He, on the other hand, was the equivalent to an oversexed adolescent who lived in a hotel, had the beginnings of a serious drinking problem and a debilitating case of writer’s block to boot. He was hardly a catch for any woman.
Looking down at his bloodied hand on the doorknob Kevin realized that he would never be good enough for Jamie. He had slept with countless women and had enjoyed every immoral second of it. Did he regret it? Hell no. Was he ready for a change? Hell yes. He wanted Jamie, but he had the sneaking suspicions that she was way out of his league.
He was obviously not cut out for the whole relationship thing anyway. His first attempt at one had been an abysmal failure. He was miserable and Jamie probably felt shitty for rejecting him. He should just forget about her and take what pleasure he could out of life. Starting right now. Yeah. He could definitely go for some no strings sex right now. He was sick of feeling inferior and the quickest way to get over one woman was to get on top of another one.
With that thought in mind, he slowly closed the door and walked back to the bed, smiling grimly as he unbuttoned his jeans.
Kerry’s triumphant laugh greeted him as she reached up and pulled him onto the bed with her.
Chapter Nine
When Jamie needed to think she went home.
She loved living in Vancouver. Adored the bustling metropolis with its unpredictability and vitality, but it would never be home to her. White Rock, a small seaside city about an hour out of Vancouver, was where she and Jessica had grown up. It was here that they'd gone to school, fought, laughed, and dreamed of their future. Now it was where Jamie came to escape and find comfort.
Since their parent's death, four year ago, Jamie had come here periodically to check on their vacant childhood home and to get away from the city. The four-level house, modest by White Rock standards, was built into the side of the hill and afforded an amazing view of the beach and Semiahmoo bay. On a clear day, Blaine, Washington could be seen in the distance from her bedroom window as well as the island-studded channel leading to Vancouver Island and the Pacific Ocean.
She loved this place but today she was meeting a realtor to see about selling their former home.
The property had been left to both girls in the Martin's Will but Jessica hadn't been able to come here since the funeral. She had given Jamie her explicit blessing to sell the place if the proceeds from the sale would keep Hidden Treasures alive.
Jamie’s younger twin had been so much closer to their parents. It was impossible for her to walk through the door, let alone come here and stay for any length of time. It was just too painful, so the house sat and slowly achieved that stale, abandoned air of a home without people to love it.
To Jamie it seemed just plain wrong to imagine someone else living in her childhood home. She had so many memories of this place and her parents, good and bad. She was hesitant to let go of it, but the reality was that she needed the money.
The property had been built in the fifties by one of their great uncles so there wasn't a mortgage, but there were still taxes and hydro and exterior maintenance costs to consider. Duncan had offered to take over these payments for them but neither Martin sister had felt right about that. These small provisions wouldn't put a noticeable dent in his sizable trust fund, but Jamie had been adamant about not accepting charity from him. Even if he was her brother-in-law.
No, they needed to let it go. It was a symbol of all they'd lost and an obstacle to her future, but it still felt like a betrayal to her parents to even consider selling. She would do what she had to do. She would be tough, just like she'd always been. No one would know exactly how much it was costing her to sell her home.
If The Love Laws somehow managed to generate a lot of business for her store, it still wouldn't be enough to mass produce her inventory and launch the Hidden Treasures website on the scale she was contemplating. It was a massive undertaking. And that required capital. The proceeds from the house would provide that, even if selling it felt like ripping out a piece of her soul and putting it up for sale on eBay.
It was bitterly cold as she meandered along the Pier this early February morning. The long wooden structure had been there since 1908 and jutted out into the ocean for approximately 1500 feet. Today the icy wind caused the usually placid surf to slam against the Pier’s moorings with brutal force but still Jamie found herself walking the same route she'd frequently travelled as a child with her mother and eventually alone as a sullen teenager.
She paused and looked down with a small smile. At 15 she had smoked her first and last cigarette directly below where she was standing now. Ten minutes later she had vomited copiously into the sand a few feet away while her friends had laughed at her expense.
The underside of the Pier had been a gathering place for teenagers since the fifties. The rocks and large beam supports had offered perfect protection from the weather as well as camouflage and privacy for bad behavior. In her late teens she had spent a lot of time here, doing inappropriate things with people her sister and mother found distasteful.
Looking back she wasn’t quite sure what she had been thinking. Hanging out under the Pier seemed like pretty risky behavior, even for a rebel like her. She'd gotten off lucky, but more than one girl from her high school had gone down to the cave-like haven under the Promenade with a boy, hoping for an innocent make-out session only to return with torn clothing and tear-streaked make-up.
She still wasn’t quite sure how she’d managed to escape her mother’s detection. June Martin walked the Pier at least twice a day and could have looked down between the slats at any time and seen her there, drinking or flirting or generally acting like a bad-ass. But the chance of being discovered had just added to its appeal for Jamie. On some level she had wanted her mom to notice what she was up-to, but June Martin had never acknowledged it even if she had seen her daughter associating with hoodlums and undesirables under the Pier.
