by Gina Wilkins
She shrugged. “I’m good, thanks.”
Keeping his eyes on the road ahead, he said casually, “I’m a good listener, you know. I’ve heard you vent about other things before, just as you’ve heard me complain about various annoyances in the past, so if you want to unload…”
She glanced back at her snoozing child, then faced the front again. “Really, I’m okay. But thanks.”
“Anytime.”
Another three miles passed before Kim spoke again. “It’s just so messed up.”
He murmured something both unintelligible and encouraging, leaving it entirely up to her how much she wanted to share.
“My grandmother is in terrible health, my brothers don’t seem to like me very much, my mother is bug-nuts and my cousins are probably going to hate me when they find out Grandma gave me her ring when I’m not even married.”
Out of that spate of words, several things stood out to him, but one phrase in particular made him have to fight an inappropriate smile. “Um—bug-nuts?”
“It was one of the kinder descriptions I could come up with,” Kim muttered.
Replaying her other words in his mind, he decided to try to address a couple of her concerns. “As for your grandmother’s ring, she has a right to give it to whomever she wants. It made sense that she would pass it down to the daughter of her older daughter. Your aunt and cousins will probably pout some, but honestly, wouldn’t one or the other pout no matter who got the ring?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Let them argue with your grandmother if they’re unhappy with her decision.”
“They wouldn’t dare.”
“Exactly. And they know you’d have no more success in doing so.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
He could think of nothing to say to reassure her about her grandmother’s health. Instead, he asked, “What makes you think your brothers don’t like you?”
Her hand fluttered in her lap. “You saw them. Stuart wouldn’t even get up from the couch to say goodbye.”
“First, Stuart is a teenager. Teenage boys aren’t known for being warm and demonstrative, especially with their older siblings.”
She gave a little sigh. “I know. I guess I was just hoping for a little more.”
Tate hesitated a moment, trying to decide how to phrase his next words. “I think Stuart wants more, too. And I think he’s a little angry with you because it isn’t there.”
That seemed to catch her attention. She turned her head to look at him then. “You think Stuart is angry with me?”
He nodded. “Maybe a little. Maybe not even entirely consciously. But let’s face it, you haven’t been home in three years, and only sporadically before that, you’ve said. Kids take that sort of thing rather personally. Didn’t you?”
“I…never thought of it that way,” she admitted reluctantly. “I had to get away from home for my own sake, but I never considered that my staying away would hurt Stuart. He’s so much younger than I am and he always seemed so self-contained. The kind of kid who entertained himself for the most part and hardly seemed to notice I was around. I figured my being gone just gave him more attention from Mom.”
“You’re still his big sister. Maybe he won’t or can’t express his feelings to you, but I’d bet he would like very much to get to know you better.”
“I’d like to know him better, too,” she murmured wistfully.
Tate kept his voice gentle. “It’s not too late, Kim. Heck, I hardly even spoke to Lynette before I turned eighteen, and now she and I are pretty close. Granted, there’s not as much of an age gap between us, but I think you and Stuart could still find common ground.”
“If he ever speaks to me again after finding out I lied to him about you.”
Tate shook his head. “You didn’t lie, your mother did. There’s your common ground right there. You can sympathize with each other about having a mother who’s, er, bug-nuts.”
“Maybe. I’ll send him an email of explanation and apology once I know Mom’s come clean with everyone. Stuart’s probably easier to reach through his computer than by phone call.”
“Very likely. You can ask him about school, maybe consult him about a computer issue, letting him feel like you need his advice for something. Tell him a few funny stories about his niece. It seemed to catch his attention when you referred to him as Uncle Stuart.”
“Yes, I noticed that.”
“He kind of liked the idea of being an uncle. Stuart’s as hungry for stability as you have been, Kim. I could tell he rather likes Bob, but—”
“But he’s afraid to let himself get too attached,” Kim cut in knowingly. “It hurts too much to say goodbye to another father figure.”
“Something tells me Bob will win him over. He’s almost there now.”
“I’m not sure that’s such a good thing. I’d hate to see Stuart hurt again.”
“It’s impossible to avoid all hurt and disappointment in life. But you know? I wouldn’t be surprised if Bob stays around for a while. Despite all your mother’s, um, eccentricities, he seems crazy about her. I think he just likes having a fixer-upper project underway at all times, and your mom gives him plenty of challenge in that respect.”
“I like him,” Kim admitted with a reluctance Tate fully understood.
“So do I.”
A moment later, she asked, “Since you seem to know so much about my brothers, what about Julian? Is he angry with me, too?”
“Oh, Julian’s pissed off at everyone right now,” he answered lightly. “Starting with his ex-wife and including you and his mother. He’s going to be even madder at both of you when he finds out about me, but I think he’ll get over it. It’s going to take some groveling on your part. Maybe a few tears. But he’ll come around. He’s not quite ready to cut all ties with the family, any more than you are.”
“Groveling and tears, huh?” As he’d hoped, his wry words had roused a faint smile from her.
