That was a yes on more than tomorrow, but she knew better than to say so. “Yes, it was.”
“Good to know.” Opening his hand to caress her cheek, Kendall brushed his nose across hers. “Your place or mine?”
Flattening her palms against his chest, she replied, “For what?”
His lips brushed hers, stealing her ability to think. “Tomorrow night.”
“Oh.” Liza tried to form a coherent answer, but when strong hands cupped her bottom, she tugged on his belt loops, urging him closer as her lips found the warm flesh beneath his ear.
Kendall lifted her high, pressing her back against the door, and on instinct, she locked her legs around his hips to grind against his erection.
Before she knew it, Liza had unbuttoned his shirt to trace her tongue down his neck. Her hands explored the dark fur dotting his chest, and she imagined how it would feel against her bare breasts. Muscled arms braced against the door behind her, Kendall let her have her way until his every muscle pulled tight with restraint.
“Baby, I can’t take much more.”
The strain in his voice brought Liza to her senses. “I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her legs to the floor. “I got carried away.”
He drew in a harsh breath, shaking his head. “You can get carried away anytime, but if we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to walk down those stairs.”
Liza refastened the buttons. “I’m not feeling so steady myself.”
Kendall tipped her chin up, and the care in his eyes touched something deep in her chest. “Tomorrow,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on the end of her nose.
Her heartbeat quickened as Liza began to wonder if she’d made a gross miscalculation. She knew she was leaving, and so did he. So what were they doing starting something that was destined to end?
Ray’s words came back to her. Stole my heart, right then and there.
Liza lowered her head, and Kendall tensed, as if feeling her withdrawal. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, offering what she hoped was a convincing smile. “I am, but I think I’d better go in now.” Liza needed to think, and she couldn’t do so objectively with Kendall standing so temptingly near.
Warm breath rustled her curls as he sighed. “Yeah. Okay. I should go let Larimore know we’re back anyway. Tomorrow, then?”
“Yes. Tomorrow.”
Feeling as if she’d been cracked wide open, Liza watched Kendall make his way down the stairs and wave from the cart before driving around to the front of the house. After racing down to retrieve her forgotten sandals, she made her way inside as a reckless idea crept in.
Did she really have to leave?
Dropping to the sofa, she stared at the shoes in her hand, contemplating the answer. In New York was her father. The man she’d barely begun to know, who most days still felt like a stranger. There was also Vanessa and Granny’s little apartment.
Granny’s apartment. Not hers. The place had never truly felt like Liza’s.
In New York, there was noise and pressure and . . . loneliness. A reality she rarely acknowledged, convinced that in time the feeling would fade. If she just waited long enough, her life would magically change.
Maybe that change had come in the form of an extraordinary little island.
Hopping to her feet, she rushed into the bedroom. Casting the sandals aside, she surveyed the options in her closet. Within minutes, a handful of dresses lay in a heap on the bed, each dismissed for one reason or another.
And then she spotted it. The dress she almost hadn’t packed. Shorter and tighter than all the others, the simple sleeveless white sheath fit her body like a glove. Large blue-and-purple flowers blossomed across the bottom, accentuating the thigh-revealing scalloped hem.
Flipping the garment around, she remembered the day she’d tried it on. Due to the low positioning of the zipper, the dress left Liza’s entire back exposed, turning her into a sex kitten she hadn’t recognized in the mirror. But then Vanessa had looked up from her phone, gasped with approval, and refused to let Liza leave the store without it.
Carefully returning the dress to the closet, Liza took a deep breath, both frightened and exhilarated at the idea of spending the night with Kendall. Though he hadn’t in any way implied that sex was an expected part of their date, she doubted he’d turn her down if she offered.
Shifting her glance to the dress-covered bed behind her, there was no question where the date would take place. Having sex with Kendall one floor above Ray was not going to happen. But then there was once again the issue of leaving Ray alone.
Liza checked the clock. A call to Francine would have to wait until morning. With luck, her new friend would be nice enough to play babysitter, though Ray would undoubtedly argue that he didn’t need one.
Chapter 17
“I’ve got good news and better news,” said Larimore when Kendall answered his phone, still groggy from a restless night.
He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he couldn’t walk down the stairs. The drive home had been painful at best, and the lukewarm shower he’d taken before bed hadn’t offered much relief. Lying awake, he’d replayed the night over and over in his mind, unable to decipher exactly what had shifted at the end.
“What time is it?” he asked, sitting up to lean against his headboard.
“An hour past time for your morning jog. Are you sick?”
Kendall didn’t figure sexually frustrated fit in the same category as the common cold. As he checked the exact time on his phone, Amos bounded into the room and leaped on the bed, all his weight landing on an important part of his owner’s anatomy.
“Jesus, dog. Watch what you’re doing.”
“Skipped your run and you’re cranky. Someone didn’t get laid last night.”
“Hey,” he snapped. “Not cool, dude.”
Larimore took the reprimand in stride. “Crass on my part. Apologies. Now for the good news. We have a second offer on the house.”
Lifting the hair from his eyes, Kendall lumbered to the back door to let Amos out. “How could we have a second offer when the place isn’t even on the market?”
