?”
She knew he meant here, in Pleasantville. “Ancient history.”
“So how does it measure up now? How has the town treated you these first few days?”
So far, she had to admit, things had been okay. Then again, she hadn’t been out too much, staying mostly at home, at Cassie’s place or at the store. “Fine, actually. How about you? Has the red carpet been rolled out for the return of the prodigal son?”
“I’m keeping a low profile, though one of my father’s friends asked me to move back and run for mayor next year.”
“Will you?” She held her breath waiting for his answer.
“Not on your life.”
She nearly sighed in relief. Why would it matter to you if he came back here, married the local big-haired town princess and stayed forever? She didn’t know why, she only knew it would matter.
Somehow, even though she’d told herself nothing was going to happen between them, Kate couldn’t imagine being in Chicago, knowing Jack wasn’t there somewhere, in that big bustling city, stopping traffic on the street with his smile and teaching his Tae Kwon Do classes. Tackling intruders and doing fix-it work on a needy woman’s house.
Their eyes met, and somehow Kate knew Jack had read her thoughts. He knew she liked him, and she felt drawn to him.
Kate’s eyes widened as Jack stepped close, until she was backed up against the kitchen counter, and he pressed almost neck to toe against her body. “I’m looking forward to a lot of things changing when I get back to Chicago, Kate.” He lifted a hand to her face, softly caressing her cheekbone, then touching a strand of her hair. “Changing for both of us.”
Before she could ask him to explain, he’d turned back to the stove. Kate clutched the counter and sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to regain her composure. By the time breakfast was ready, she felt completely calm and relaxed, or at least she thought she looked that way—no point in wondering if he knew she was still edgy and aware, and now very curious about what he’d meant about things changing between them.
“So, Jack, what else do you do in your real life. You’re an architect. Ever designed anything I’ve actually heard of?”
He answered with a question. “Like to go shopping?”
“Does Imelda Marcos like shoes?”
He chuckled. “My firm designed the new Great Lakes Mall. I managed the project.”
She gave a little whistle of appreciation. “Nice. Anything else?”
He named a few more buildings Kate instantly recognized, particularly the stores and shopping centers. “Sounds like retail’s your niche.”
“Mmm-hmm. If you ever decide to open a new Bare Essentials, let me know.”
If only you knew…
“How’d you get into architecture? Didn’t Daddy want you to follow in his footsteps and become a lawyer?”
“I prefer to build things, not tear them apart, which is what lawyers seem to spend a lot of their time doing.” He flipped their omelets onto two plates and carried them to the table. “I really built things when I was going to college. I worked for a construction company in L.A. every summer.”
“I somehow pictured you surfing your way through college.”
“Ha! I tried it once and the damn board almost tore my ear off. After I wiped out, it hit me in the head. I still have the scar.” He turned his head, pushing his hair up with his fingers. Kate bit her lip. Unable to resist, she stepped closer, until the toes of her sandals nearly touched his bare feet.
His hair was still slightly damp with sweat from his workout, and his skin still glowed with energy. She gulped, trying to ignore her response, and examined the thin scar that ran from just under his earlobe into his hairline.
If she wasn’t mistaken, she might have kissed that spot during their interlude at the theater. Her heart skipped a beat.
“Ouch,” she murmured.
He seemed to notice her sudden intensity, and her closeness. Her face was inches from his neck, and she inhaled deeply, smelling his musky warmth. She closed her eyes briefly, remembering what it had been like to kiss him. To touch him.
Lord help her, she still wanted him so much she could barely stand up. She wanted to nibble on his neck, to taste his earlobe, to feel his body get all sweaty again—preferably while it was on top of hers. Inside hers.
“You ready?” he asked, letting his hand fall to his side.
She nodded dumbly. “Uh-huh.” Ready for just about anything.
“Do you like it spicy?”
Spicy? Oh, yeah, she loved it spicy. “Yeah. Real spicy.”
“I think there’s Tabasco sauce in the fridge.”
