Kissing Kendall

by Jennifer Shirk

  Kendall chewed the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning. Brad looked so cute disgruntled. Although he acted blasé over the idea of a bunch of women having a baby shower at his home, she knew deep down inside he would do anything for his sister and was probably happy Dee had asked him to do it. His devotion to his sister—the only family he had left—was one of the things Kendall admired most about him. Family was as important to him as it was to her. “You’re being such a good sport, Brad. You know you can even stay and enjoy the party if you want.”

  His face dropped. “Uh, thanks but no thanks. I’m good with the hosting part. Besides, somebody has to entertain Walt while his wife is getting showered with all those gifts.”

  Kendall turned to Dee. “Hey, that reminds me, did you bring the invitations?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said, snapping her fingers. “I left them in the car. Let me go get them.” Dee turned to Brad with a mock scowl and pointed a finger at his chest. “Look, you, I’ve counted how many cupcakes there are, so don’t even think about sneaking any extra.” Adding one last poke in the chest to emphasize that she meant business, Dee marched out of the kitchen.

  Brad rubbed his chest where Dee had just poked. “That woman needs serious help with her sugar addiction,” he muttered. “But, honestly, Kendall, not only are these cupcakes delicious, they’re beautiful, too. You did a great job on them.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing, really.” Just a few hours of experimenting with recipes and modeling, and making a few extra pounds of fondant to try to get the coloring and shape of the babies to look just right…

  He frowned, obviously not buying how she had downplayed her work. “I don’t think it’s nothing. You’re a true artist, Kendall. Don’t ever discount your talent. There are a lot of people out there who can’t boil water, let alone make these delicious cakes. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Brad, you’re good for my ego.” And he truly was. It was the second time this week that he’d mentioned how proud he was of her. Jake had enjoyed her baking but never looked at it as art, more just something he could grab when he needed a snack. No big fanfare. But maybe her baking was more like Brad said. Maybe she really did have true talent.

  Her grandmother seemed to think so, too. It would mean so much if she would take more than a passing interest, though. Her grandmother already had her traveling schedule booked for the next four months, and the way it was shaping out, Grammy might not make it back in time for when the bakery opened.

  An acute sense of loneliness spread over Kendall and she had to close her eyes when her breathing became labored. It would be so nice to have some family support for a change and not be left to fend for herself.

  Brad startled her by reaching out and stroking the side of her face with his finger. “Hey, why the frown? I pay you a compliment and you look unhappy. Next time, I’m going to tell you your cupcakes suck if that’s what it takes to get a smile out of you.”

  “Oh, stop,” she said with a halfhearted laugh, lightly batting away his hand. “It’s nothing you said. And I am happy.” Mostly. At least she was happier than she’d been a few months ago.

  Brad narrowed his eyes. “No, I know you. What’s really going on?”

  She should have known better than to think she could hide anything from him, so she gave up the pretense. “I don’t know. I…I guess I feel a little alone sometimes. Grammy never seems to be around when I need her—and she’s all I have now. Even though it’s just you and Georgie, you two are close and share so much. And I…” She flushed, realizing she was babbling and embarrassing herself further. “Never mind. I’m sorry. I’m just being silly.”

  “Hey, you’re not being silly.” Brad stepped even closer. His aftershave tickled her nose, but the fresh scent was a welcome change to her senses. All she wanted to do was lean in farther and just inhale. She hoped he didn’t notice her swaying into him, but he smelled a thousand times better than cupcakes and wet paint.

  “You can’t help the way you feel,” he said, placing his warm, broad hands on her shoulders. “But I want you to know that I’ll always be around, so you never have to feel alone.”

  She wanted to argue that point, but his kind words were overwhelming. Brad pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her. She stiffened at first, but the way he positioned himself made it clear that he had no intention of letting her go any time soon.

  Her shoulders relaxed and she dropped her chin to his chest with a sigh of pleasure. Somehow Brad instinctively knew she needed this—a good old-fashioned hug—more than she knew she needed it herself. She wound her arms around his waist and sank deeper into his chest. An aching need to be held by him and have all her worries disappear squeezed through her. She felt safe, almost believing his words that he would always be around and she’d never be alone.

  It was nice to pretend for a few minutes, anyway.

  Brad shifted, gathering her even closer. He brushed a gentle kiss on the side of her forehead and a shudder passed through her. He felt so nice. This felt so nice. Brad inclined his head a few more inches and his breath softly fanned her face. Without warning, her senses began to spin from the heat of his body and the scent of his skin. That’s when she knew she was in trouble.

  Her eyes sprang open. Suddenly their embrace didn’t feel like a friendly hug, but something much more intimate. What were they doing? What was she doing?

  Brad is only trying to comfort you, she kept telling herself. Until she looked up into his eyes and saw that he felt what was passing between them as well. His blue eyes were filled with heat. Desire. She swallowed hard.

  A throat clearing brought her back to reality. Her gaze snapped to Dee, who was staring at them both with her eyebrows raised inquiringly. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Dee commented.

  “Of course not,” Brad answered smoothly, easing away from Kendall.

