She sat back on the bed and pulled her laptop toward her. She opened a new Word file, then started typing. About a teenaged girl and the boy she liked and her crazy family who found a rare coin worth far more than any of them could imagine.
* * *
Nina stepped out of Andi’s house, grateful the day had ended. She was exhausted. The previous day’s trip to Seattle had settled some problems, but it had been two nights since she’d slept well. The first night, she’d been on painting watch. Last night she’d found herself unable to stop thinking about Dylan and that damned kiss.
What had he been thinking, doing that to her? You couldn’t just walk up to someone and kiss her and get away with it. Except it seemed you could. Especially when the kissee—her—kissed back.
She didn’t know what he wanted or expected. She also didn’t know what she wanted. Dylan was so different from Kyle. More mature, but also more comfortable to be with. They had a past. Not that she was interested in dating Dylan, or that he had asked, which returned her to the confusing place where she’d spent much of the night.
She turned the corner and saw a man leaning against her car. He was tall and blond and when he saw her, he gave her a slow, sexy smile.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
While her brain was busy processing how good he looked and how sweet the words sounded, her body was off with other matters. Her girl parts urged a close encounter, her hands itched to be touching him everywhere and her feet were carrying her toward him as if she had every intention of throwing herself at him.
Confusion brought her to a stop only a couple of feet away.
What was wrong with her? Two days ago, she hadn’t wanted to have sex with Kyle. She’d practically decided she was never seeing him again. Yesterday she’d been kissing Dylan, and now she was getting all tingly at the sight of Kyle and wondering if it would be tacky to have sex in her car?
Was it possible she needed some kind of psychological intervention?
“Hi,” she said, keeping her distance, even though most of her didn’t want to.
He pushed away from the car and closed the space between them, although he didn’t touch her. “I missed you yesterday.”
“I had to go to Seattle.”
She thought about mentioning the painting, but Kyle didn’t strike her as the type of guy who watched the local news.
He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “I’m sorry about the other night. You were sending me a clear message and I didn’t listen. I wanted...” He looked away, then back at her. “We both know what I wanted.” He drew in a breath. “The thing is, Nina, I like you. I like being around you. You were right—this started as some quest for me. To find you and make you mine.”
And he’d done a fine job of it, she thought. “A fling. You were clear on that. I have no complaints.”
His dark blue gaze locked with hers. “What I figured out is that’s not enough for me anymore.”
Her stomach tightened. What? He was breaking up with her, just when she’d come around to his way of thinking?
“I want more,” he continued. “I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you better. I want us to be about more than sex. I care about you.”
Nina honest to God didn’t know what to say. “You’re talking about a relationship,” she said, then waited for him to start pointing and laughing. Because he couldn’t mean it. Twenty-six-year-old fighter jocks didn’t stand in front of her asking for an emotional connection. Of course, until Kyle they hadn’t been bugging her for sex, either, but that was an issue for another day.
“Yes,” he said simply. “I want us to be in a relationship. Is that a problem?”
She thought about how, except for a couple of nights ago, she felt free and content in his arms. How he made her laugh and was incredibly pretty to look at. Then she thought about Dylan and their kisses and, for a second, was genuinely confused.
“I, ah—”
The slow, sexy smile returned. “Don’t worry, Nina. I’m happy to have to work for it.”
She’d barely processed the words, let alone their meaning, when he turned and walked to his car. Before she could blink again, he was driving away. Thirty seconds later, a text buzzed onto her phone.
I’ll convince you, was all it said.
Chapter Nineteen
AVERIL STUDIED THE table setting. Until recently they’d mostly used the large dining room set in the store for little more than a giant shelf. Other items were literally stacked on chairs and shoved onto the table. Cindy’d had the idea of using the table for its intended purpose, and displaying dishes on it as if someone were going to sit down to a meal. Averil had suggested they take that idea further to show off four place settings.
She and Cindy had put the leaves in the table, expanding it out to its full length, then had artfully draped four different tablecloths. One side showed off the Depression-era glass with its soft tones. An old sterling silver flatware set had been used with those items. Opposite was a more formal setting with beautiful Lennox and Waterford pieces, and so on.
The first weekend after the change, Cindy had sold three sets of dishes. Averil had high hopes for more.
The front door opened, and Nina walked in. She glanced around, as if searching for something, then asked, “Where’s Cindy?”
“Out back, spray painting a wooden drying rack we found. We’re going to use it to display linens.”
Nina still wore her scrubs from work. She looked rumpled and tired—as if she’d had a long day. She reached behind her and pulled off the band at the bottom of her braid, then finger-combed her hair.
“We need to talk,” she said wearily.
Averil stiffened. She immediately tried to figure out what complaint her sister had now and how she was going to explain that Nina was wrong. That was followed by the thought that she assumed she was in trouble. In light of her recent semirealization, she wanted to try to stay as in the moment as possible. If she could keep herself from falling into familiar patterns, maybe she could figure out what had gone wrong in her life and then fix it.