Tabasco? Kate shook her head, hard, and realized Jack was watching her with an amused, knowing look on his face.
He’d been talking about hot and spicy eggs.
She’d been thinking about hot and spicy sex.
Please, floor, open up under me and swallow me whole.
“Kate?”
She raised a brow, trying to pretend she hadn’t been picturing some of the spicy things the two of them could do on the kitchen table. Or counter. Or floor. “Huh?”
He reached for her, his hand brushing past her hip as he touched the handle on the refrigerator door. She jumped out of the way, noticing the way his hand tightened on the handle, as if he were exerting some great effort. Possibly for control? Was he as affected as she by their closeness?
There was only one way to find out. She reached out and touched the thin scar on his neck. He flinched and glanced at her. “It must have hurt,” she said softly.
Jack didn’t pull away as she moved closer, standing on tiptoes until her lips brushed his neck. Remembering the way he’d kissed her hip in the shower, she couldn’t help kissing that hot, damp, male skin. Slipping her tongue out, she savored the faint salty flavor of sweat from his workout. She sighed at how good he tasted to her. Her touch elicited an answering groan from him, but he didn’t move away. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to kiss it and make it better,” she murmured as she moved her lips higher, kissing a path up to his earlobe. She stepped closer, for better access, sliding one foot between his, until his thigh was nestled between her legs. Kate closed her eyes briefly at the very intimate contact.
He muttered a soft curse, as if he could take no more. Catching her around the waist, he lifted her higher, pressing his leg tighter against her sex as he lowered his mouth to hers. Their kiss was explosive. Hot and wet. Deep and hungry. Kate met every thrust of his tongue, loving the way he tasted, the way he explored her mouth as if he couldn’t get enough of her. She jerked her hips, needing the strength of his hard thigh against the crotch of her jean shorts.
When they finally broke apart, Jack stared down at her, warmth and tenderness shining through the passion of his gaze. “I invited you to breakfast. I didn’t intend to leap on you at the first opportunity.”
To be honest, she’d done the leaping. But she didn’t point that out. “I wasn’t playing any get-back-at-you games,” she admitted softly. “Like Friday.”
“Good. I wasn’t playing games, either. But I think we should probably sit down and eat.”
Nodding, she took a few deep breaths, trying to forget the way he’d kissed her, the way the strong muscles of his thigh had felt against her still-aroused body. She was too thankful that he wasn’t going to tease her about her momentary lapse into mindless lust to argue.
As they sat to eat, Jack apparently looked for a quick way to change the subject. “Hey, I know what I forgot to tell you. I heard some news about the Rialto yesterday.”
“Really?”
“Apparently the city now owns it, due to a loan default. It’s sat there empty for years, but now a group of concerned citizens has announced they’re going to work on renovating it, then open it as a public playhouse.”
She smiled. “Wonderful.”
“It gets better. Rose Madison is leading the effort.”
“Miss Rose?”
He nodded. “She’s the one who told me about it. I ran into her. I mentioned we were both happy to see some work being done on the old place.”
“Did she remember me?”
“Yes. She said if you want to pay for those free movies, you’re welcome to come down anytime with a paintbrush.”
“I think I can wield a paintbrush.”
“Hopefully better than you can crack an egg,” he said with a grin as he picked a tiny white piece of shell off his tongue.
“You got me. I’m a lousy cook. But if you want me to tell you how to save money at the grocery store, I’m your woman.”
“Absolutely,” he said softly.
Absolutely? What did that mean? Absolutely he wanted to learn how to save money grocery shopping?
Or…absolutely, she was his woman?
Too chicken to ask which he meant, since she wasn’t sure what she wanted his answer to be, Kate finished her breakfast, thanked him and then left.
But she wondered about his comment all day long. Not to mention their kiss.
* * *
JACK SPENT THE AFTERNOON out of the area, visiting some of his late father’s properties in nearby towns. They were mostly rentals, small tract houses for young families. His father hadn’t been a slumlord, but some of the buildings were old and in need of repair. The agent who was handling the sales told him he’d take care of it.
