“So how does Kalli fit?” I ask.
“Hmm?” Lennox tilts her head to the side, and her eyes are a little unfocused.
“Kalli. You guys are all artists of one kind or another, so what is she?”
Lennox frowns. “Kalli is … She’s not an artist. Not really. But she’s incredibly knowledgeable about it all, so she fits right in. She can talk building stuff with Mick and clothes with me and art with Jack. She’s just one of those people who is an incredibly good sounding board, you know? She’s only been hanging out with us for about a month and half, but everyone really loves her. Jack even painted her. Between you and me, I’m pretty sure he would give his left testicle to be with her, but she hasn’t really showed much interest so far.”
My eyes flick to Jack, and I try not to tense, but even drunk, Lennox picks up on my reaction. “Relax, Dazzler,” she says, laughing. “I asked her about you after you left, you know. She blushed. It’s the most reaction I’ve ever seen out of her with a guy. And believe me, she gets hit on … a lot.”
I scowl. She’s fucking gorgeous. So, it’s not like I thought there wouldn’t be any competition, but Jesus. Lennox laughs again. “Well, this is a fun game.” I turn my glare on her. “She wouldn’t answer any of my questions about you. She said it was nothing, but I’m pretty good at reading people. The look she had after you left? Totally not nothing.”
My eyes skip back to Jack. He’s good looking, especially with all that hair of his. “He really painted her?” I ask.
“Oh yeah. It’s good, too.”
Damn.
“She’s in the kitchen,” Lennox says. “If you want to get to dazzling.”
She points the way, and I don’t care how transparent I am as I move immediately in that direction. She grins and whispers, “Good luck,” at my back.
And I need it. I need it so fucking bad.
Because as I step through the entry, I see Kalli leaning against a carved wooden island. Her eyes are closed, and she has an empty wine glass pressed against her full lips. For a moment, I just take her in. She wears dark jeans that hug the smooth shape of her thighs. A gray sweater clings to her waist and breasts, and she looks effortlessly beautiful. Stunning in a way that’s hard to put into words, but I feel it like a punch to the gut. Her chest rises on an inhale, and I find myself breathing in tandem.
She exhales, and I take a step farther into the kitchen. The floor creaks, and her eyes pop open. They land on me, and as her expression morphs into shock, the glass slips right out of her hand and shatters at her feet.
Chapter Twelve
I notice she's barefoot a second after the glass breaks, and I move on instinct. I reach her in two long strides, wrap an arm around her waist, and lift her off the ground. I settle her on top of the island counter before glancing down to make sure she hasn't been cut.
The light reflects off a few tiny shards along the top of her foot, and near one is a tiny dot of blood.
“Stay there,” I order, before crossing to the sink. I grab a paper towel, fold it into quarters, and then turn on the faucet just enough to dampen it. I cross back to her, and the glass crunches beneath my boots.
I cup my hand around her heel, and lift the foot up where I can see it better under the light. I don't want to drag the towel across it because if there are any little slivers of glass, they could still cut her. So I bend over and carefully blow along the top of her foot to remove any debris.
She sucks in a breath above me, and grabs my shoulder at the same time that I wipe at the tiny knick.
I look up, wondering how that possibly could have hurt her, but that thought flees as I take in her expression. She's gripping the edge of the counter hard, and her mouth is open, frozen on an inhale. And her eyes are on me, and … damn. This is what I had hoped to see when I ran into her in that shop. She's looking at me the way she had in my shower, moments before it stopped being playful and started being about how quickly I could get my hands on her skin.
My hand is still holding her foot, and I can't stop myself from sliding my fingers up, over her ankle to the smooth skin of her calf. Her chin tilts up, and she watches me through hooded eyes. She’s tense, waiting to see what I’ll do, and my mind is bursting with thoughts and ideas of how to touch her.
Lennox chooses that moment to barrel into the kitchen.
“What the hell is going on? I thought I heard—”
She trails off, and even though I can't bring myself to look at her, Kalli does, and she immediately shifts, pulling her leg away from my touch.
