by Sandy Loyd
“I don’t know.” Paul shrugged. “I can’t remember it ever happening here before.”
She nodded. Neither could she. It wasn’t a common occurrence.
“We should be okay, though you may want to move into the house, just in case.”
“Why?” Her concerned gaze sought his.
“No heat out there without electricity.”
“But I thought the entire house was heated with gas?” She had to glance away again. He was just too appealing in candlelight and that did not bode well for the rest of the night.
“It is.” He broke off long enough to finish another bite. “Unfortunately, the units work off an electric blower and starter. Both use electricity.”
“Oh?” The one word held none of the panic storming over her senses at what moving closer to his room meant. How could she sleep with him so near?
“Could be worse. At least the fireplace is gas.” He eyed her for an extended moment and obviously mistaking her concern, said, “Even without a fan, it’ll put out heat. And the heat from the fire in my room will add to it if I keep the door open. But we should close off the rest of the house to try to prevent heat loss, since it’s in the high twenties outside.”
More warmth stole up her face at the idea of him leaving his door open. Did he ever have it wrong. She wouldn’t have trouble keeping warm. Not with the heat sizzling through her body whenever his intent gaze landed her way. Thank the stars above for candlelight, she thought, as Paul got up from the table.
On his way to the kitchen, he asked, “Do you want more wine?”
Heavens no! Too much wine too fast would just make the situation crazier. “No, thank you. I’m fine right now.” Reaching for calm, she cleared her throat and pushed her short hair behind her ears. “Do you think the power will be out all night?”
“Don’t know. But, look on the bright side. At least we have plenty to drink!” he said holding up the second bottle, still unopened. He came up behind her carrying the other half-full bottle. “Are you sure you don’t want any? This French chardonnay is really good.”
“Okay. But only half a glass.” She held her breath, totally aware of his nearness while he poured, and wasn’t able to inhale or exhale until he sat down.
Paul took a sip before picking up his fork.
“How can you be so calm?” she asked, watching him eat.
He ate a couple of bites and paused. “It’s very simple. I have no choice.” Then he grinned. Light from the candle’s flame captured his expressive eyes and cast his amused gleam quite well, adding to the affectionate, teasing quality in his voice when he added, “Why worry when we have all we need? Excellent wine and great company. Plus, the food is incredible. I didn’t know you were a gourmet cook.”
His words encompassed her like a warm blanket, filling her with well-being. She smiled. It felt like her whole body wanted to smile, even her toes. He liked her cooking. “It’s a hobby,” she said, pleased to have something else to focus on other than how sexy he looked in candlelight. “This soufflé is my creation. I like experimenting with different spices and seasonings.”
Kate resumed eating, but couldn’t relax. All too soon, the current of awareness that had permeated the shadowy room earlier returned in full force. She had to fight doubly hard to ignore him, purposefully keeping her attention on her food, too afraid that if she glanced his way, he’d see the spark of attraction she couldn’t hide.
Wouldn’t he have a good laugh over that? Heaven help her! This attraction wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. It was a fluke…a rebound…a coincidence of circumstance due to suddenly finding herself free to look around again for the first time in years. Of course, it was just her luck that Paul—Judith’s Paul—just happened to be the best man in front of her now that her eyes were open.
Why did he have to be so attractive? Why was he being so nice? When she did chance to glance up at some comment he’d make and her focus would land on his engaging smile, she wondered about the biggest question of all: What would it be like to kiss him? She closed her eyes and almost groaned aloud in disgust. What kind of person lusted after her best friend’s boyfriend? Judith deserved better than a friend like her for even entertaining the thought.
He stood. “I should get the fire started out here and check on the one in my bedroom.”
Thankful for the disruption, she jumped up. “I’ll help.”
“Why don’t you close all the bedroom doors and grab your stuff from the guesthouse?”
“Sure,” she murmured, rushing to get away from him.
~
Paul watched her go wondering what went on in that sharp mind of hers, especially during dinner when she never stopped fidgeting. Her hands had constantly moved. Whether twisting her napkin or fingering her wineglass, she appeared nervous. As nervous as she’d been the day before when they first arrived, and so unlike the woman he thought he knew. Kate Winters was always as bold as brass and twice as nervy, almost to the point of being pushy. Instead of irritating him as she’d once done, now she intrigued him…made him want to see what would happen if he pushed back.
Interesting and definitely surprising.
He lit the fireplace in the living room. The flames roared to life when he adjusted the setting to the highest level.
He then went around the house searching for candles. The two on the table simply weren’t enough. The shadows they cast added a romantic element to the room. No freaking way he could sit with her in such a romantic environment and act as if he wasn’t dying to kiss her.
“Help me light these,” he said, nodding to the half dozen he’d found when she walked back inside. They placed a few in strategic spots. While they added more light, it wasn’t nearly enough and did little to ease his torment.
“How about a game of Monopoly?”
She nodded. “Sure.”
He knew damn well he shouldn’t be suggesting any game, but it was too early to retire. Besides, if he eased up on the wine, he should be okay. But Kate might like another glass. “There’s more wine if you want it.”
“No thanks. I’ll have some later, after dessert.”