  Maybe Kendall had gotten the signals all wrong, because his voice didn’t waver a bit and his expression was a mask of stone. Her lips parted to speak. She wanted to add to what Brad had said, but her emotions were still swirling so much from Brad’s touch that she wasn’t sure it would have been the truth.

  “Still interested in seeing Georgie’s shower invitations before they go out?” Dee asked, fanning her face with one of them.

  A corner of Brad’s mouth pulled into a slight smile. “I’m sure Kendall’s still interested. But as long as you’ve got them in your hand, I might as well take a peek too.”

  Kendall tried to speak again, but her voice wavered. “R-right. I can’t wait to see those invitations.”

  Gah. There was absolutely no enthusiasm in that statement. How could Dee or Brad believe those words? She was a horrible actress. Thank goodness she at least had some cooking skills.

  Dee pulled an invitation from its envelope and held it out to them. Kendall took it, trying to give it all the attention she could muster without physically inserting the paper into her eyes. But it was no use; she couldn’t concentrate. Instead, she caught herself glancing over her shoulder every few seconds at Brad to see if he was as distracted as she was.

  Nope. She was the only jittery one; Brad was a picture of calmness as he studied the invitation. Figures.

  After a moment, he nodded. “I like it. What do you think, Kendall?”

  Think? She couldn’t even talk! Her tongue felt as if it were mummified, and she still had yet to really look at the invitation. She handed it back to Dee. “Good,” she murmured.

  Dee gave her a blank stare before tucking the invitation back in its envelope. “Good? That’s it? Really?” She rolled her eyes. “Gee, after all the time I put into picking out these invitations, you can’t even give me a complete-sentence answer?”

  Kendall shrugged feebly at her. With no offer of apology, she made herself busy by rewrapping the cupcakes and placing them back in the refrigerator.

  She rubbed her forehead over the exact place where Brad had kissed her and her pulse went racing again. Not good.
Not good at all. She was much too distracted to think about Georgie’s shower anymore. Her mind was on other matters at the moment—like why her feelings were changing toward Brad.

  And more importantly, what exactly she was going to do about them.

  …

  What the hell had he been doing?

  It had been over twenty-four hours, yet Brad was still mentally berating himself for touching Kendall. Dammit, he was a fool. He’d told himself he only wanted to comfort her, but once he’d held her in his arms and smelled her sweet scent something overtook him. And then Dee had walked in. Who knows what he might have done if she hadn’t.

  He knew.

  God help him, he would have kissed her. Even worse, Kendall might have kissed him back. Although she gave him no indication of what she wanted, made no movement toward or away from him, he could tell she was caught off guard by the moment as well. Only, if she’d given in to the kiss, she might have regretted it later. And that was something he wouldn’t have been able to deal with well.

  Brad walked up to Walt and Georgie’s house and was immediately jarred from any further thought of Kendall when his sister opened the door and began bombarding him with questions. He took a small amount of comfort in the fact that they were at least questions he could handle for once, since they weren’t about his love life—or lack thereof.

  “They’re throwing me a shower, right?” Georgie blurted, worrying her lip. She grabbed the front of his jacket and twisted it in her grip. “I mean, they have to because they’re my best friends. Right? Right?”

  Brad held up his hands in surrender, hoping she wouldn’t see through his lie. “Georgie, I may be your brother, but I’m still a man. I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about any baby shower.”

  His sister looked crushed. He was tempted to tell her the truth—to put them both out of their misery—but Dee and Kendall had already sworn him to secrecy, and he knew it would be much worse to get on those two women’s hit list than it would be to get on just his sister’s.

  Brad brushed Georgie’s hands away and tried to sidestep her, but she blocked the door with her arm, looking ready to try a different interrogation tactic. Luckily, Walt appeared at her side and affectionately threw his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

  “Let’s give it a break for five minutes, okay?” he said to his wife in a calming tone. “Besides, do you honestly think your brother would give you that kind of information even if he had it?”

  Georgie stuck out her bottom lip. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But you’re not giving me any information either. I can’t take it anymore. I’m dying to know!”

  “You’re not supposed to know,” Walt told her, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “That’s why they call it a surprise.”

  Georgie’s face brightened. “Aha! So they are throwing me a shower! I knew it! You better tell them to get a move on, then. They don’t have much time—my pregnant intuition is telling me that this baby is coming early, and I need all my stuff before that happens.”

  Brad rolled his eyes. “Well done, detective. Now can I come in?”

  Walt chuckled, gently prying Georgie away from the door. “Sure, man,” he said, sticking out his hand to greet him. “Glad for the company. I shouldn’t be the only one who has to sit through one of Georgie’s home-cooked dinners.”

  Georgie swatted her husband in the arm. “Hey, I’m still learning.”

  Brad frequently came to their house for dinner on Sunday nights even though his sister wasn’t much of a cook. Since her pregnancy, she’d gotten interested in learning how to make meals for her growing family, and since Brad rarely cooked, he was the perfect guinea pig for her.