“Shit,” Lennox says. “I'm an idiot. Don't mind me. Carry on. Pretend I was never here.”
But there's no pretending that. Not anymore. Kalli won't meet my eyes, not even as she loosens her grip on my shoulder, and pushes me away instead.
“I'm so sorry about the glass, Len. Do you have a broom? I'll clean it up.”
She moves as if to slide off the counter, and I drop my hand down to her hip. “Stay. I'll get it.” She starts to complain, and I add, “You’re barefoot. I’ve got it.”
Lennox opens a pantry door next to her, and I cross to pick up the broom and dustpan she offers.
“Since when did dazzling involve breaking things?” she asks, and I glower.
“Right. Right. As you were.”
She slips out of the kitchen without another word, and I return to my spot in front of Kalli. I place the dustpan on the counter beside her, and then proceed to sweep up the glass. As I do, I allow myself one quick glance up at her.
“What is it with you and being barefoot?” I ask.
She crosses her arms over her chest in a defensive gesture, and it makes me smile.
Rather than answer, she turns it around on me. “What are you doing here?”
“Lennox invited me. She thinks I’m dazzling. Her words. Not mine.”
“She just invited you? Out of the blue?”
“When you were avoiding me the other day, yeah.”
“I wasn’t avoiding you. I just—”
“Ran into the dressing room to get away? You seem to have a habit of doing that kind of thing.” I finish sweeping the glass into a pile, and straighten up to grab the dustpan. It brings me close enough that her knees graze my abdomen, and we both freeze at the touch. Something that small shouldn’t be so powerful, but I swear there’s this pull between us, and every time I touch her, every time I even look at her, it gets stronger. Like she’s an ocean tide, and I’m caught up in her current. And there’s no point in fighting my way to the surface because I don’t know which way is up or down. I don’t know anything except that I want her.
Before I sweep up the last of the glass, I take hold of her other foot, checking it for shards. I don’t see any, but I keep checking just because I’m reluctant to let her go. I’m too afraid she’ll run from me again. But I do release her. And then I bend to sweep up my pile of glass.
“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice so soft I almost can’t make it out.
“Accidents happen. And Lennox didn’t seem all that worried about the glass.”
“I don’t mean that.”
I straighten, but she’s looking down at her hands. She’s got long, elegant fingers, and I watch her tangle them together for a moment. I cross to the pantry where Lennox had gotten the broom. There’s a trashcan in there, so I empty the glass and stow the items away when I’m done.
I stay where I am and face Kalli. “What are you sorry about then?”
Maybe I’m a dick for making her say it. But I had to wake up to the empty bed. I had to lay there and curse myself for not touching her just a little longer, tasting just a little bit more. If I had to do that, she can sure as hell say it.
“We weren’t supposed to see each other again.”
“So, if we hadn’t run into each other the other day, you wouldn’t be sorry?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“So you are sorry?”
She nods.
“Then jus
t tell me straight. Why did you leave?”
She rubs her hands over her eyes, and then pushes her fingers into the hair at her temples. “I don’t normally do that sort of thing. In fact, I never do that sort of thing. But I was dealing with some things, and I just needed …”
She trails off, and I move toward her. I don’t go as close as I want to, leaning instead against the corner of the island.
“What did you need?”
My control is barely leashed, and if she gives me any indication at all that she still needs something …
Her head stays bowed, but her eyes lift to mine. Framed by dark lashes, the look she gives me isn’t the heat I hoped for. It’s vulnerable. Lost, maybe.
“I needed to not be alone. I needed someone to lean on just for a night.”
The urge to take her in my arms is so strong I’m surprised I don’t buckle under it. Her emotions are so clear, so open, and yet she’s still a mystery. Her gaze might ask for help, but her body language is a clear roadblock.
“Did it help?”
“Yes.” She gives me a small smile, but her hands are clenched tight in her lap.
“Liar.”
