“I didn’t have to,” she chuckled. “Things like that are dinner conversation at our house.”
“Seriously?”
She made a face, looking even more accessible and down-to-earth than usual. “Don’t ask about my first period.”
Of course, now he had to ask. “What happened with your first period?”
“I told you not to ask.” Kayleigh squeezed her eyes shut and shoved him. “Ain’t that just typical of a man? They never do what you tell them, yet they always do what you tell them not to.”
“I see.” He was beginning to enjoy the afternoon. “The date not going the way you wanted it to go?”
“Your last date must have taken place a really long time ago, didn’t it?”
“Not at all,” he shot back. “I had many long, moonlit conversations with Bulldog. And unlike you, he never once complained.”
“Bulldog?”
“My cellmate,” Aidan said innocently. “Who else do you think I could’ve met in prison?”
“Jesus!” She burst into raucous laughter. “Aidan and Bulldog. The new celebrity dream couple. Would that be Aidog or Bulldan?”
But Aidan wouldn’t be so easily distracted. “So what’s the story of your first period?”
“God, Aidan.” She shook her head and feigned outrage, giving him a scolding look. “You don’t ask a lady that kind of question.”
“Oh, a lady. I’m afraid Bulldog was more of a lady than you are.” He ducked, before she could smack him.
Only a few minutes later, Kayleigh proved that her pitching really was impressive. They were standing on the field, trying to teach Brady how to throw a curveball. Brady was really not bad for a six-year-old, and what he still lacked in technique, he made up for in energy and enthusiasm. If he didn’t hit the ball right away, he never considered giving up but was motivated to try again and do better the next time around. And each time he managed to hit the ball Aidan threw with his kid-size bat, his eyes lit up with excitement.
He was just as excited when his aunt stepped up to the plate and hit pitch after pitch. Contrary to Aidan, who was severely out of practice, she hardly missed a ball, hitting even those that he threw outside or low over the plate. Fact was, he’d never seen a woman play baseball so expertly. Kayleigh truly was in a league of her own.
And Brady was no diplomat, so when they returned the equipment and headed home, he asked bluntly, “Uncle Aidan, why is Aunt Kayleigh so much better at baseball than you? She’s a girl!”
“You’ll have to ask your aunt that,” Aidan said as he caught her glance over Brady’s head.
“Aunt Kayleigh? Why do you play so much better than Uncle Aidan?”
“I have no idea,” she answered. “Maybe he just needs to practice more and stop dating bulldogs.”
“Very funny,” Aidan whispered to her.
“Thank you,” she retorted with a sassy grin.
***
“Mom! Dad! We’re back!”
Kayleigh flinched at Brady’s penetrating yell. They stepped into her brother’s backyard, following the boy who somehow still had the energy to run to the back door at breakneck speed. She knew from experience that Brady would turn up the volume and the speed once more now, telling his parents about his afternoon without pausing for breath, and then in about two hours, he’d drop into bed and fall asleep within seconds. She knew the drill, since she’d spent a lot of afternoons with her nephew in the preceding months.
His uncle, who was holding open the gate for her right now, had only known Brady for a short while, but he was doing everything he could to get to know him and spend quality time with the kid.
Kayleigh had observed how considerate and attentive Aidan had been the entire afternoon, striving to make it a memorable experience for Brady. She’d learned a lot about the man staying in her guest room just by watching him take care of Brady and exhibiting the patience of a saint when it came to showing him over and over again how to hold the bat properly.
That didn’t mean she hadn’t also noticed how he kept staring at her bare legs the entire afternoon.
She hadn’t clamored for his attention, but she admitted to herself that it felt good. By being seemingly unable to drag his eyes away from her legs, he’d implicitly told her that he thought she was hot, and Kayleigh appreciated a compliment when she got one. She was a woman, after all. Granted, prolonged staring wasn’t exactly a nicely phrased verbal compliment, but it was all the more sincere since he never seemed to realize she’d caught him staring. And staring.