Nina sank into an overstuffed chair and covered her face with her hands. “That’s not exactly accurate,” she amended. “I need to talk, and I hope you’ll listen.” She glanced toward the back door. “Cindy’s going to be a bit, isn’t she?”
“I think so.”
Nina dropped her hands to her lap. “Good. I don’t especially want to entertain her with the disaster that is my personal life.”
“Understandable. What’s up?”
“I’m sleeping with Kyle.”
Averil nodded slowly. “Right. The fighter pilot guy. He came to dinner and didn’t run screaming when he met Mom and Bertie. He seems nice.” Young and not Nina’s type, but part of her new maturity was keeping tidbits like that to herself.
“He is nice. Very sweet and a god in bed.”
Averil grinned. “You have high-quality problems.”
Nina managed a smile. “I wish that was it, but it isn’t. Okay, it sort of is.” She paused. “I’m so confused. He wants more.”
Now it was Averil’s turn to not get it. “More, how? Like you tying him up? Because if you want to do that, you need a safe word.”
Nina stared at her. “What on earth? No, not tie me up. A safe word? How do you know stuff like that?”
“I live in California. Everybody does bondage in L.A.” Averil held in a laugh. “So, what do you mean by he wants more? Relationship more?”
Nina nodded. “He said that when this had started, he wanted a fling, but now he wants more. I think he was asking me to be his girlfriend.”
A surprise, Averil thought. Not that Nina didn’t have charms, but that she would let herself get close enough to Kyle for him to think that was possible. Being involved meant being vulnerable. Nina didn’t surrender emotionally to anyone.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“I don’t know,” Nina admitted. “It’s not what I was expecting. We’re hav
ing a fling and I was okay with that. I mean, my God, have you seen him? His body, that smile. I have to say when all that attention is turned on a girl, it’s tough to say no.”
“Do you like him?”
“Sure. I mean, what’s not to like? He’s the human male equivalent of a puppy. Adorable and fun. He works hard, plays hard and then falls asleep.”
“There’s more to him than that,” Averil insisted. “He has to have emotional depths.”
“I guess,” Nina said slowly, looking confused. “We don’t really talk about things. He talks about his family some. I know he wants to be a Blue Angel.”
Averil frowned. “The jets that fly around at air shows?”
“That would be them. He has a plan. But we don’t discuss much else. He tells me about his day, which involves a lot of talk about flying. Then we talk about my work, then we finish having dinner, then we have sex.”
“Sounds like a relationship to me,” Averil told her. “What are you objecting to?”
“I don’t know,” Nina admitted. “It’s just so strange. He’s leaving in a few months, so there’s a time limit. But it’s not as if we’re getting married.” She rubbed her temples. “I’m getting a headache from thinking about all of this.”
“You need to figure out what you want,” Averil said firmly. “Do you want to take things to the next level or do you want to keep things light?”
Nina nodded. “You’re right.”
Averil felt a glow of satisfaction. Words her sister never said to her. Being the calm one giving advice felt pretty damned good.
“Of course, if you’re going to try that next-level thing with Kyle, you’re going to have to figure out what you’re doing with Dylan.”
She was mostly teasing, but then Nina stared at her, eyes wide and filled with guilt.
“You’re sleeping with Dylan?” Averil asked, her voice rising with each word.
Nina glanced over her shoulder, then motioned for her to be quiet. “Don’t shout, and no. I’m not. We’re friends. Good friends who have a past. We’re not having sex.”
“I’m not sure I believe you. You’re doing something.”
Nina shifted in her seat. “We’ve kissed. It’s nothing.”
“Was there tongue? Because tongue isn’t nothing.”
Nina pressed her lips together. “I don’t feel I have to discuss that with you,” she said primly.
Averil leaned back in her chair. “You brought this conversation to me. For what it’s worth, I think it’s okay to sleep with them both. At least until you commit to Kyle.”
Nina’s mouth fell open. “No, it’s not.”
“Why not? If you’re not in a committed relationship, you’re free to do what you want. I’m not saying it’s a good idea. I’m not sure you could handle it, emotionally, but it’s not wrong. Until you have the talk about being exclusive, you are free to be wild.”
Nina covered her face with her hands again. “That is so not me. I haven’t been on a date in forever and now this.” She straightened and lowered her hands to her lap. “Anyway, it’s not an issue. Dylan and I aren’t doing that. The kissing was just one of those things. Practically an accident.”
“I’ve never known you to be self-delusional before,” Averil murmured. “But, hey, if it helps you sleep at night, go for it.”
Her sister stared at her, but Averil didn’t care. She’d never seen Nina so rattled, and watching her now was very satisfying. If that made her shallow, so be it.
* * *
Nina carefully poured herself a glass of wine. She hadn’t eaten much that day. Her stomach was all messed up, and she still had that headache. Although her talk with Averil had helped her feel better emotionally, it hadn’t done anything for her physical symptoms.
It was the confusion, she told herself. Confusion about Kyle and Dylan and her life and where she was. The only good part had been leaning on her sister. For once she didn’t feel that everything was completely up to her.