“Maybe a shipment of homemade brownies. I noticed your brother has a weakness for chocolate.”
“I usually make brownies from a boxed mix. But I make a pretty decent chocolate cake from scratch.”
“That would probably suffice.”
He glanced at her with a sympathetic smile. “But, seriously, Kim, Julian will come around if you explain to him exactly what happened. Don’t leave that entirely up to your mom. Who knows what she’d tell him?”
“I’ll talk to him. Thanks for the advice.”
“Just giving you a guy’s perspective. For what it’s worth.”
“It’s worth quite a bit. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
He shrugged. “I’m hardly a family dynamics expert. But like I said, I know how guys tend to think.”
She seemed to be struck by his observation that Julian was angry with everyone. “Julian was so besotted with Mindy. Everyone thought he rushed her into marriage because he didn’t want to leave her single while he was off at boot camp and then deployed. Maybe it was inevitable that she cheated on him while he was gone. She just wasn’t really ready to get married from the start.”
“Makes sense. But he’ll recover. He’s still young.”
He thought about asking if Kim still had feelings for Daryn’s father, but something held him back. A disconcerting little voice deep inside him hinted that his reluctance could be because wasn’t sure he really wanted to hear her answer.
Kim sat back in her seat and looked out the side window again, listening to the music. While she was rather quiet for the remainder of the ride to her house, Tate believed she was more thoughtful now than sad. He hoped he’d managed to cheer her at least a little.
A soft chime from the backseat made him glance in the rearview mirror. Daryn was stil
l groggy, but had shifted in the seat, and her toy monkey had fallen to the floor. Kim reached back to retrieve it and replace it in her daughter’s arms, then patted Daryn’s arm lovingly before turning back around.
Tate frowned at the road ahead. That Chris guy who’d walked away from Kim and their daughter had to be an idiot. While Tate might not be looking for a ready-made family of his own, Kim and Daryn made a pretty irresistible pair. If Chris had a lick of sense, he’d have done whatever it took to keep them in his life.
* * *
Kim carried the baby into her house, and Tate followed with a couple of bags. She unlocked the door and led him inside, then turned to him in the living room. “I need to give Daryn a bottle and put her to bed now. I’ll bring the rest of the things in from the car later.”
“Go take care of your daughter. I’ll unload the car.”
“It’s late. I’m sure you’re ready to get home.”
He gave her a look and spoke with a laugh. “Kim. It’s nine o’clock. Only to the mother of a nine-month-old is that considered late on a Saturday night.”
She smiled wryly. “I guess you’re right. Thank you.”
He nodded and took a couple of steps closer to look at Daryn, who was awake, but drowsily resting her head against Kim’s shoulder. “Good night, kid. It’s been fun.”
Kim glanced down to see Daryn give Tate a sweet, sleepy smile. And then the child offered Tate her beloved Mr. Jingles.
Tate looked as startled by the gesture as Kim felt. He smiled crookedly, then tucked the toy back into Daryn’s arms. “Thanks, Daryn, but I think you need this guy more than I do. You sleep well, you hear?”
Daryn giggled. Swallowing hard, Kim turned somewhat quickly and carried her daughter off to the nursery, where she changed her diaper and dressed her in a soft little sleeper. Daryn was too sleepy to drink more than half her bottle, but she’d had plenty. Kim kissed her and tucked her and Mr. Jingles into the crib.
Only then did she look toward the door, wiping her slightly damp palms down the legs of her pants. She’d heard the front door open and close a few times while she was putting Daryn to bed, but she wasn’t sure if Tate was still in there. Would he have driven away without saying goodbye? She hadn’t heard his truck.
Leaving the nursery, she realized she was still wearing the band Lynette had lent her. She twisted at it as she entered the living room. Her finger had swollen a little during the warm, active day and the ring seemed tighter now than it had when she’d put it on. She thought she might have to resort to soaping her finger to get the band to slide off.
Seeing her difficulty, Tate stepped forward when she entered the room. “Here, let me help you with that.”
Before she could argue, he had her left hand in both of his, his head bent next to hers. He tugged lightly at the ring, which didn’t budge. “Wow, that’s tight.”
She swallowed and tried to speak casually, as if she weren’t aware of how very closely he stood to her. “Yes. I think my hand swelled a little during the car ride.”
His eyes met hers. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She moistened her lips automatically. “Um—don’t worry, I won’t let you do that.”
They were still talking about the ring, right?
“Good. So maybe if I just do this quickly…”
Expecting a tug on her ring finger, she was shocked when he covered her mouth with his instead.
Chapter Eight
Kim was so startled she simply froze for a moment, unable to either respond or draw back from the wholly unexpected kiss. Even as she told herself she should put a stop to this and quickly, she found herself melting into him.
How could this happen every time he kissed her? Shouldn’t the effects have lessened at least a little after the first time or two? Should it be getting harder every time to remind herself why kissing Tate Price was not a good idea?