It was deserted down there today, but apparently under the Pier was now a popular spot for drug deals. On hot summer nights when tourists flocked to White Rock like bees to clover honey, police officers regularly walked the Promenade and Pier, trying to keep illegal activities to a minimum. Things had changed a lot in the ten years since she'd lived here. But the view was the same and so was the feeling of familiarity mixed with sadness she always experienced when she came here now
Her nose was running from the cold and the wind threatened to pull her green cashmere beret off her head, but she continued walking and thinking until she reached the very end of the Pier. Here she pulled her long plaid coat tightly around her and leaned against the railing, looking out at the ocean and contemplating her next step.
She was so confused. Not just about Hidden Treasures and its future, but the whole Love Guru persona she'd invented. Was she really this cynical about men? She was mistrustful of love, yes, but was she really as cold as she sounded? When had this happened to her exactly?
It's not like she'd ever had her heart broken. If some dickhead had used and discarded her perhaps she'd have an excellent excuse to bash them so mercilessly, but the truth was she'd never been in love. Not even close. She had been in lust countless times, but nothing she'd experienced even came close to what her sister had with Duncan.
She feared that maybe she wasn't capable of such deep emotion. Perhaps she was superficial and frivolous, just like everyone said. But she loved her sister, and even Clay. She would die for either of them. And she had loved her parents. Okay, she had totally resented them because they hadn't understood or approved of her. But she had cared for them deeply in her own way, despite her exasperation with their close-minded attitude towards what they considered her rather distressingly extroverted and creative personality.
Outside of those four people, her heart seemed to be immune to any kind of real attachment. Yes, she had countless friends and had spent the two years she'd worked at the Kitty-Kat surrounded by adoring men, but none of them had really moved her to any degree. She'd had som
e affection for the five men she had actually slept with, and had really enjoyed them sexually, but love? No. Not love.
When Kevin had kissed her last night, something awful yet truly amazing had happened. She had felt all-consuming, panty-soaking passion, but there had definitely been more to it than that. She had experienced real tenderness mixed in with the passion. A first for her. Yes, she'd wanted to rip his pants off and ride him like a cowgirl on a wild stallion, but she'd also felt real concern for him. She looked into his gorgeous topaz eyes and saw real pain there. He was clearly lost and struggling to stay in control of his world. He was unravelling right in front of her and all she wanted to do was comfort him and help him find his way back to being that fun-loving surfer she'd clashed with in Maui.
But is that what she really wanted? The womanizer she’d argued with on that beach would never settle down. He loved chasing and conquering women. But once his curiosity and his body were both satisfied, he would move on. She knew enough about men to recognize the type. Dating him would be asking for heartache. He wasn't the commitment sort. In other words, he was just like her: which made him both an incredibly enticing challenge, and a real threat to her comfortable, loveless existence.
If she was smart, she would avoid Kevin. The problem was that despite her more conservative appearance and newly serious nature, at heart she was still a rebel. And that demanded a little reckless behavior. At least once in a while. But was she really prepared to risk quite so much? Probably not. Even if his lips tasted better than chocolate and his butt was so tight you could bounce quarters off it.
As much as she liked fantasizing about pursuing something real with the sexy writer, she knew she had way too much going on right now to think about taking on a relationship. Especially with a legendarily promiscuous man who was clearly going through some kind of crisis. Not exactly her idea of Mr. Right. But how was she going to get rid of him now that she was firmly on his radar? Just ignore him? She’d already tried that and it just seemed to inflame him more. Besides, he was her brother-in-law’s best friend. Their lives were entwined. She couldn’t really pretend he didn’t exist without making everyone uncomfortable.
No, the secret to discouraging Kevin was to give him exactly what he claimed to want: sex. The more she denied him the more he wanted her. But if she stopped resisting and they had some mediocre slap and tickle, then he would be content to move on and forget about her. Just another notch on his extremely well-used bedpost. Perhaps they could even be friends after the initial awkwardness wore off. She’d stayed friendly with her other ex-boyfriends, so she didn’t see why a one-night stand would present any long term problems. They were consenting adults who could share one night of lukewarm passion. Nothing more.
The problem was she didn’t want to have mediocre sex with him. Her traitorous body clamored for more. Way more. It wanted sweaty, grunting, mind-blowing, toe-curling, hair-straightening, pussy-drenching, multi-orgasmic sex with a man who knew exactly what he was doing. And that man was Kevin Hall.
Everything about him said, ‘sexpert.’ From his cheeky grin to his giant feet, he was a walking advertisement for truly exquisite casual sex. She was honest enough with herself to admit that was exactly what she wanted. She deserved a little fun, didn’t she? She’d done without for such a long time. Even her vibrator’s batteries had expired from disuse. She’d allow herself one or two little orgasms and then she would start counting ceiling tiles and feigning some really convincing boredom as he pumped away on top of her. She could just imagine the incredulous expression on his handsome face if she actually started yawning during sex with him. That would certainly put him off.
With a small smile she turned her back to the wooden guardrail and the churning ocean. She scanned the hillside for the familiar site of her house, halfway up the hill. The windows were dark now but as a teenager, she’d fancied that she could often see her mother, framed by the pane of glass, watching for her from her window seat and worrying. Catching sight of the familiar green roof in the distance she sighed and thought: pretty soon some other mother will be sitting there and watching for her kid and I won't belong here anymore. The thought made her feel melancholy, so she shifted her gaze towards the mostly deserted shops, pubs and restaurants scattered along West Beach.