As they approached the house, Kayleigh spied not only Shane, but also Alec, who was standing next to her brother in front of the grill and lifted a hand so Brady could greet him with a high five.
Kayleigh couldn’t have said why she suddenly felt uncomfortable.
She kept on walking next to Aidan, hoping she didn’t look as self-conscious as she felt, and registered that he also appeared much less relaxed than he had only minutes before. She greeted everyone. “Hello, guys.”
“Hey, Kayleigh. What are you doing here?” Her brother caught his bouncy-ball son for a second and hugged him, before greeting Aidan with a nod.
“I ran into Brady and Aidan in town and latched onto their afternoon.”
“Aunt Kayleigh is a better baseball player than Uncle Aidan,” Brady declared, thrilled.
Kayleigh bit her lip, wanting to put a hand over Brady’s mouth, since she thought it a really bad idea to remind her wedding date just how unfeminine she was.
Aidan, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have a problem with his nephew touting his defeat at the hands of a woman. “Thanks, Brady. It’s nice of you to stress that fact.”
Trying to steer the conversation away from her baseball prowess, she cleared her throat and pointed at the brand-new barbecue pit. “Are you guys having a barbecue, Shane?”
Her brother rubbed his hands together. “This is sort of Thorne’s wedding present to me,” he declared proudly.
“My sister gave you a grill for your wedding?” Aidan asked doubtfully, addressing Shane directly for the first time that Kayleigh had noticed. Up to now, both of them had spent most of their encounters circling each other like two lions in the savannah pondering whether to tear into each other or continue to laze around in the sun and send the lioness to do the fighting for them.
Shane made a face. “No, not exactly,” he admitted. “But she allowed me to buy a grill. I consider that a wedding present.”
Kayleigh rolled her eyes and put into words what the others were probably thinking as well: “Shane, no offense, but you’re already so whipped.”
Her brother didn’t seem to mind, which was strange, considering he’d been such a hot-headed loudmouth in his day. And then he topped it all by suggesting, “You can have the first batch of barbecued ribs, Kayleigh, if you manage to talk Mom out of picking my tie for the wedding.”
“I wish I had your problems,” she grumbled.
She noticed Alec’s smiling glance passing over her just before he teased Shane with a good-natured chuckle. “Does your mom still put out your outfit for the next day every night, Fitzpatrick? I thought that was the job of your intended now.”
While the partners continued to rib each other, Kayleigh fought a growing feeling of disappointment. Because she’d just registered Alec’s utter lack of interest in her bare legs. The euphoria she’d felt the entire afternoon vanished like water down the drain, and she was seized by the urge to leave her brother’s backyard and go home.
Unfortunately, Thorne came out of the house at that moment, skipping down the porch steps. “Hello, beautiful people!” she called happily. “I’m glad you’re all here, so we can consecrate the barbecue.”
Kayleigh had already opened her mouth to refuse when Aidan’s grumpy voice rumbled next to her. “Not tonight, Thorne. I need to get going.”
“Aidan.” His sister approached him wearing a disappointed expression, and the broad-shouldered man suddenly appeared reserved and a
loof. Gone was the funny house guest who’d made Kayleigh burst into unfettered laughter not even two hours ago as he told her about his dates with his cellmate, Bulldog.
“I should be going home, too,” Kayleigh added and shifted her weight uncomfortably.
“Nonsense,” Thorne said with a frown. “That’s out of the question. I’ve already made salad and enough snacks for an entire football team. And I need your advice later, Kayleigh.”
“My advice?”
Thorne nodded conspiratorially and kissed her own brother on the cheek. “Could you help me bring out a few things from the kitchen, Aidan?”
Playing the obedient brother, he disappeared into the house with Thorne and returned moments later with several bowls and plates. Kayleigh kept an eye on Aidan, while at the same time trying to listen in on her brother and his partner. Though she strained her ears to catch what they were saying, she couldn’t help noticing that Aidan’s expression had turned into a deep scowl, a far cry from his earlier merriment.