“The private-island business is hopping, buddy. But that’s only the good news.”
Aware of his friend’s love of the dramatic, Kendall followed his cue. “What’s the better news?”
“The second offer is a quarter million higher than the first one.”
Good thing Kendall hadn’t been standing far from the table. Falling into a chair, he did the math in his head. “That’s crazy money.”
The happy agent laughed. “Crazy good. I’m going to see if the first couple is willing to compete, but I wanted to update you first. You’re about to be a whole lot richer, my friend.”
Kendall didn’t care much about money, but he’d also never been handed two million dollars all at once.
“Keep me posted.”
“Will do.”
The phone went dead as Kendall watched his dog toss a rubber dog toy into the air. The toy snapped in two, and Amos nudged both pieces with his nose, as if unsure which one to toss again.
“Don’t worry, buddy. We can buy you another one.”
Dropping the cell on the table, he crossed to the sink to start the coffee. He didn’t drink the stuff daily, but today he needed the hit of caffeine. Before the pot could percolate, the phone buzzed on the table.
“That was fast.” Assuming the first couple had backed out of the deal, Kendall picked up without checking the screen. “So we’re down to one.”
“One what?” replied a voice Kendall hadn’t heard in months. “Is that how you answer a phone, young man?” Aunt Clarice was an advanced-level ballbuster, and she never missed an opportunity to bust his.
“Sorry. I thought you were someone else.” Unlike with his friend, Kendall didn’t feel comfortable talking to his mother’s baby sister while wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. “Can you hold on a minute?”
“I’m only calling long distance from N
ew York City. Sure. Put me on hold.”
Kendall looked around for a quick fix. Returning to the table, he sat down and draped a kitchen towel over his lap.
“Never mind. How are you doing?”
“Better than your poor mother, and that’s why I’m calling.”
He bolted from the chair, ignoring the discarded towel. “What’s wrong?”
“Relax, son. She’s okay. For now.”
These cryptic responses were getting him nowhere. “Clarice, tell me what’s going on.”
The older woman mumbled for her dogs to be quiet before returning to the call. “She had some sort of episode while playing cards. The other ladies thought she was having a heart attack and called 911. Thankfully, there was no heart attack, but the doctors found a murmur.”
Again, Kendall sat. “What does that mean?”
“We don’t know yet. She sees a cardiologist on Monday.”
“When did this happen?”
“Last night. And if you called your mother more often, you’d know what night she plays cards.”
Kendall wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. “Where is she now?”
Clarice didn’t answer right away. “They’re keeping her in the hospital to run tests over the weekend. I asked if she wanted me to call last night, but she said not to bother you.”
Damn stubborn woman. “You should have called.”
“Well, I’m calling now.” Never one to mince words, Clarice laid out her true feelings. “My sister gave up her home for whatever is so important on that godforsaken island. I don’t know what you do down there, but it’s a crying shame when a mother doesn’t see the need in letting her own son know she’s sick.”
The line clicked dead, and Kendall pressed the phone against his forehead. He was not neglecting his mother, dammit. They talked every Sunday, and at the end of every conversation, he asked if she needed anything. And like following a script, she assured him that she was fine and didn’t need a thing.
Now he had to wonder how often that response had been a lie.
Amos scratched at the back door, jarring Kendall back to the present. Moving more from habit than conscious effort, he let the dog in, shut off the coffeepot, and fired off a text to his aunt asking for the name of the hospital. No response came.
Rubbing a hand over his face, he carried the phone to the bedroom, hoping he’d have an answer by the time he finished his shower.
By Saturday morning, Ray appeared to have made a full recovery. Liza had slept like a baby and woke early, ready for breakfast. An empty milk jug sent her tiptoeing downstairs to fill her bowl, only to find her host dressed and soft-shoeing his way around the kitchen.
“You’re looking much better today,” she said.
“I feel better, too.” He touched his hat brim in greeting. “You’ve got a pretty glow about you this morning, Liza Ruth. Does that mean dinner went well?”
“Dinner went very well, thank you.” Remembering Ray had retired to the bedroom before Kendall had invited her to dinner, she asked, “How do you know about that?”
“Larimore,” Ray replied, retrieving the eggs from the fridge.
Then Ray hadn’t slept through the evening. That was a good sign. Setting her bowl on the island, Liza leaned her elbows on the smooth surface. “How’s your head?”
“Oh, that’s fine,” Ray said, cracking eggs into a bowl. “Did I tell you about the time I had crepes at a lovely little café in Paris?”
He’d conveyed the story the day before. “We talked about that yesterday, remember?”
Bushy gray brows furrowed for only a second before he said, “That’s right. No wonder I woke up craving them.” With a flick of his wrist, he tossed a broken shell into the trash. “I’ve still got it.”
Ray must have been such a fun dad. When Liza had asked if he had children, she’d learned that he had one son, but the two were estranged. She’d expressed hope they might resolve their differences, but Ray had been certain there was no chance of a reconciliation. Hopefully, he was wrong about that.
She watched him crack five more eggs and marveled at his renewed appetite. His impressive recovery eased her mind about leaving him for the evening. In fact, she decided she wouldn’t mind having the day to relax and do a little primping before her date.