Movement along the wide stone stairway leading down from Marine Drive to the base of the Pier caught her eye and she noticed a flock of senior citizens gathering for their daily walk. One large form departed from the crowd and began walking the long wooden planks towards her. His size and shape were unmistakable, as was the confident athletic grace of his movements. It was Kevin. He had followed her here.
At first her heart leapt with surprise and delight. Had he actually gone to the trouble of finding out where she was and then drove out here because he'd needed to see her? Wanted to talk about how things had ended between them last night? Wanted to tell her he had real feelings for her? No, that was impossible. To her knowledge, Mr. Kevin Hall didn't pursue women. He didn't have to, and yet here he was, striding towards her on one of the coldest days of the year and looking like sex on a stick as he did so.
The foolish man wasn't wearing a scarf or a hat so the wind blew his shaggy golden hair around his head in a halo, making him look more like a lion than ever. His dark sunglasses, totally unnecessary on such an overcast day, hid his eyes, but she could see that his lips were quirked upward in a pale imitation of a smile. The dark, unadorned jeans and black leather motorcycle jacket completed what she considered to be her idea of completely lickable casual male attire. Not too put-together to look fussy, but carelessly masculine and oh so irresistible.
When he reached the Pier's halfway point, Kevin raised a gloveless hand in greeting and Jamie watched a huge grin spread across his handsome face. He looked like an extremely overgrown little boy with a secret. Obviously he was delighted that he'd tracked her down.
She wasn't too certain how she felt about his sudden appearance anymore. His being here could mean he was genuinely interested in her, which caused about a million butterflies to start dive-bombing her stomach, but it could also mean she was right about him and he was one of those predatory guys she talked about in the articles. One of those overgrown adolescents who couldn't resist the chase, but once he had a few tasty bites of his prey he would move onto the next vulnerable gazelle.
She didn't want to be just a new and exciting challenge. She wanted more. A lot more but knew with absolute conviction that what she wanted was impossible. He was a man-whore and a troubled man-whore at that. Only a really foolish woman would encourage him and she wasn't foolish. At least not anymore. She needed to get rid of him and the quickest way to do that would be to give him exactly what he wanted, which seemed to be her: spread-eagled and submissive. As soon as possible. As an added bonus she’d be ending her sexual dry spell in truly spectacular fashion.
*****
Kevin felt like the smile on his face must resemble one of those Joker masks they sold at Halloween. The expression felt fake and frozen there on his icy lips and yet he knew if he let his genuine feelings seep through he would look like a kid watching his first horror movie. So he smiled like a complete moron. The truth was that he was scared shitless that Jamie would just casually walk past him like there was nothing between them at all. He knew he'd been a selfish, arrogant jerk in the past and he would completely deserve it if she did reject him so cruelly, but a tiny perverse part of him needed to know, either way, if he'd imagined their connection, or if there actually was something real between them.
He'd come out here to find out. After their epic make-out session at the theatre the previous evening he’d been kicking his own ass for not closing the deal with Jamie. She had wanted him. Her desire had been intense and undeniable. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so completely turned on. After Kerry had left his erection hadn't flagged for hours. Even a cold shower and a broken nose hadn't had any effect on his swollen dick. Only taking matters into his own ha
nd had given him some relief and that had only been temporary. He'd awoken twice more in the night from dreams of Jamie's lips on him, her sweet scent and raw cries of passion echoing in his head like he'd actually made love to her. But he hadn't and at this rate, he never would.
He’d feigned indifference when he left her at her apartment out of some misguided attempt to take their relationship slowly. What an asshole he was. Denying his feelings with a woman like Jamie was not going to win him anything. This wasn't a game. If he wanted her, which he desperately did, then he needed to declare himself again. Tell her he’d like to try having a relationship with her as many times as it took to convince her. No games. No fucking Love Laws or lame-brained strategies to keep the upper hand. It was time to put on his big boy pants and be honest with her – use some direct, mature communication for a change.
Unfortunately, the witty, yet heartfelt speech he'd practised on the drive out to White Rock had completely fled his mind once he'd seen her standing at the end of the Pier. Clay had told him to look for her here, so he’d come to the beach hoping to catch her unaware and hopefully out of her element. Instead, he had found her looking uncharacteristically still and introspective.
He’d watched her from one of the blue railings along the beach Promenade for ten long minutes before beginning the long walk down the Pier. The sky and the sea had surrounded her in a palette of varying shades of grey, making her bright hair and clothing stand out in sharp relief against the muted background. She looked so alone out there. So very sad and isolated from the rest of the world. It broke his heart to see her like this.
Suddenly, what he wanted didn't matter. His dick could stay hard for her until it fell off or drove him mad. He didn’t care anymore. Fixing her issues became his number one priority. His own life was a disaster, but that didn't mean he couldn't play knight in shining armour and save her from her problems.
The Love Laws Page 13