“Excuse me?”
“It didn’t help.” A fleeting expression of panic crosses her face. “Or at least it didn’t help for long.”
She braces herself on the counter as if she’s about to slide off, but I step in front of her. “Wait. Don’t run again.”
“I’m not …” Her protest dies as our eyes meet. I don’t have to call her a liar again. I can see the admission in her face. She was sure as hell about to run.
“Let’s just start over,” I suggest. “That night was out of the ordinary for both of us. So let’s turn the page. Do this the normal way.”
She frowns. “I don’t do normal very well either.”
“Fine. Normal is overrated anyway. Let’s just not put this in a box at all. We’ll take it one moment at a time, starting with me telling you Merry Christmas.” I brace a hand on the counter beside her, close enough to tease us both with the nearness. “Merry Christmas, Kalli. It’s good to see you again. Do you want another glass of wine? I promise not to surprise you this time.”
She glances toward the door, but she doesn’t make any movement to leave. “I really should go.”
I pause for a few seconds, waiting to see if she’ll do just that. She doesn’t.
“But you don’t want to … do you?” Her pursed lips are the only answer I get. “So stay. One moment at a time. That’s all it has to be,” I tell her. “There goes one. And another. Look at that … nothing disastrous has happened yet.”
She gives a reluctant smile, and when I pick up a new wineglass from the counter and hold it up, she nods. “Just a little.”
I snag a bottle of already open red wine, and pour a little for her. When she reaches out to take it, I ask, “So you’re pretty cautious, huh? Normally.”
I can’t quite decipher her expression as she answers, “Not nearly as cautious as I should be.”
“You and your mystery. If you’re trying to run me off, you’re doing it wrong. I enjoy a puzzle.”
“I am not a puzzle you want to figure out, Wilder.”
“Sorry, I forgot everything else you said once you used my name.”
She sighs, but it’s more playful than genuinely frustrated, and I think I might have finally cracked her. A little anyway.
“So tell me about your friends. They seem like an interesting group. How long have you known them?”
“Not long.”
“One of these days, I’m going to figure out how to get real answers out of you.”
“How’s Gwen?”
“Changing the subject on me.”
“No, you said to start fresh. This is me starting fresh.”
Baby steps.
I shift and lean back against the counter next to her and try not to think about the scant inch between my hip and her thigh.
“She’s good. I did Christmas stuff with her and my mother all day.”
“How was that?” She seems genuinely interested, and I wonder about her family. She’d said that she had sisters, but they were estranged. How long has it been since she’s seen them? Since she’s spent a holiday with them?
“It was pretty good. A little too much tea party for my taste, but I survived.”
She laughs, and I vow to hear that sound as much as possible tonight. “She played with all her new toys for about half an hour each before she lost interest. She ended the night playing with an old hand-me-down toy of mine. I’m not sure why we bother. We could probably just wrap up toys she already has, and she’d be just fine as long as she still got to open the presents.”
“Maybe she liked the old toy because it was yours.”
“Doubtful.”
“Come on. She practically worships you.”
I choke on a laugh. “If you’d seen the fit she threw the other day when I didn’t let her have candy, I guarantee you would think differently.”
“Kids throw fits. It doesn’t matter who’s with them.”
“I’m willing to bet she wouldn’t throw one with you.”
“That’s not fair.”
“What? You don’t count as a normal person? The rules of children throwing fits don’t apply to you?”
Her smile falters just for a moment before she jumps right back into the conversation. “ I just mean … I’m new and different. Once she got used to me, I’m sure she wouldn’t treat me any differently.”
“There’s a way to test that theory, you know.”
She shakes her head and raises her eyebrows in what’s probably a reprimand. It doesn’t do any good though because I like her eyes on me, whatever the reason.
She continues, “All I’m saying is that I’ve seen you two together. That day in the grocery store with the magazine—”
“Oh God. Don’t bring that up. Not my favorite moment … having to explain to her in the car why that particular magazine wasn’t for kids.” I groan.