He headed to the kitchen and placed his glass on the counter. “How ’bout water?” he shouted while rummaging through the refrigerator and bending to reach the bottles in the back.
“Actually, hot chocolate would be great on a night like tonight.” Startled to realize she’d followed him, he almost jumped when she added from just inches behind him, “Do you have any?”
“Hot chocolate, huh?” He straightened and threw her a quick smile. “I think I can find some. Funny, but I never pegged you as the type.” In his mind, she was more the hot toddy, heavy on the bourbon type.
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.” She scooted him out of the way and grabbed the milk from the still-open refrigerator.
“So I’m finding out.” His smiled deepened. “Since I’m so far off—you know—regarding what I know about you—care to enlighten me?” Though he knew he shouldn’t, he couldn’t help raising his eyebrows and taunting, “We’ve got nothing better to do.” He paused, then added, “Considering our situation.”
“Oh, no, bucko. You may have a need for a tell-all, ‘Kumbaya’ experience tonight, but I prefer to remain a mystery.”
Of course she did, he mused, as he pulled out a container of Nestlé Quik from the cupboard and handed it to her. “Just for the record, I don’t even know what ‘Kumbaya’ means, but I’m a pushover for hot chocolate. Especially during a snowfall.” He’d get her to talk about herself. People didn’t call him personable for no reason.
“Oh, that’s right.” Kate tsked, shaking her head. “You’ve probably never experienced singing around a campfire, since your family never drove anywhere.”
“Neither did James,” he answered, holding back a laugh at the impertinence in her voice. “You don’t seem to hold it against him.” He nodded to the stove and the chocolate melting cake they had yet to eat. “Just wor
k your magic and I’ll set up the board. Then, you can tell me all about singing around campfires.”
She laughed.
Minutes later, she carried in a tray. “What happened to Monopoly?” she asked, indicating the Trivial Pursuit board he’d set up.
“It’s the only game I could find. Figured we play this or sit and stare out at the snow all night.” Or her, in which case, playing an outdated game was definitely much safer.
She nodded. The scent from her delicious melting cakes drifted under his nose as she placed the dishes on the coffee table next to the game board and sat, Indian style, beside him. “Too bad we can’t roast marshmallows over the flames. Then it would be just like camping.”
He helped himself to the dessert. “I’ve never been camping, but I know this. If camping involved pure decadence like this and you added roasted marshmallows, it doesn’t sound all that enjoyable.” When she shot a confused glance his way, he explained, “I’d be sporting a sugar headache right about now.”
She giggled and the sound zinged through his ears, the ring of it penetrating all the way to his gut.
In an effort to ignore her allure, he took another bite and closed his eyes, savoring the rich taste. “This is like eating a piece of heaven.” Only one thing was better…he pushed the image of her naked in front of the fire out of his mind. He doubted she’d appreciate the direction his thoughts had wandered.
“I haven’t played this game since college when we played for drinks rather than wedges.”
“Wedgies?” he blurted out on a laugh. “Now that’s a round I wouldn’t want to lose.”
She gave him a look that could freeze fire and held up the little plastic piece. “I said wedges.” She then pulled the green wheel out of the box, and placed it on the board. “I’ll admit I wasn’t very good at it.”
“I doubt I’m any better, so we’ll be evenly matched,” he said, digging out the yellow wheel and setting it next to her green one. As she grabbed the die and tossed it, he asked, “So where’d you go to college?”
“San Jose State. With Judith.” The look she threw at him this time was even more priceless. Any moment he expected her to knock on his head and say, “Hello, is anybody in there?”
“Sorry.” He shrugged, as a bit of warmth hit his ears. “I guess I should’ve known that.”
She rolled her eyes and an unladylike sound erupted from her throat. “Ya think?”
He reached for the die. “Oh, c’mon. So I didn’t pay attention back then. I’m paying attention now.” He rolled. “And I’m more than curious about your past.”
When she started to shake her head, he put up his hand and said in a more wheedling tone, “It’s just to pass the time.” He leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Unless you’re afraid to talk for fear I might discover your deep, dark secret.”
“Of course I’m not afraid of talking,” she denied, scooting further away from him. “Besides, I have no secrets.” But the blush pinking her cheeks said otherwise.
“Then I don’t see a problem.”
“Okay,” she said, and picked up the die to take the first turn, since she’d rolled the high number. “To show you how wrong you are, I’ll play along. But my life up to now is rather boring.”
“You’re exaggerating, I’m sure.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Her quick laugh ended in a loud groan as she landed on purple. “I suck at entertainment. The questions are based on ancient stuff only my parents would know.”
Paul smiled indulgently and read the question.
Kate snorted. “Who in the hell cares what occupation Clint Eastwood’s character was on Play Misty For Me?” She shook her head. “I have no idea.”
Still grinning, Paul glanced at the answer. “Take a wild guess.”
“A disk jockey.”
Wide-eyed and open jawed, Paul could only stare. “How in the world did you guess that?”
“So I’m right?” A giddy laugh escaped her lips. “Who knows? I might just win.”
