by Skye Jordan
KT’s still working on tearing up the lettuce for the salad. “I’ve never seen anyone move so fast in the kitchen.”
“It’s all in the prep.” I pull a loaf of sourdough from the fridge for garlic bread. “I use my days off to get ninety percent of dinner prepped for the coming week. Tell me about your day.”
“It was so exciting,” she says with mock enthusiasm. “All things mechanical and a break to work out. Scintillating, I tell you.”
“Where do you work out?”
“The shop. I have all my weights and mats set up in there.”
I think back. “I didn’t see them.”
She gets that hot little grin. “We were a little busy.” She finishes with the lettuce and starts cutting the tomato. “But with the work I do, it’s a necessary evil. What happened for you today?”
“It seemed like kid day—baby projectile vomiting, boy with a bump the size of an egg on his head, little girl with croup, another boy who needed a few stitches. That kind of stuff.”
She nods. “So tell me about your babysitter.”
That seems like an odd subject shift. “Isabel?” I shrug. “She’s a girl my sister found when I first got to town. I have a service looking for a nanny, but my schedule makes it hard to find a good fit. My mom and sister help out when they can, and Jackie said she was going to keep an eye out for another potential backup babysitter.”
KT nods but doesn’t comment.
“Why?” I wrap the bread in foil and set it on the stove to pop in when the lasagna is almost done.
KT sighs. “Nothing. Just wondering.”
“It’s something,” I say, pleased I’m able to read her even this little bit after knowing her such a short time.
Her gaze flicks to mine, then back to the tomatoes. She takes the cut pieces between her hand and the knife and drops them in the bowl, then starts on the cucumber. “It’s not my place—”
“KT.” When she looks at me again, I say, “If it involves the girls, I want to know about it.”
Still, she hesitates. “It’s just…when I came in, she didn’t introduce herself, and she didn’t care who the heck I was or why I was in your house. I know I’m a woman and not exactly threatening, but when I say she didn’t care, I mean she barely pulled her eyes from the phone to glance at me. And unless she was in on Violet’s plan, she had no idea what Violet was doing or how she’d pulled Jazz into it. She didn’t even attempt to clean up, she just let the water spill onto the floor and soak into the carpet. And Poppy and Jazz were watching cartoons with violence and swearing. You don’t strike me as a parent who would allow that.”
I sigh, pulling two wineglasses from one cabinet and a bottle of red wine from another. I knew Isabel was a borderline babysitter, but not quite how borderline.
“They shouldn’t have been watching TV at all. Isabel must turn it off when she hears the garage door open.” I drag a wine opener from the drawer, and I’m half finished opening the wine, worried and annoyed by this news, before I realize I haven’t asked KT her preference. “Is this okay? I have chilled white or beer or juice boxes.”
That makes her laugh. I love seeing her laugh. All the seriousness and caution vanish from her expression, exposing an amazing smile that lights up her face. “Red’s fine. I’m not picky.”
Yeah, I’m getting that from her, and it’s a breath of fresh air.
“I just thought you should know.” KT says. “You might want to invest in a nanny cam, because I heard all her exuberant concern before she left, and that’s not the same person who was watching the girls when I walked in.”
I brace my hands against the counter. “I’ll call the nanny service again in the morning and see if they have any possibilities for me.”
“You work so hard to do your best by them,” she says. “It bugs the shit out of me that you have someone undoing all that hard work behind the scenes, you know?”
I move up behind her again and slide my hands over her shoulders and down her arms before wrapping her in a hug. At her ear, I whisper, “Thank you. It means a lot to me, having their best interest at heart.”
She turns her head, seems to consider me a moment, like she’s going to say something, then just kisses me.
I could too easily get used to this, having someone here when I get home, someone to talk to, cook with, love. I’ve been lonely, sure. Horny, absolutely. Mentally and emotionally exhausted, completely. But I didn’t realize just how empty I’d been feeling until KT came into my life.
She’s a bittersweet surprise, though. Someone who finally makes me want more, but also someone who can’t and won’t fill that need in a committed way. I have to remind myself that I can’t let her drag me under.
I force myself to return to work, setting the table while KT finishes the salad.
“What’s your real name?” I ask. “Katie? Kate?”
She smirks and shakes her head. “Why can’t you accept that my name is KT?”
“It doesn’t make sense. As a nickname, sure, but not as a real name.”
“Daddy.” It’s Jazz, and from her voice, I know she’s sitting about halfway down the stairs. “I’m hungry.”
I sigh. My respite is over. “Girls, you can come down.”
They rumble down the stairs and slide into the kitchen on stocking feet. Jazz and Poppy come to the counter, Violet stands beside KT, smiling up at her with so much admiration, it makes my stomach twist. It’s a good thing, I remind myself. Things between me and KT don’t have to go anywhere to keep the relationship between Violet and KT going. Someday, they’ll have to say goodbye, but Violet will be older, her life more secure with friends and school.
“Violet,” I say. “What do you have to say?”
She curls her hand into KT’s. “I’m sorry I made up the story about the toilet.”
“It was a lie, Violet,” I make sure to point out. “That’s different from a story.”