Since many of Ray’s neighbors came to the island only on weekends, there was the possibility he might take the day off from their interviews in order to entertain.
“Is anyone coming over today?” she asked.
He drew a whisk from the utensil holder beside the stove. “Didn’t I tell you?”
“Tell me what?” she asked.
“Jack and Wilma Forester are coming for breakfast. They’ll be here any minute.”
Liza rose off the stool. “No, you didn’t tell me. Why didn’t you warn me when I came down in my pajamas?”
He took in her outfit. “You look fine.”
She looked like she’d just gotten out of bed, which she had.
When Liza darted from the kitchen, Ray called after her. “Where are you going?”
“To get dressed,” she replied from halfway up the stairs. “I haven’t even brushed my teeth!”
Hustling through the house, she stubbed her toe on an accent table and nearly fell into the screen door leading to her apartment. Hopping into her kitchen on one foot, Liza knocked the empty milk jug off the counter, spilling what little was left across the floor.
“For heaven’s sake.” Keeping her injured toe off the ground, she hobbled to the paper towels and yanked, bringing the entire roll off the dispenser. The towels unraveled into the living room, her pinkie-toe throbbed, and her nose still hurt from where she’d smacked the door.
This kind of start to the day did not bode well for her evening.
Liza dropped to the hardwood, ripped off two paper towels, and wiped up the milk. Once the mess had been cleaned, she lay back, hoping that a brief pause would reset her world. Eyes closed, she breathed deeply, letting the pain in her foot subside and praying that things would only improve from here.
Kendall’s day did not get any better.
The call with his mom ended the same way every other conversation did—son offering to help, and mother insisting that she didn’t need it. When he offered to fly up in time for the cardiologist appointment on Monday, she argued that he shouldn’t spend the money. When Kendall pressed, assuring her he could afford the flight, she implied that he would only be in the way.
Sometimes he preferred Clarice’s more direct approach to his mother’s brush-offs.
Exhausted, Kendall gave up, but he sent his aunt a text to call him the minute they spoke to the doctor. If the news was bad, he’d catch the first flight out of Charleston whether his mother liked it or not.
Following the downhill trend, his dryer stopped drying, Amos busted a lamp while chasing his own tail, and Kendall nearly had a heart attack of his own when a wayward bird slammed into his sliding glass door. The carnage had been especially gruesome, making the cleanup an experience he’d be happy never to repeat.
The one positive had been his call to Liza.
“Hello?” she answered, her voice alone brightening his day.
“Hey. It’s Kendall.”
“Oh, hi.”
He’d hoped for more enthusiasm after last night. “How is Ray?”
“Better,” she said. “I found him dancing around the kitchen this morning.”
“Dancing?” He hadn’t even been able to stand on his own not twenty-four hours ago.
“I was surprised, too, but he was like a new man. Bright-eyed and whipping up breakfast for the Foresters.”
“Jack and Wilma are here?”
“I think that’s what he called them. Then a Mr. Drummand came for lunch, and he’s hosting someone else this evening, but I forget the name.” Liza’s tone was clipped, as if Kendall were bothering her. He was about to let her go when she said, “Dang it.”
“Are you okay?”
A sigh carried down the line. “Not really. Have you ever had a day when everything went wrong?”
Funny she should ask. “I can relate to that, yeah.”
“At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if a meteor took me out. The headline would read ‘Extreme Klutz Dies of Bad Luck.’”
Kendall smiled for the first time that day. “How about we skip the meteor and I make you dinner?”
“You cook?” she asked, sounding as if he’d said he could fly. At least he’d finally earned her full attention.
“I’m a thirty-four-year-old bachelor. Of course I cook.”
Sufficiently contrite, Liza said, “I guess I shouldn’t assume that all men live on frozen dinners and takeout.”
“Takeout is hard to come by around here.”
“Good point.” Papers rustled on the other end. “I’m organizing some notes while Ray prepares for his guest—or will be when I get this recorder to work—but I can set them aside whenever. What time should I come over?”
He checked the clock on the stove. “How about forty-five minutes?” That gave him enough time to marinate the shrimp and get the pasta on to cook.
“From now?” she squeaked.
Good thing he hadn’t gone with his first thought and said right away. “Too soon?”
“Um . . . no. Forty-five minutes is fine.” More rustling ensued before he heard a thud.
“What was that?”
“I dropped my laptop.” Sounding hurried, she said, “I need to jump in the shower if I’m going to be there in less than an hour.”
“No rush. Come over when you’re ready.” He supposed it couldn’t hurt to drop the pasta once she got there. Cooking with her might be even better than cooking for her. More time for a proper hello that way.
“No, no. I can do this.” Another thud. “Son of a—”
Kendall had never heard Liza use language like that. “Are you trying to kill that computer?”
“That was my bag,” she said, clearly spoken through clenched teeth. “Who needs ten working toes anyway, right?”
Next time he’d let her pick the time. “I’ll have an ice pack ready when you get here.”
“Thanks. I’m going to need it.”
Ask me to Stay Page 16