When he got back to Pleasantville that afternoon, he found the duplex empty. Kate’s SUV was not parked outside. She’d probably gone back to her cousin’s place on Lilac Hill, which was the reason Jack decided not to go to his mother’s house.
He told himself he wasn’t avoiding her. No, he was just trying to avoid temptation. He hadn’t been kidding in the kitchen when he’d said he wanted things to change between them once they got back to Chicago. That day couldn’t come soon enough for him, particularly after that kiss they’d shared.
He had also been fully aware of her desire for him. Hell, she’d worn it as if it were perfume, oozing from her every pore. So staying away from her seemed to be the smart choice.
Needing something to do, he remembered Rose’s request for help at the Rialto. He’d developed a real affection for the old theater, particularly since the day he’d met Kate. Changing into some old clothes, he drove downtown and pulled up outside the Rialto.
Right behind a silver SUV.
Drive away. Of course he didn’t. Seeing her might be foolish, since he already spent way too much of his time thinking about her, but he parked and got out of his truck, anyway.
As he entered the building he heard loud music blaring from a boom box and saw a pair of bare legs, complete with paint-speckled sneakers, dangling from a scaffold. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, recognizing the curve of Kate’s calves.
He realized he probably should not have startled her only after he saw her drop the paintbrush. Right toward his head.
A quick step back saved his skull, but not his shorts.
“Jack,” she cried as the brush careened down his leg, leaving squishy beige marks in its path.
“I’m really sorry,” she muttered. She shimmied on her hands and knees across the wood plank of the scaffolding, doing very interesting things to her black gym shorts. Well, black and beige gym shorts, considering all the paint stains.
She reached the built-in metal ladder on the side of the scaffold and swung around to it. Not wanting her to drop anything else—including herself—Jack went over and steadied her as she descended.
“Did you get any paint on the walls?” he asked her, looking down at her speckled clothes. And her skin. Not to mention her face and hair. “You are a complete mess.”
“That’s what long showers are for.”
Oh, great. Kate was taking another long shower. Maybe he should just shoot himself now.
Looking around the empty lobby, he said, “You here alone?”
She nodded. “Miss Rose and her brother were here when I arrived. They were just getting ready to go for a dinner break, but said if I wanted to I could keep working on this wall.”
Jack followed her gaze and looked at the interior wall that she’d been painting. It extended up all the way to the top of the open, two-story lobby. Where Kate had been working, he saw a big circle of paint. “Didn’t anyone teach you to do the trim first?”
“Since you’re the construction genius, why don’t you do it?” She bent, grabbed another brush and tossed it to him. Though not paint covered, the brush was wet and as he caught it on the bristle-side, it oozed beige-tinged water between his fingers.
“Nice,” he said as he shook the moisture off. “I think you’ve been selling body paint at your store too long. This kind doesn’t come off so easily.”
She stepped closer, a laugh on her lips. “Oh, so you’re saying I shouldn’t do…this?” She lifted her completely white hand and cupped his cheek.
He cringed, then realized he didn’t feel moisture against his skin. “If that paint on your hand had been wet, I’d be turning you over my knee and spanking you right now.”
Her eyes widened. “Oooh, sounds kinky. I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing.”
“I’m not,” he replied. He had to know. “Are you?”
She turned her head slightly and peeked at him through lowered lashes. “Light S and M? Well, lots of my customers are.”
He couldn’t resist asking, “Light S and M? How, exactly, would that differ from the heavy variety?”
She shrugged. “It’s more playful, not for seriously weirded-out people. We don’t sell whips, belts or paddles. But some couples enjoy the occasional black leather dominatrix outfit.”
He had a sudden mental picture of her wearing black leather and clenched his jaw.
“And, of course, there’s also light bondage. Handcuffs, silk scarves, blindfolds. It’s all part of the fantasy.”
“Fantasy?” God help him. Even though it might give him another long, sleepless night, he really wanted to know her fantasies. “Like?”
