by Noelle Hart
She squeezed his hand and then let go. “I'm coming to terms with that, and I'm giving Drew's proposal some serious thought. It's a matter of spending more time with him to see if he's the guy for me.”
Her statement zinged his heart and he fervently wished he didn't agree with her. It wouldn't be fair to muddy her thoughts seeing as she was trying to do right by the child. He'd back off now, wouldn't interfere.
She looked at her watch. “Speaking of which, I'm due at his place for dinner.”
Regretfully he pulled her to her feet and walked her to his front door.
“You're a sunbeam in my life, Kylie Lambert,” he told her. “I hope at the very least we can be friends.” He'd always hated that line when he heard it in the movies and here he was now, using it.
“I don't see why not.”
Will watched her SUV turn the corner and realized he could see exactly why they couldn't be just friends. He felt completely drained. It took more energy to hold himself back than it did to let go.
*
Three dates in one day. This last one should have her dancing on air. Instead she felt wary.
Probably just tired, she thought, as she rode the elevator up to Drew's condo. Catching her distorted reflection in the buffed metal interior, she placed a hand on either side of her head and imitated Edvard Munch's, The Scream, laughing at herself.
Drew ushered her inside his apartment. Aromatic smells hung in the air, garlic, onions, and something was roasting.
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Yeah. Decant the wine. Pick out whatever you want from the wine cooler.”
“What are we eating?”
“Roast beef with all the trimmings.”
She marveled. “I'll have to pass on the wine but there's no reason you can't enjoy some. So you can cook. Didn't know that about you Drew.”
He deftly tossed quartered potatoes into a pot of boiling water, added a dash of salt. “Doesn't happen often. How about you? You've never invited me over for a home cooked meal.” However innocent the comment, it carried a distinct pout.
Kylie uncorked a bottle of Piñot Noir. Watching Drew rinse green beans in a colander, she imagined what it might be like to live with him. To come home to him every day after work and have the father of her child be there for them. She couldn't quite formulate it in her mind.
Drew was waiting for a reply. His casual attire of t-shirt and lounging pants made him less severe, more approachable. Yet a part of her remained on guard, her nerves on alert. She felt like she was taking a test and that her answers would be judged.
“The occasion never arose. I have a roommate.”
He grunted. “The invisible Jolene. Why haven't you introduced me to her? It's kinda creepy how she hovers at the top of the stairs whenever I pick you up.”
“We have an agreement. No interfering in each others dating life.” Of course that rule had long since flown out the window.
He came around to her side of the counter, perched on a stool. “We're not just dating anymore, Kylie. What we have here is a real agenda. You're going turn this thing inside out and in the end you'll realize I'm a good catch.”
She laughed. Then caught herself when she realized he was dead serious and felt his instant irritation.
“I want you to meet my parents before the baby begins to show. I've scheduled a dinner at their place for this coming Saturday.”
“You haven't told them?”
He looked shocked. “They'd be mortified. That's why I want to move this along, Kylie. I want them to like you for who you are and not just because you're pregnant with their grandchild.”
Okay, that made sense. “Sounds reasonable. I already told my folks this morning at brunch.”
He tensed. “What did they say?”
“I told them about your proposal and that I want to take some time to get to know you better first.”
“Your Dad didn't pull out a shotgun?”
“They said they'd stand by whatever decision I make.”
“You mean we, whatever decision we make.”
“Well yes, technically, but it's my body and my...”
He grabbed her arms fast in a bruising grip. “Kylie, listen to me. I intend to be part of this child's life. By association that means I'll be part of your life, for good. So get used to it. Don't even suggest what I think you were about to, because if you try it I'll find a way to circumvent you.”
The vehement statement stunned Kylie into momentary silence. Pupils dilated, nostrils flared, he glared at her.
“Let, me, go. That hurts.”
He looked down at his hands and released her instantly. Closing his eyes he took a calming breath. “Sorry. This is important. It's my life here.”
“Mine and junior's too.” Kylie rubbed her arms, her dander up. “I can promise you this: I won't have an abortion and I won't let the kid go out for adoption. This child will have the full support of my family. Watch your step, Drew. Grab me like that again and I'll disappear from your life so fast your head will spin.”
A muscle worked in his cheek. She'd seen that same muscle do its little sit-up routine before. Was this a regular thing, this ill-controlled temper?
Contrition won over and he turned back to the kitchen, checked the oven. When he was done, all traces of anger had dissipated.
“Sometimes I'm a little wound up. I don't know my own strength. I love you, Kylie. There, I've said it. Does that count for anything?”
Why did it sound like a backhanded compliment instead of a lover's confession?
“What's love for you, Drew?”
He snorted. “Are you going to quiz me on definitions of how If feel?”
“It's a fair question.”
He pulled the roasting pan from the oven and placed it on top of the stove. Steam rose, and with it mouthwatering aromas.
“Don't turn this into a debate,” he said, draining the potatoes and placing them in a bowl. “Why are you making this so hard?”
Why indeed? Kylie watched as he added cream, butter and chives to the potatoes and began to mash them. His moves were jerky, an indication he was again wrestling with his temper.