“I’m sorry I lied. And I’m sorry about the water.”
I turn to Jazz. “And what about you?”
“I’m sorry I lied,” Jazz parrots her sister. “And I’m sorry about the water. Dinner smells so good.”
I smirk at the instant change of subject. “It’ll be done soon. Wash your hands.”
The younger girls scurry off to different bathrooms. Violet is tall enough to use the kitchen sink.
Dinner feels more festive than usual. The girls have someone new to talk to, someone who’s asking all kinds of questions and who loves their answers. Someone who’s really interested. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much, and the girls are glowing in the spotlight of KT’s attention.
“Kay Tee.” Jazz is trying to figure out her name, and I wonder if KT will fess up to my daughter, if not me. Jazz makes the K sound, then the T sound, while she moves a noodle around on her plate, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Cah-tuh. Cahtuh.” Her face lights up and she looks at KT. “Cat.”
KT’s brows rise. “Aren’t you clever?”
When she looks my way, I smile. “Kat. It suits you.”
The girls giggle.
“Can we call you Kat?” Violet asks.
“Sure, why not?” KT says.
This woman has so easily created an entirely new dimension in our lives. A dimension I wish could be permanent—for the girls, for me. Maybe she’s been sent to us as a precursor to something or someone even better. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to imagine someone better.
When dinner is finished, Poppy asks me if we can have a fire. KT insists on cleaning up, and I move into the living room with the girls to work on a puzzle we’ve been putting together. The only way this could get any more perfect would be to have KT in my bed all night. Hell, I’d settle for a few hours.
She wanders into the living room. “I should get going.”
“Help us with the puzzle,” Violet says before I can respond. “You said you like them.”
I suddenly see the method behind Violet’s madness
to start a puzzle a few days ago.
“I do.” she sits on the edge of the sofa beside me.
“I’m going to get a few things to take those stitches out.” I grab the bag where I keep a full medical kit from a drawer in the kitchen and return to the sofa. Kat has already removed the bandaging, and I’m able to pull the stitches out in just a few minutes. I’m relieved to see the wound is well healed. “You’re going to have a bit of a scar.”
“Just one of many.” She smiles at me. “And it’s got a great memory behind it.”
Her phone rings, dragging her gaze from mine. She shifts on the sofa to face the puzzle and answers the call. “Yeah.”
I smile at the masculine edge that seems to touch her mannerisms, her language, even her movements. Knowing it comes from being raised by a single father and working in the male-dominated field of mechanics, I think it shows her ability to be unapologetically herself, which I find unique and sexy.
From where I sit, I hear a deep male voice come through the phone. “Hey, KT, it’s…”
I don’t catch the name, and the trigger spikes me back to the clandestine calls Jana was taking around the time of the affair. I reach for a puzzle piece, trying to distract myself.
“Oh, hey,” she says. “What’s up?” She moves her phone to the other ear and toys with a puzzle piece. “Uh-huh.” A long silence ensues. I hear remnants of the other side of the conversation. “…it’s a 2008 Catalina…” and “…it’s got a new…”
“Sweet ride,” she says. “What do they want for it?” I don’t hear the answer, but she winces and sucks air between her teeth. “Ouch. Yeah, it’s too big for me anyway, but thanks for the heads-up. Keep ’em coming. No, I’m in California through June.”
Yet another reminder she’s not here to stay. My gaze darts around the coffee table, and I find Violet watching Kat, hanging on every word, reminding me of all the reasons to step away from this woman.
“Buzz me…” I hear him say. “Love to get together.”
“You bet.”
She disconnects. “Sorry.”
“Are you looking for a car?” I ask.
“No.” She grins. “A boat.”
“Yeah?” My heart relaxes. “Are you going to keep it here?”
“Good question. I guess that depends on when I find it.” She places another puzzle piece, and the girls approve. “If I find the perfect one before the resort is finished and sold, I’ll have to store it somewhere. If I find it after, I’ll just go straight to it.”
My heart plummets. This roller coaster sucks.
Before I can ask more about the plans for the resort, Violet asks, “Are you going to live on your boat? Like the one you live in now?”
“I am.”
“Are you going to live in it on the lake?” Poppy asks.
“No, it’s a sailboat. They need the wind to help them move, so oceans are better for them.”
“You’re leaving?” Violet asks, brow furrowed. I want all the same answers, yet I don’t. My gut is telling me this woman is the worst kind of heartache. But my heart is so busy looking at Kat with flowers and rainbows, the warning doesn’t stick.
“Eventually,” she says, “but it will be a while. I still have a lot of work to do at the marina.”
“Where will you go?” Violet asks.
“I’m not sure yet. I have a few favorite places, but I’d like to see some places I haven’t been to yet. I’ll make a plan once the time gets closer. For now, I’m happy where I am.”
For now. It’s another blow. I’m beginning to understand why she doesn’t want long-term commitments.
I study Violet’s face to try to figure out how she’s taking this news. She’s still frowning, and because I know her, I see the disappointment in the set of her shoulders.
Right there with you, baby.
“What if you were really happy here?” Violet asks. “Would you stay?”