She didn’t want to be one of the pitiable women who hung on a man’s every word and danced attendance on him, but she was extremely curious to find out what Alec and her brother were discussing with their heads so close together. He would be her date for the wedding in less than two weeks, but since their agreement to that effect, he hadn’t called her. A nagging voice in her head advised her that she ought to remind him of their arrangements, lest he forget he’d agreed to be her date, but only two minutes later, she cursed herself for being such an idiot. Alec would not forget. He was probably playing the indifferent log so Shane wouldn’t guess what was going on.
Again she caught his eye, but all she got from him was a noncommittal smile, and again his glance didn’t veer south at all. Maybe he didn’t look at her legs or her tight t-shirt lest he provoke Shane, who was infamous for flipping out for no—or little—reason.
But when they were all sitting around the table, admiring Shane’s new grill and the tasty things it produced, Kayleigh stared at her full plate, not feeling hungry. She wondered what was wrong with her that made Alec ignore her as a woman. He seemed to treat her more like a little sister, someone you patted on the head and sent to bed like a good little girl. She felt like a total moron for wanting even crumbs of his attention.
The man she thought she’d been secretly in love with for three whole years was now in the process of loading his plate with Thorne’s home fries with bacon bits and chattering on about Shane’s upcoming bachelor party. Since Brady had gone inside to watch TV, Alec’s talk centered mostly on a strip bar they wanted to hit up.
Thorne’s eyes were blazing. “If you think that’s what you need, by all means, go and party in that strip bar, but I don’t want to know and I certainly don’t want to hear about it, Alec.” Kayleigh couldn’t have said it better.
Alec patted his hostess’s hand benevolently. “Don’t worry, Thorne. Shane’s not going to get into any mischief.”
“Oh, I know that, but—”
“And even if he wanted to, I’m sure your brother wouldn’t let him leave with one of the strippers,” Alec interrupted with the tact of a rhino in a china shop.
Thorne shot her husband-to-be a grim look. “Don’t you dare, pal.”
Shane raised both hands, professing innocence, before dropping the rib he’d been chewing on. “The strip bar wasn’t my idea, honey. But Alec is right. I won’t be getting up to anything under your brother’s watchful eye.” His grin belied his protestations.
“Very comforting indeed,” Thorne grumbled.
Shane cleared his throat and cocked his head to one side, looking across the table at Aidan, who had so far kept silent. “You’re coming, aren’t you?” Shane asked unsteadily.
“Sure,” Aidan replied in an obvious attempt at sounding lighthearted, but Kayleigh, who was sitting next to him, sensed his discomfort and tension. The unresolved animosity between him and Shane became manifest when he added, only half-jokingly, “Someone has to keep an eye on you, brother-in-law.”
Kayleigh leaned back and watched her brother and Aidan fight a duel with their eyes. This typical display of brute masculinity was as unbearable as it was ridiculous. Thorne seemed to feel the same way, judging by her disdainful expression.
“Why do I get the feeling I should be present at this bachelor party?” she said aloud.
“Right. That would take the cake.” Alec shook his head with great finality. “You can’t come. Women aren’t allowed at bachelor parties, unless they’re serving drinks or getting naked to wrap themselves around a pole.”
“Thank you very much for that clarification, Alec.” Thorne’s hackles were raised, almost literally.
Kayleigh felt for her, so she crossed her arms in the face of such blatant sexism and leaned close to her sister-in-law. “Let’s not begrudge them their cringe-worthy illusions, Thorne,” she stage-whispered.
“Cringe-worthy illusions?” Alec repeated, his curiosity suddenly piqued it seemed, for he finally gave her his undivided attention.
That couldn’t placate her now, though, and she took aim at him in her typically blustering and immodest manner. “While you’re slipping sweaty dollar bills into some stripper’s panties and feeling like the kings of the world, that woman is probably thinking about what to cook for dinner the next day. And when she’s getting naked and wrapping herself around that pole, giving you scorching looks, she’s laughing inwardly about all the idiots who pay for her show when they could get a lap dance for free any time if they only acted with a little more class.”