“Like being overwhelmed,” she admitted softly. “Letting yourself be overcome by passion, even made helpless when you’re with someone you can trust.” She bit the corner of her lip, as if deciding to continue. “Exploring every possibility, going as far as your body can go, without being able to stop, because someone you know would never hurt you is in complete control.”
Kate was nearly covered with paint from head to toe. Her thick, dark hair was pulled haphazardly into a ponytail at the back of her neck. She wore no makeup and she held a drippy paint roller plopping little drops of paint on the plastic drop cloth every time she moved it.
He’d never wanted her more.
Jack had walked hip-deep into this conversation, so he had no one else to blame. And he couldn’t quite find a way to get out of it. Nor was he sure he wanted to.
“Is that your fantasy?” He heard the thick tone in his voice. “Being overwhelmed? Letting someone you trust give you pleasure without any mental barriers, any restrictions, taking because you have no other choice but to take?”
“I think so,” she murmured. “Being free to wring every ounce of gratification you can because it’s beyond your control to stop it.”
In twenty seconds Kate had just made him understand the appeal of silk scarves and handcuffs.
“You must be really good at your job,” he said softly. “Though, I still don’t get the whole spanking thing.”
She gave him a wicked grin. “Well, I don’t particularly care for pain, but I have to say you are very good at kissing and making all better.”
Remembering kissing her hip in the shower the other night, he knew exactly what she meant. His body reacted instinctively, another sudden rush of heat rushing southward from his gut to his groin. “Now, I could take that the wrong way and be offended,” he said, stepping closer.
“Oh?”
He nodded. “You just basically told me to kiss your ass. I could take it as an insult.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Or a really tempting invitation.”
Her lips parted and her tongue snaked out to moisten them.
“Which do you think it was?”
Unable to resist, he lifted a hand to her throat, running his finger down and touching its hollow. “I think if this were a week ago, it’d be an insult. Today, I’m not so sure.”
She closed her eyes, tilting her head back as he traced a path around her neck, to her collarbone, touching her only with the tips of his fingers. “Me, neither,” she admitted.
Needing to feel her in his arms again, Jack tilted her chin up and caught her mouth with his own. She moaned, parting her lips, inviting him deeper, and he accepted her invitation.
He loved kissing Kate. Every time was better than the last, hot and sweet, carnal and tender. He made love to her mouth, tasting her, drinking of her, making no effort to step away to disguise his body’s reaction. She pressed against him, moaning again as he moved his mouth to press kisses on her jaw. “It’s hard to find a clean spot,” he said with a chuckle.
“Here’s one,” she whispered, pushing the sleeve of her tank top, and her bra strap, to the edge of her shoulder. A naughty invitation, which he immediately accepted. He kissed down her neck, to her collarbone, and right below it.
“Where else?” he asked, nudging the cotton top down even lower. She answered with only a soft sigh and an arch in her back, telling him to proceed. He did, scraping his tongue down to the top curve of her breast, then sliding it lower to flick at her pebbled nipple.
She quivered in his arms, and leaned back against the old refreshment counter. Appropriate. He wanted to completely gobble her up. But first he wanted to see her.
As if he had no control over them, his hands moved to the waistband of her shorts and tugged her shirt free. He lifted it up, slowly, watching as the toned, creamy-colored skin of her stomach was revealed inch by inch. Until finally he saw the lace of her bra and the bottom curves of her breasts. His mouth went dry with hunger. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered as he moved his hands higher. She didn’t reply, just arched into his touch, twisting until he slipped his fingers beneath her bra. She hissed when he touched her nipples, tweaking them lightly, stroking and teasing the way he knew she’d liked when they’d made love before.
“I have to taste you,” he muttered.
Before Kate responded, Jack heard the front door of the theater open. Footsteps echoed on the tile floor. Acting instinctively, he yanked Kate’s shirt down, and turned to shield her behind him while she put herself back together.