One kiss, she promised herself.
Okay, two.
By the time they finally surfaced for oxygen, she’d lost count.
Somehow she’d ended up wrapped around him like a vine on a fencepost. She didn’t immediately disentangle herself, but frowned sternly at him with her face still inches from his. “This is a really bad idea.”
As closely as she was pressed against him, she could tell exactly how aroused he was by their kisses, though he nodded in agreement with her words. “You’re right. Very bad idea.”
He brushed his lips across her forehead and she shivered a little. “We have to stop,” she said with a soft moan.
He drew back. “Okay.”
She looked at him somberly, then found herself kissing him again. This time she couldn’t have said who started it. Nor who unfastened the first button, or dragged first at a shirt hem.
“Still a bad idea,” she muttered even as she half dragged him toward her bedroom.
He planted kisses on her ear, her lips, her chin. “I know.”
“And it doesn’t change a thing between us.” She kicked off her shoes.
“No,” he agreed, making her shudder with a well-placed stroke.
“Starting Monday, everything goes back to usual.”
“Okay. Sure.”
“We’re just…scratching an itch.”
“A little more than that,” he corrected, rolling with her on the bed.
“Nothing serious,” she insisted, arching her neck when he pressed his lips to the pounding pulse in her throat. “Just this once.”
“Probably for the best,” he agreed, stringing a line of kisses down to the center of her chest.
Her breasts tightened in eager anticipation. It was growing increasingly difficult to even think clearly, much less form halfway intelligible words. “And none of our…”
She squirmed, moaned softly, then tried to complete her sentence. “None of our friends need to know about this. Your sister—”
“This is none of her business.”
“No, but—oh, Tate…”
Raising his head, he looked at her in the deeply shadowed bedroom. His hair was tumbled around his face, and she could see his eyes glittering almost feverishly in the dim light. “Kim. I can leave now and we’ll put this behind us. Or I can stay. Your call.”
She reminded herself that she liked being in charge. That she didn’t want other people making decisions for her. That she wasn’t the type to appreciate being swept off her feet by a handsome prince who would take care of all potential consequences for her. It might have been easier, though, if she could have just left it all up to Tate.
Because she wasn’t that dependent type, she drew a deep breath and reached for the drawer in the nightstand. The box she kept stashed there had not been needed in a long while, but she would take no more careless chances in that respect.
“Stay,” she said, setting the box within easy reach. “Just this once.”
His lips only a breath from hers, he smiled. “What did I tell you about the next time we shared a bed?”
She tangled her hands in his hair. “Just shut up and kiss me, Price.”
He chuckled. “Yes, dear.”
* * *
Kim lay on her back against her pillows, staring blindly at the bedroom ceiling and wondering if her breathing would ever return to a slow, steady pace. She’d already given up on her heart rate returning to normal. But she didn’t want to think about her heart at that moment.
She distracted herself by glancing sideways. Her eyes had long since adjusted to the dim light seeping through the curtains, so she could see Tate clearly enough as he lay beside her, his own breathing still ragged in the otherwise quiet room.
She held the top sheet loosely over her breasts, but Tate had tossed it aside. For consideration of her budget durin
g these hot summer months, she kept the central air-conditioning set just cool enough to be comfortable. The fine sheet of sweat glistening on Tate’s chest was an indication of how energetic they had been. She could feel a thin film of dampness on her own skin.
She wasn’t sure how she should be feeling just then. She wouldn’t say she regretted her decision, exactly. She didn’t believe in living with regrets. She did, however, try not to make the same mistakes more than once. Giving in to her attraction to Tate could be filed under the mistake category.
Which did not mean that the attraction had passed. Just lying there looking at him made her pulse jump again. At this rate, her vital signs would never return to normal.
He turned his head to smile at her. “Would it be uncool of me to say Wow?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Yes.”
“Oh. Then consider it unsaid. I’m trying to be cool here.”
Rolling onto her side, she curled her right arm beneath her head, resting her cheek on her hand. “I think that’s a lost cause.”
Turning to face her, he chuckled. “You don’t think I’m cool?”
“I think you’re a very nice guy.”
She wasn’t sure why that compliment made him wince. “Ouch.”
“Nice guy is an insult?”
“Nice guy is a pal. A dude who’s steady and reliable and as exciting as boiled oatmeal.”
She was laughing before he finished his descriptive litany. How could he make her laugh even now, after just turning her world on end?
“You are not boiled oatmeal. But you are still a nice guy. I think you knew my ego and my disposition took a beating this weekend, and you made me feel much better. Thank you for that.”
Tate sighed lightly. “If you’re actually thanking me for making love with you, then save your breath. There was nothing altruistic about it. I’ve been attracted to you since the day Lynette introduced us, and spending this time with you just made that even clearer to me.
“I know you aren’t looking for anything serious,” he added quickly, before she could speak. “And you know I haven’t been, either, at this point in my life. But I wasn’t able to resist acting quite selfishly on that attraction just this once.”