Worrisome. Add in the fact that since she'd last seen him she hadn't pined for him or awaited his next call with bated breath.
He raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.
“Sorry, thought it was a rhetorical question. Guess I'm just tired. Pregnancy is draining. I'll set the table. Where do you keep your plates?”
He pointed the masher at a cupboard. “I already have a house picked out for us when we marry,” he announced.
She wouldn't have a say in it?
“You won't work. You'll stay home with the kid.”
“Barefoot and pregnant? Not me. I happen to like my job, my work. I wouldn't want to give it up.”
“There you go again, making things difficult. Do you know how many women would jump at the chance? Most, I think.”
Then go and get one of them. My God, but he got her back up. It was irritating to be lumped into a certain type and have major decisions made for her. While it was true that some women would put up with any number of irritations to land a man in holy matrimony, and that marriage came with a capital C for compromise, she also knew that love meant honoring and supporting each others aims, wishes, and goals in life.
Formidable sides of Drew's character seemed to be leaking out. Red flags were popping up left and right. Did he think he had her over a barrel? That she was obligated to be his wife because he'd refused to wear a condom?
“Didn't you tell me your parents' marriage is a disaster because they didn't take the time to know who they were marrying?” she asked.
Drew's expression soured. “You're determined to ruin this, aren't you? I'm doing the best I can here. What more do you want?”
She wanted to feel something for him other than intimidation, but that was what he was giving her. He made her hackles go up in self-defense. She didn't need more t
ime with him, she thought bitterly, to know that love wasn't likely to bloom. At least not for her.
He'd gone to a lot of effort to cook this meal, so she'd be polite. “Let's eat. Brunch was a long time ago and I'm starving.”
The gravy made, they sat down at his dining table overlooking the view of the narrow passage leading into the Inner Harbor where lights glimmered on the water. Candles flickered and glassware glistened. The beef was tender and succulent. It was an ultra-romantic setting that ideally should have led into a night of wild and sweaty sex. But Drew had withdrawn into a childish sulk and she felt a mantle of exhaustion pull at her, not so much physical but emotional. It shouldn't be work to be with somebody, and if he couldn't stand up to a little verbal jousting, then how would he handle life's more difficult moments?
Logic told her his proposal should have elevated her to cloud nine. Instinct told her she still had her feet firmly planted on the ground, and the fact that those feet were ready to go home spoke volumes.
Drew had other ideas. When she declined dessert he did a one-eighty as though there had been no exchange of harsh words earlier and presumptuously led her toward his bedroom.
When she realized what was happening she dug in. “No, Drew. I'm really tired. Monday morning can be a bitch.”
He gave her a sharp look. “Don't cuss. It's not something I can tolerate in a woman.”
This was news to her. As a rule she wasn't one to spew out foul language but the occasional slip now and then was only natural. The cons on her Drew list were starting to outnumber the pros.
Kylie angled toward the kitchen. “I'll load the dishwasher, then I'm out of here.” She carried their plates to the sink and started to scrape them when Drew folded his arms around her in a too tight hug from behind, murmuring in her ear, “C'mon Kylie, let's have a little rumble in the sack. It will relax you, I guarantee it.”
She tried to move away but his arms tightened like steel bands, trapping her.
“What's really going on with you?” he asked with a whine. It grated on her nerves. “Why are you avoiding sleeping with me?”
There it was again. That same question. And now she knew the answer. She tried to jerk free but he held on tight. “It's this, Drew. You're not giving me a choice here, physically and otherwise. You're pushing too hard and making demands that I don't think I can deliver on.”
“You can learn. It comes with the territory. Every woman conforms to the needs of her man. It's only natural.”
That piqued, and how! She struggled in earnest now and he let go. “I know marriage takes a certain amount of push and pull, but what you're saying is that you want me to change who I am while you remain the same. That doesn't work for me.”
His breathing became shallow and his eyes sparked and narrowed. She watched in alarm as his fingers curled into fists. He took a step toward her and she flinched.
That one little reaction stopped him cold. Drew took a deep breath and unclenched his hands.
She gave him a moment. Then, quietly, “This is an area of concern Drew. Are you predisposed to follow in your father's footsteps?”
She knew she was taking a risk saying it, knew it might push him over the edge. Better to find out now though, to see if he had whatever this was under control.
His shoulders slumped. “I'm not an ogre, Kylie. You push my buttons. Why do you do that?”
“If it's me causing the problem, it's not intentional. I don't go in for physical violence one iota. It's good this is coming out now. I won't be your punching bag. Now move aside. I'll see myself out.”
The errant muscle in his cheek did its little dance but he let her move past him and go to the door. She turned and looked back at him. Pity. He was such a good looking man, the kind of looks any woman might fall all over herself to grapple at in the sack. Too bad it was a tainted package.
He said, “What about the dinner on Saturday at my parent's house?”
She blinked. “You still want to do that?”
He nodded. “I told you before, I'm a part of your life now. My parents have a right to meet the mother of their grandchild.”