This draws KT’s complete attention. She smiles and strokes a strand of Violet’s hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry, sweetie, we can still talk. I’ll send you pictures and texts and emails. When you get old enough, like maybe after college, you can come visit me wherever I happen to be.”
Violet’s gaze swings toward me, but she doesn’t ask the Can I? brimming in her eyes. She just refocuses on the puzzle with a newly disinterested air.
“You won’t stay on after the property sells?” I ask.
“Oh, I don’t work there. I’m one of the investors in the renovation—part cash, part skill.”
“So, you’ll take the money you make off the sale and buy a boat?”
“That’s the plan.”
Based on the property values in the area, I imagine that will be quite a windfall. “How did you and the other women meet? Did you go to school together?”
“No. We survived a cyclone together.”
“What?” I say, unsure I heard her right.
“What’s a cyclone?” Poppy asks.
“It’s the same as a hurricane,” she says. “I was on an island in the South Pacific at a spiritual retreat and what was forecast as a tropical storm that should have missed the island turned into a category-five cyclone that jackknifed and rolled directly over us.”
“Man,” I say, “I’d love to hear that story.”
“I was diving when it hit.” She shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “That’s probably the craziest thing that ever happened to me, and I’ve had a lot of crazy things happen to me.”
Her smile dims, and her expression grows thoughtful as she goes on. “I almost died trying to get to shore, but Laiyla”—she looks at the girls—“you know Laiyla at the marina, with the long dark hair? She noticed me missing and braved the storm to help me get to land. And Chloe, the blonde woman, helped me get to safety. The three of us were trapped together in a tiny space for about twelve hours.”
The girls are riveted, and I want to hear every detail of those twelve hours.
But she shrugs and looks at me as she returns to our previous conversation. “I have friends in different parts of the world keeping an eye out for any incredible deals on sailboats for me.”
Of course, I immediately wonder if these “friends” are previous hookups.
“And you don’t have any idea where you’ll go?” I ask. “What are some of your favorite places?”
“Thailand and Vietnam, for sure. They’re just dreamy.” She looks at me. “Ever been?”
“No.”
“Really amazing,” she says with reverence edged in bliss. “Maldives, Bali, Fiji are a given.”
“And here I thought Hawaii and Florida were exotic,” I say, laughing at myself.
“Where are those places?” Violet asks KT.
“In a different part of the world. Do you have a world map or a globe? I can show you.”
Violet looks at me. “Daddy, where’s our globe?”
“In one of our many boxes.”
“Must be tough to move an entire family,” KT says.
“It’s not something I want to do often, that’s for sure.”
KT’s phone rings again. “Jeez, sorry.” She looks at the screen, then answers, “Hey, what’s up?”
Another male voice comes over the line. A different one from the other call. “Uh-huh. Okay. Yeah, sure.”
She disconnects and reaches out to place the puzzle piece, which falls in effortlessly. “That’s going to be my contribution to the puzzle, ladies. I can’t stay.” She turns a smile on me. “Laiyla and Chloe want to have a business meeting over drinks.”
But that wasn’t Laiyla or Chloe on the phone. I guess it could have been Levi, Laiyla’s fiancé. Regardless, that’s none of my business, but I’d be lying if I said I’m not a little jealous.
I take this as one more reminder that she and I are at very different places in life, looking for very different things.
“Let me walk you back,” I offer.
All three girls chorus, “I wanna go.”
KT la
ughs and gives them each a hug before she leaves, insisting she can get herself back to the parking lot down the street.
At the door, she gives me one last smile. There’s no doubt we would have closed out the night kissing if the girls weren’t hovering. On the one hand, I’m disappointed and I want her. On the other, I tell myself it’s better this way.
9
KT
I’m holding spiked punch in one hand, trying like hell to appear as if I’m listening to this guy—I can’t remember his name—chatter about mechanical shit.
My days have been long and physical, and I’m exhausted and annoyed. Another entire week has passed with no word from Ben. I catch up on his life only when Violet comes to the marina, which is less and less with her school schedule filling up.
Sure, I could be the one to call or text, but I’ve been getting a very conflicted vibe from him, and I don’t want to push him into something that will hurt him in the long run. Maybe hurt us both in the long run.
So, yeah, I’m pissy. I really just want to escape this community party, go home, and go to bed.
Chloe made a contact with a local who wanted to offload his pleasure boats, and since it was a killer deal, I picked up all three for next to nothing. The only drawback is that every one of them needs a complete overhaul, bow to stern.
January is already closing out. Memorial Day may still be four months away, but I know exactly how fast it will come. Laiyla and Chloe have busted their butts to drum up interest in the marina, and I have a lot to do to keep up my end of the bargain, to get all the boats looking and functioning at one hundred percent by the opening holiday weekend.
Which is also why I’m standing here not really listening to whatever his name is. Chloe and Laiyla insisted we come together to show a united front and create goodwill in the community. They said showing up to the city’s 150th birthday party and playing nice would go a long way toward continuing to build goodwill and alliances in town, which can only help the success of the marina.
But I should have listened to my gut and stayed home, because I’m in a mood. And I know if I don’t control my irritation, I could do more harm than good here tonight.