“She just wanted to be like you. You were reading a magazine, and she wanted one too.”
“Yes, well, I’ve officially given up reading magazines.”
She’s still smiling when she lifts her wine glass to her mouth, and watching her lips part over the rim is definitely one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.
“So how did you meet Lennox?”
She tilts her head, as if considering her answer. “Well, I met Jack first.”
Damn. I wish I could rewind and un-ask that question. But clearly I’m a masochist. “How did you meet him?”
“At an art exhibit on campus.”
I can’t resist the urge to pry for more details. “And when was that?”
Her forefinger taps at her wineglass, and she seems almost nervous. Maybe Lennox was wrong. Maybe Jack has a better shot than she thinks. “About six weeks ago, I think.”
So right after her night with me. Fuck. Fuck.
“He introduced me to Lennox and Avery, and something just kind of clicked. I’ve never had a group of friends like them before, but … I think it’s working.”
“Working? What do you mean by that?”
“Um, well …”
She takes a larger gulp of wine, and after a prolonged swallow (that does nothing for my attempts to keep my eyes off her mouth), she shrugs. “I mean that it’s good, I guess. I usually have just one … close friend. But they’re this tight knit group with all these personalities and talents, and they welcomed me in without any hesitation, and it’s … good.”
I don’t get how someone like her isn’t surrounded by people all the time. She’s vibrant and interesting, and surely it can’t be only me that she has this effect on.
“Well, I’m glad you found them then.”
Maybe I’m imagining it or seeing what I want to see, but her eyes track down to my mouth for just a moment.
“Me too.”
Silence settles between us, but I’m still w
atching her, and she’s watching me. And there goes that pull again. I shift a little closer so that her thigh touches my hip, and I feel the barest pressure as she returns the contact, accepts it.
“I have a confession to make.”
She asks, “A confession?”
I nod, and then go all in. “I don’t think I’m going to be very good at this whole fresh start thing.” I try to gauge her response, but her expression doesn’t change. Curious. Maybe a little wary. It’s the curious part that I focus on. “I’m trying really hard to pretend that I don’t know what it’s like to kiss you, but I don’t see myself forgetting that anytime soon.”
Chapter Thirteen
She’s warring with herself. I can tell. And I just wish I knew what has her keeping her walls so high. I’ll take them down piece by piece if I have to.
“Wilder. I—”
“Tell me you remember how good it was. I’m not imagining that, am I? I get that you don’t do hook-ups, and that seeing me again is a reminder of that, but you don’t just throw a connection like that away because the timeline is wrong.”
“It’s not about that timeline.”
“Then tell me what it is. I want you. You want me. I’m not giving that up without a fight.”
“I’m not good for you.”
“First of all, bullshit. And second, what about what’s good for you? You’re in here alone while your friends are out there talking and laughing and drinking. You find someone you have mind-blowing chemistry with, and rather than seeing where it goes, you cut it off before it even gets started. Something happens in your life that throws you so off-kilter that you seek out comfort from a stranger. I don’t know what that is. I don’t know why. But I know you deserve more than one night. I know you deserve to laugh with your friends, not stand on the sidelines.” I brace one hand on the counter beside her and lift the other to curve around her cheek. At my touch, her eyes flutter closed, and she exhales so strongly that I wonder how long she’s been holding her breath. “Stop telling yourself what you can’t have or shouldn’t have. You deserve more, Kalli.”
I throw my patience out the window, and bend to touch my mouth to hers. It’s just a light touch, but it causes a tug of desire at the base of my spine all the same. She doesn’t quite kiss me back, but her lips part, and I can feel the puff of her breath against my mouth, sharp and uncontrolled. I remember how much she liked it when I told her what I wanted to do to her, so I take a chance and push things a little further. I grab hold of her knees, and gently pull her legs apart. She gasps, and her eyes pop open, but she doesn’t move away. Our faces are an inch apart, eyes locked together as I settle between her thighs.