“Get a lot of work done?” someone called. Wincing, Jack watched as Miss Rose and her grinning brother entered the lobby. The older woman gave Jack and Kate a pointed glance. “If Jack wants to be covered with paint, he’s welcome to get on the scaffold and make a mess of himself, just like you have,” Rose said with a chuckle. “There was no need to share yours, Kate.”
Kate scrunched her eyes closed, obviously embarrassed as hell. Jack chuckled and reached for a paint tray. “Okay, Kate, you were good enough to teach me one or two things this afternoon.” He winked. “How about I teach you how to paint?”
* * *
THROUGHOUT THE NEXT DAY, as Kate worked in the store with Cassie and some high school boys who followed her cousin around like puppy dogs, she kept wondering if she should move and stay with Cassie up on Lilac Hill. Even after everyone else left, leaving her alone in the shop to finish up some paperwork and cleaning, she thought about it. Cassie’s house would be safer. Having Jack next door was impossible, especially now, after what had happened yesterday. Their kiss in the theater had been intoxicating. If Miss Rose hadn’t come back when she did, they might have ended up rolling around on the floor, covering their naked bodies with the specks of paint littering the drop cloth.
She should move. Jack was simply too tempting. Too disturbing. Sooner or later they were going to end up back in bed together, and she didn’t know if either of them was prepared for the consequences of that.
One other thing disturbed her about being back in town.
“Hiya, Kate! How’s the store coming along?”
Friendliness. Damn, she really couldn’t get used to that.
Pausing with her hand filled with the paper towels she’d been using to clean the front window of the store early Thursday evening, she turned around. Diane. New owner of the Downtown Deli, whom Kate had met during her one-day trip to town, then again when she’d gone in for lunch Monday. “Good, thanks.”
“I remember when we were gearing up to open,” the sweet-faced strawberry-blonde continued, as if not noticing Kate’s less-than-welcoming reply. “We got a chilly reception from some of the other merchants, let me tell you.” She cast a critical glance toward the Tea Room. “You’d have thought we murdered Mr. Simmons, instead of just buying the deli from him.”
“I can’t believe he finally decided to retire. He was as crusty as his sub rolls.” Kate chuckled. “I bet he wanted you to promise never to put mayonnaise on an Italian sub, didn’t he?”
Diane’s eyes widened. “Yes, he did!”
“He called it a sacrilege whenever I ordered one for Mom.”
“Well, I waited on your mother more times than I can count, and I never once deprived her of her mayonnaise,” the other woman replied. “How’s she doing down there in sunny Florida, anyway? We sure do miss her at the Bunko Club.”
Kate’s eyes widened. They missed her? At the Bunko Club? And what the hell was a Bunko Club? “I didn’t realize you knew her.”
Diane snorted. “Darlin’, you’ve been gone a long time if you’ve forgotten that everyone knows everyone here. Edie was the first one at my door with a homemade apple pie when me and Will moved into the apartment above the deli. She’s a real doll.”
From behind Diane, Kate heard another voice. “Edie? You bet your life she is. Although, it sure was a nightmare getting her raggedy nails fixed all up. The woman worked too hard!”
Kate looked past Diane to see the young woman she’d met her first day in town. The friendly one from the nail salon. She looked different—her hair now being purple instead of a reddish orange. And the number of earrings had increased. But the welcoming grin was the same.
“Hi, again,” Kate offered, unable to resist the smile.
“I sure never expected to see you here washing windows. Get in there and get some gloves on before you ruin that manicure.”
Kate glanced down at her hands.
“On second thought, don’t. Come by my shop after you’re done and we’ll fix you right up. And we’ll have a long gab. Okay?”
“This is Josie,” Diane interjected. “Don’t make any p-ssycat jokes or she’ll use too much glue on your acrylics then refuse to fill ’em. You’ll have to pry them off with a crowbar.”
Josie stuck her tongue out at the other woman, then turned her attention to Kate. “And you’re Kate Jones. Edie’s long-lost, super-successful daughter, cousin of the supermodel who has Sheriff Taggart going around in circles.”