You had to give it to Alec—he didn’t take offense at her words, or at least didn’t let on if he did. Instead, he replied with a broad grin. “Ah. So men are such open books to you women?”
Kayleigh wrinkled her nose and snorted like an angry horse. “Men are incapable of being subtle. It’s genetically impossible. And you’re all unbearably sophomoric.”
Now her brother had taken the bait, too. “Sophomoric? What makes you say that, Kayleigh?”
“Fieldwork,” she said, keeping a straight face. “I work in an ER, in case you forgot, and that’s how I know men are megalomaniacs. You’re afflicted with delusions of grandeur, all of you.”
“Delusions of grandeur?” Thorne seemed to be immensely enjoying the turn the conversation had taken. “That sounds somewhat familiar.”
Kayleigh nodded. “Yeah, it’s a common affliction for men of all ages,” she added sweetly. “How else can you explain the fact that eighty-year-old men with false teeth, walkers, and the shuffling speed of a turtle still try to pinch my ass and tell me my ‘rump’ is worth dying for? Or the fact that they croon about how much they’re looking forward to having me examine them, even though it’s plain as day their last erections occurred when Jimmy Carter was president? I’m telling you, people, megalomania and a sophomoric mind.”
While Thorne was in stitches, doubled over with laughter, the three men wore somewhat perplexed expressions.
“God, I am glad you’re my sister,” Shane said with great conviction. He grabbed his beer. “That way, at least I don’t run the risk of ever going out with you, Kayleigh.”
“Ditto.”
Thankfully, Thorne saved the situation by rising and nodding at Kayleigh, still suppressing a persistent giggle. “Come upstairs with me, sis. You need to help me with my underwear.”
“Hey, that should be my job,” Shane complained immediately. “I want to choose the underwear you’re wearing!”
“No way,” his bride laughed. “You won’t lay eyes on the underwear or the dress until we meet in the aisle. That would be bad luck, and you know it. Kayleigh’s going to help me.”
She didn’t need to tell Kayleigh twice. “Thank God!” she cried out, jumping up. “The amount of testosterone out here was starting to make me depressed.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Shane called after her. “Your estrogen level is going to cause nightmares for all of us, however!”
Kayleigh tu
rned around and made a pitying face. “Oh dear, brother. Did I hit a sore spot with my story of erectile dysfunction? That wasn’t my intention.”
“Go help my woman with her underwear,” Shane ordered grimly, scowling at her.
Kayleigh left him with a breezy laugh, and the last thing she noticed as she stepped into the house was Aidan’s amused face.
Chapter 8
“Kayleigh?” Aidan knocked lightly on the door of her room, hoping he wasn’t tearing her out of a deep slumber.
He’d heard her come home from work at one in the morning, and he’d waited until the clock said eleven to check on her. She normally didn’t sleep late, tended to get up early despite her long shifts, so he’d thought eleven was a good time to knock. He didn’t know whether she was grumpy in the morning, though, so he expected the worst when he heard a rumble behind the closed door. It sounded as if she’d maybe fallen out of bed, and then she opened the door with a sleepy yawn.
“Morning,” she murmured, rubbing her tired eyes.
Aidan felt as if he’d just touched a live wire. Her hair was tousled, and a pair of panties plus a tiny chemise was all she was wearing. Either she was so sleepy she didn’t think about the implication of her state of undress, or she didn’t care.
“Good morning,” he croaked, his throat suddenly dry, and then added like an idiot, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.
“Mehh.” She leaned against the door frame. “What time is it, anyway?”
“Eleven,” he said apprehensively.
Again, she answered that with a mumbled something, and then turned her back on him. Now Aidan had full view of her delectable derriere, which was half exposed, her panties probably having ridden up in her sleep. “Come on in,” she yawned, busting through his butt-and-panties thoughts before slipping back into her bed and destroying any scenario of seduction he might have entertained for a second as she pulled the covers back over her body and snuggled more deeply into her pillows. Right. She’d asked him to join her in her room but hadn’t invited him into her bed.
More Than A Feeling (The Boston Five Series #3) Page 9