She’d gotten home less than a half hour before. After showering and dressing, she had walked into the kitchen for her wine. Now she was going to sit quietly and sip until it was time to deal with dinner. She wasn’t sure what everyone’s plans were for the night and found herself hoping they would all go out and leave her in peace. Nothing sounded better than a—
Her mother charged into the kitchen and glared at her. “You had no right,” Bonnie began, her face flushed, her glare hostile. “You took my painting. I had a connection with Evening Stars!”
Nina felt the slap down to her heart. “Mom, we discussed this. There was no way to leave the painting here. Not after everyone knew about it.”
“It’s not your painting,” her mother reminded her. “It wasn’t your decision to make. This is just so like you, Nina. Everything always has to be your way.”
Nina quickly looked for an escape, only there wasn’t one. The unfairness burned, and she fought against unexpected tears. Crying? Really? Wasn’t she used to this by now?
Then she tightened her grip on her wineglass and stiffened her spine.
“No,” she said clearly. She liked the sound so much, she said it again. “No, Mom. I didn’t take your painting against your will. I cleaned up your mess, the way I’ve been doing it for my entire life. We had a discussion as a family, and we made a decision. I took care of the logistics. I don’t know if you’re embarrassed by your behavior or bored or what, but you’re not blaming this on me.”
Bertie walked into the kitchen and stood next to Nina. “Bonnie, what are you doing? We all talked about this. We all agreed what was best. You said you were fine with it. You shouldn’t take this out on Nina. She doesn’t deserve it, and you know it.”
Bonnie crossed her arms over her chest. “She’s so insensitive to my feelings.”
“And you’re acting like a five-year-old.” Bertie sounded disapproving. “Grow up. You’re the one who had to go tell the world, and these are the consequences. If you’re upset about the painting being gone, you only have yourself to blame, and you know it. Stop taking it out on Nina. She’s been your scapegoat enough over the years.”
Bonnie turned to her partner, her eyes wide. “Bertie, no.”
“Yes,” the other woman said firmly. “I love you, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind to your faults. You wanted to go on TV with the painting because it made you feel special. But your need for attention put this family in jeopardy. It’s a ten-million dollar painting, for heaven’s sake. You don’t screw around with that.”
Nina had heard Bertie upset with Bonnie before, but not like this. She held her breath, waiting for her mother to throw out Bertie or end their relationship. Instead Bonnie nodded.
“You’re right,” she whispered.
“This has got to stop,” Bertie continued. “The bigger issue is that Nina’s your daughter. You’re the parent. Act like it and stop putting me in the position of having to be the one in charge. I don’t want to be your mother, either. I want to be your partner.”
With that, Bertie turned and left the kitchen.
Bonnie pressed her hand against the counter, as if that was all that was holding her in place. She drew in several ragged breaths before looking at Nina.
“Well, that was awful,” she admitted. “I hate it when Bertie’s mad at me.”
Nina drew in a breath of her own. “I hate it when you blame me for doing what’s right. Especially when two days ago you agreed with the decision.”
“I know.”
Bonnie walked to the bottle of wine and pulled out the cork. She got down a glass, then poured herself a generous amount and took a swallow.
“She’s going to force me to act reasonably,” her mother said. “I’ve tried to explain I don’t want to be the responsible one.”
“No danger of that,” Nina told her. “Mom, sometimes you make it really hard on me. I’m tired of taking care of everything around here. Bertie has offered to help, and I’m going to let her. I don’t want to do it all a
nymore.”
Bonnie leaned against the counter. “I think you’ll find it more fun to let other people deal with the crap of life.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
She expected her mother to stalk off, but Bonnie only nodded. “I’m sorry I yelled at you before. You’re right. I did agree to let the painting go, only now I’m sad it’s gone.”
At any other time, Nina might have welcomed having the conversation about their twisted past, but not tonight. Her head hurt and she was tired.
“Mom, you and Bertie need to decide what to do about the painting. Ambrose can handle the sale, if that’s what you want to do. He has good credentials and recommendations, and his fees are reasonable. We can find an honest financial person to help with the investments. But the painting can’t stay in the vault forever. We can’t afford it.”
Her mother looked at her. “How sad. For you the painting is just one more responsibility to take on. If we don’t sell, you’re going to have to deal with it for the rest of your life.”
“Something like that.”
“I only wanted you to be happy,” her mother said with a sigh.
“I’m not unhappy.”
“But they’re not the same thing. I do love you, Nina. And I know sometimes that isn’t enough.”
For the second time in a few minutes, Nina fought tears. “I know you try.”
“Trying isn’t the same as succeeding, is it? Then we’ll make a decision.” Her mother smiled, then kissed her cheek. “And soon. I promise.”
Nina watched her leave and wished she could believe that promise. If wishes were horses... But she knew her mother and understood that there was a reason for clichés.
* * *
“The thing about G-force is that it sneaks up on you,” Kyle was saying as he headed for the bridge the following evening. “You think you’re doing okay, then, boom. You’re fighting to stay conscious. Not a good thing in a jet.”
Evening Stars Page 22