She talked so fast Kate had a hard time keeping up.
“Oh, really?”
Diane nodded. “His ex-girlfriend, Annie—she’s the dispatcher—says Tag starts acting like a grizzly bear with a burr in his butt whenever he has a run-in with your cousin.”
He hadn’t looked like a grizzly Saturday night when he’d come to the shop at 1:00 a.m. No, he’d looked more like a panther. Dark and dangerous. She hoped Cassie knew what she was doing.
“Uh, can I ask a stupid question?”
“Anything,” Diane replied.
“What’s Bunko?”
The other woman linked her arm in Kate’s. “You’ve never played Bunko? It’s the woman’s version of poker night. The Lilac Hill types have their bridge club. We prefer Bunko. A dice game, rotated among the homes of the club members. Twice a month we meet to talk, laugh and play. The hostess provides the prizes.”
“The members provide the bourbon,” Josie added helpfully.
Kate laughed out loud. “Sounds like fun.” Surprisingly, she meant it. She could see how her mother would have enjoyed something so simple yet charming.
“Then it’s settled, you come to our next game, which happens to be tomorrow night at Eileen Saginaw’s house.”
Kate’s smile widened in genuine pleasure. “Eileen is my mom’s best friend. I’d love to see her again.”
And as easy as that, Kate found herself committed to a social event with some of the women of Pleasantville.
What is wrong with this picture?
“Now, tell us what you’re going to sell in your store,” Diane said. “Pretty please? Nobody knows anything more than it’s a ladies’ shop, and everybody’s going crazy trying to find out.”
Kate bit her lip. These two were the nicest people she’d met so far in Pleasantville, but that didn’t mean they were going to welcome sex toys on the main drag of town.
“It’s gotta be something good,” Josie said. “Tell me it’s real shoes. Real, decent shoes that don’t have rubber soles and plastic uppers. If you say you’re gonna carry Dr. Martens I’ll get down on the ground and kiss your toes. And I’ll give you a free pedicure while I’m down there.”
Kate shook her head. “Sorry. Not shoes.”
“Clothes. Oh, please let it be clothes,” Diane said. “The closest store to buy a decent dress is twenty miles away. And that’s not even one of those new super Wal-Marts, it’s just a plain old regular one.”
Kate bit her lip and shook her head at Diane’s genuine consternation. “Sorry. Not clothes.” Not unless you counted crotchless panties and leather bustiers!
Josie bounced on the toes of her chunky black boots like a kid waiting in line for Santa. “Then what?”
“You’ll have to wait until our grand opening to find out.”
“Grand opening?”
She recognized that voice. Wincing, Kate turned around to see Jack standing right behind her. The man was quiet as a cat—she’d never even heard him approaching.
Obviously neither had the other two women. Because she felt sure she’d have noticed those matching holy-cannoli-take-me-big-boy looks on their faces.
“Hi, Jack,” she murmured. Her voice didn’t even shake. Amazing, since her heart had started racing like an out of control freight train speeding toward heartbreak junction.
The man was too handsome. His smile too adorably sexy to be real, the twinkle in his brilliant green eyes too charming. He made women want to hug him. Then do him. Including Kate. Especially Kate.
Diane and Josie spoke in unison. “Introduce us.”
After she’d made introductions all the way around, and listened to Josie and Diane pump Jack for information about why on earth he’d waited so long to come back for a visit to Pleasantville, she tried to slide away. Evening was approaching, though it was still light out. She wanted to get inside and lock up. Mainly she wanted to get away before Jack started asking any more questions about her store.
Just when she thought she might make a clean getaway, however, an old, beige Cadillac pulled up on the street and parked one building down, in front of the Tea Room.
“Great,” Jack muttered. “It’s my ex-brother-in-law.”
“Which one?” Josie said under her breath, her voice holding a definite note of sarcasm. Obviously she knew Angela.
As Kate watched the man emerge from the Cadillac, she answered softly, “Darren.”