Her stomach sank. So this would be troublesome after all. “Are you planning on telling them? I thought you said they'd be mortified.”
His gaze was level if not menacing. “I intend to work this out, Kylie. You're tired right now. I get that. But you'll change your mind. I'll pick you up at six on Saturday. Wear something appropriate.”
Incredulous, she made her escape. All the way home Kylie's head swam with the swift turns and shifts in Drew's personality. Dear God, what if the kid inherited it? Then she'd deal with it, she raged internally, stamp it out before it took root. These things were as much developed by circumstances as they were by genetics.
Weren't they?
* * * *
CHAPTER SEVEN
“So you're telling me the clown was responsible?” Lyle asked Kim as they pumped out an order for a table of four.
Kim's cleaver hit the chopping board with a decisive whack as he cut grilled lemon tarragon chicken into strips. “He should'a turned off the valve and disconnected the nozzle once he was done with the balloons and chipmunk talk. Said he got distracted by the crowd's enthusiasm and plain forgot. Cost him his job.”
“Thank God the kid, what's his name...?
“Bart.”
“Well thank God Bart pulled through without any brain damage. And that his parents are good enough friends to let things lie.”
“Yeah. Big Bart and Amy have been our neighbors for three years. Carrie and Amy hang out, have each others backs with the kids. Counts for something.”
Lyle passed a plate decked out with tuna tar-tare onto the pass-through for Jolene to pick up. He watched her approach and then load her large tray with four orders, expertly balance them at shoulder level and walk away. It was a busy evening with a hungry and noisy crowd, just the way he liked it.
“How's the training coming along, Kemosabe?
Kim snorted. “What did you just call me?”
“Don't look so insulted. It's the Lone ranger's name for his faithful friend.”
Kim cackled. “Scriptwriter came up with that one. Could mean anything from trusted scout to a horse's ass! Maybe I should be calling you that.”
Lyle didn't appreciate the remark. “You saying I'm a horse's ass?”
Still laughing, “If the horseshoe fits.”
Lyle speared him with a solemn look.
Kim turned serious. “You started this thing with Jolene, then tossed it at me the instant things heated up. She took it personally and you aren't even aware. Maybe you should send her out to the new location with me come November. 'Cuz the two of you working side-by-side ain't gonna fly with this thing between you unresolved.”
“I know that.” Flustered, Lyle slammed an earthenware chili pot onto the counter.
Kim raised an eyebrow. “Despite the fact that we're seven billion strong on this planet right now, it's hard to find someone you click with. Don't let her slip through your fingers.”
“Why you playing cupid all of a sudden?”
“Because you are one blind dude right now and I'm hoping to shed some light. She's a rare find with a heart of gold. And that, my faithful friend, counts. A lot.”
Three new orders appeared on the computer monitor. They worked in tandem, their rhythm finely tuned. By the end of the shift when the last of their customers had gone and the kitchen had been cleaned, buffed and polished, they sat at a corner table drinking their requisite cold beers, reward for a job well done.
“I know what I'm going to do about Jolene,” said Lyle.
Kim took off his hair net and let his braid unravel. “Can't wait to hear this.”
Lyle grinned. “Don't come in for her training session tomorrow morning. I'll be giving it to her.”
“You'll be...” Kim wiggled his eyebrows, “giving it to her?”
“Damn you, now who's the horse's ass! I need to talk to her, iron th
is out.”
Kim drained his beer and rose. “You do that, Tonto. I'm outta here. Going home to my real life.”
*
Out of breath, Jolene tapped on the diner door window and waited for Kim to let her in. Running late, she'd cycled over on her trusty ten speed through early morning traffic and barely made it on time. A thin sheen of sweat glowed on her skin as she untied her bike helmet and shook out her copper curls.
When Lyle swept the door open her knees turned to jelly. Her first thought was, Oh God, I didn't wear any makeup and these are my oldest pair of ratty shorts!
He on the other hand, hair net and all, looked heart-stopping. He took the handle bars of her bike and steered it inside, propped it against the counter.
“Want coffee?” he asked, pouring a cup of his special Colombian brew. “You're wondering why I'm here instead of Kim.”
She accepted the cup, inhaled, and sighed. “Hmm. Just let me wake up. Thought maybe I was still dreaming.”
No game playing for her. Just straight-to-the-point honesty. It was time for him to take a lesson. Time for him to put aside his bullshit worries about the future and hold on to today, this moment in time.
In one fluid movement he took the cup from her hands, set it aside, then splayed his large hands over her waist, pulling her in.
Lyle's mouth seized hers. Lip-locked, every nerve ending in Jolene's body sang hallelujah. Her hands slid up his chest and over his head where she tore off the hair net and drove her fingertips through his crop of sandy hair, holding on, giving back, taking what she craved.
He laid his forehead against hers, his breathing labored. “I'm not running off this time. Are you sure this is what you want?”
He was a big man, but her arms fit around him perfectly. “You're not blind or dumb. You know I want you. Have since the first day I laid eyes on you.”
Bold and sassy. Altogether irresistible.