“And since you’re so curious about me…” she added a purple wedge in her wheel and tossed him an almost gloating grin, “...I’ll tell you the basics. I grew up in a suburb outside Chicago. In high school I got interested in art, which lead me to San Jose State and that’s where I met Judith.” Before she moved her piece, she asked, “How about you? Did you go to Woodside High School like James did?”
“Yeah.”
Kate took another turn, earned a second wedge, and then was stumped on the next question. Handing him the die, she said offhandedly, “So, did you play football, too?”
He hesitated and his eyes narrowed, wondering about her question. “No. I was into swimming.”
About to pick up a card, she halted and looked at him. “Wow, that’s cool.”
“When I was fifteen, I won two championship races for my summer swim team,” Paul said, moving his piece to an orange square. “Breaststroke and butterfly in the fifteen- through eighteen-year-old age group.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.” He nodded and had to look away. The approval in her eyes did something to his insides and made him secretly glad for the wins to impart in the first place.
He then told her about making his high school swim team as a freshman. “I went to regionals that first year.” He kept silent about the part his achievement played in helping him overcome his shyness.
He found himself opening up to her as they continued playing. Despite Kate earning two wedges to each one of his, he was totally enjoying the game and the conversation.
He’d shared more than of his past with her than any other woman, except Judith. What surprised him the most was that the words came out so naturally, probably a result of seeing admiration flash in her eyes after his revelations. Normally, he wasn’t the type of guy who beat his chest, but that’s exactly what he felt like doing.
Kate finally answered incorrectly, giving him a turn for a change.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were hustling me.” Grinning, he reached for the die.
“You were the one who wanted to play,” she said. Her easy laughter touched his heart and caused his breath to catch in his throat. “My skill comes from playing all those games on car rides answering all kinds of questions. And I love Jeopardy.”
“Figures.” He counted out the spaces. “Besides never traveling by car, I’m not a big Jeopardy fan.”
The game had gone on for almost an hour when Paul stretched his legs toward the fire. He leaned on his elbow, not caring a bit that she only needed an orange wedge to win after landing on that color. He was having too much fun.
She’d been a cheerleader and homecoming queen in high school. Considering her bubbly personality, he could see her as both. Still, they had a lot in common. She grew up in a suburb of a big city and was the product of traditional upbringing. Her mom was a schoolteacher and her dad a businessman. Rather than having an older brother like him, she had a younger sister.
He took a card, read it, and then grinned. The game wasn’t over yet. There was no way she’d answer this one correctly. Not in a million years.
“Where is Gasoline Alley?”
She didn’t even have to think about it and said in a rush, “The Indianapolis Motor Speedway.” She reached for the last wedge and stuck it into her pie. “I won.”
“Now I know I’ve been hustled,” he said, laughing at her all-too-smug expression. He’d finally come to the conclusion that his brother was a fool. She’d captivated him all evening. How had he been so wrong about her? Kate was nothing like the scheming, manipulating woman he’d pegged her to be. His skewed thinking made him feel shallow and cruel. Admiration for her swelled because she’d never backed down over the years, even when he’d really twisted the knife with his words.
“Ha!” she said. “You just don’t like it that I won. Can I help it if my dad was a car nut who loved the Indy 500?” Her eyebrows rose in question. “You want to play ano
ther?”
“And have my ego smashed again? No thanks.” Even now, he didn’t want to accept the attraction between them. But the pull was too strong. The thought of kissing those soft lips, smiling at him now, overwhelmed him.
“Then, what should we do now?”
“We can keep talking.” Maybe talking would get his mind off kissing her. “Your dad sounds like a great guy,” he said nonchalantly, putting the game board and pieces away.
Her smile turned wistful. “He is. I miss him.” She looked into the fake flames and sighed. “But I don’t miss the Chicago winters.”
“And that’s why you ski so much?” He nodded knowingly. “Makes perfect sense.”
“Tahoe winters are nothing like midwestern winters. The wind chill can be brutal; it isn’t for the weak. I’ve seen blizzards caused by the lake effect that make this storm seem puny in comparison.” She shrugged and kept her attention on the fire. “Still, I’m midwestern through and through.” She broke off. It was several seconds before she spoke again and this time her voice sounded sad. “I feel as if I’m letting my family down somehow.”
“What do you mean? How?”
“I’m the oldest. My parents can’t understand why I’m not married yet. Now that Chrissie is getting married this summer, I’m starting to wonder the same thing.”
“James’ll come around.” He’d be a flipping idiot not to, Paul thought, seeing the same sadness he heard now creep into her expression.
“Yeah, maybe.” She offered a wan smile.
He cleared his throat, not liking the squeezing sensation in his chest as more anguish seeped into her eyes. “You want to talk about it? Sometimes talking helps.” No one, not even James would be stupid enough to let her get away. Once he realized what he had, that is.
One thing he knew for certain. If Kate were his, he’d never cause her such sorrow. Images of laying her down in front of the fire and kissing away her pain flitted through his mind.
“If I’m going to talk about James, I need more wine.” She stood.
Before he could stop himself and question the sanity of his actions, he reached out and grabbed her arm when she moved past him. Caught off guard, she toppled on top of him.