  “And if you don’t want our child to starve to death, you’ll try to be a little more encouraging,” Georgie told her husband.

  “Our child won’t starve,” Walt said with a wry smile. “I’m actually a very good cook, if you remember.”

  “But what if something happens to you?” she said, her green eyes widening. “What if you’re working or sick or something? It’ll be up to me to feed the family.”

  “Or up to Chef Boyardee,” Brad countered.

  Georgie’s expression turned indignant. “Never. No processed foods. Our child will only have homemade organic meals, right, Walt?”

  Walt exchanged an amused glance with Brad, then gave his wife’s shoulders a little squeeze. “Whatever you say, sweetheart. We’ll have the healthiest baby on the block, thanks to you.”

  Georgie looked as if she wanted to add something but instead she just smiled at Walt. Appearing temporarily appeased for the moment, she waddled back into the kitchen.

  “Damn, that was close.” Walt rubbed a hand over his face in relief. “I’m learning to agree with your sister on everything for the time being until her sanity comes back. Those pregnancy hormones of hers are running amok and have temporarily blocked out what little rationality she had.” He shook his head. “Can I offer you a beer?” he asked Brad, quickly composing himself. “You might need one—Georgie’s attempting to make winter squash stew tonight.”

  “Winter squash stew?” Brad made a face. “Ugh. For real? Please tell me there’s at least some meat in that.”

  “No, plenty of chickpeas though—organic chickpeas,” Walt said with a smirk.

  “Of course,” he muttered, but then he shrugged. “Still better than what I would have had for dinner.”

  “Oh, what’s that?”

  “Cheez Whiz on croutons.”

  Walt threw his head back and laughed. “Ah, the good old bachelor days. I’ll get you that beer.”

  Grinning, Brad followed Walt into the living room. He sat down and made himself comfortable, admiring the feminine touches his sister had made to their house. Even the scent in the air reminded him of his childhood. He hated to admit it, but whatever Georgie was cooking smelled pretty darn good. The whole atmosphere reminded him of what life was like when their parents had been alive. He’d just graduated from the police academy and Georgie had just begun college when their parents had died in a plane crash. He stepped in and took responsibility for his sister then, looked out for her. He had wanted this kind of life so badly for his sister, wanted to protect her and make sure she had someone who loved her. And now she had it.

  But what did he have? Nothing even remotely close. Maybe he didn’t vocalize his thoughts enough to her, but he appreciated Georgie offering him a home-cooked meal every week. Despite her being a hormonal mess right now with her pregnancy, an awkward matchmaker, and very un-Martha-Stewart-like in the kitchen, he loved his sister and loved the time he spent hanging out with her and Walt. Their family dinners were becoming the one bright spot in his week.

  His thoughts couldn’t help but drift to Kendall. He wondered what her bright spot of the week was. She’d even admitted how lonely she’d been feeling.

  Walt emerged from the kitchen with two bottles of beer. “Drink up,” he said, handing him one. “Hopefully it’ll numb your taste buds.”

  “I heard that!” Georgie yelled from the kitchen.

  Walt sat down. Cupping a hand around his mouth, he leaned in and lowered his voice. “Ever since she got pregnant her hearing and sense of smell have become acute.”

  “I heard that too!” she shouted.

  Walt dropped his hand and chuckled. “So, anyway, how was your date last night with…Bambi, was it?”

  “Not Bambi, Brandi. And it was great,” he said, overemphasizing the word for some reason, even though he didn’t truly mean it. “She’s really attractive and she could carry a decent conversation. Georgie definitely knows my type, I’ll give her that.”

  “So you’ll call her again?”

  “Yeah. I guess so.”

  He’d had a nice time. Nothing was wrong with their date—nothing was wrong with Brandi—except for the mere fact that she wasn’t Kendall. But that was exactly why he should call her. He’d come way too close to crossing that proverbial line with Kendall yesterday. Way
too close. He couldn’t let that happen again.

  Walt looked thoughtful for a moment. But he took a swig of his beer, not offering any further comment.

  Brad placed his beer down and folded his arms. “What?” he demanded, irked by Walt’s calm, aloof manner.

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t give me ‘nothing.’ You looked as if you were going to say something. So don’t be a pansy, just say it.”

  A shadow of annoyance crossed his friend’s face, and now it was Walt’s turn to fold his arms. “Pansy, huh? All right, if I’m such a pansy, then why haven’t you told Kendall how you really feel?”

  “Kendall?” Brad’s voice rose in surprise. “I thought we were talking about my date with Bambi.”

  “Brandi,” Walt supplied.

  “Whatever,” Brad muttered. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t feel anything for Kendall other than friendship. And if my sister happened to tell you differently, that’s her pregnancy hormones talking. She’s mistaken.”

  Walt leaned back, not looking convinced. “Nobody told me anything. I’m just telling you as a friend what I see—have been seeing.”

  “Well, maybe it’s time to have your eyes checked.”

  “I’ve seen it too!” Georgie yelled from the kitchen.

  Brad threw his hands up in exasperation. “Oh, great. Can you control your wife and tell her to stay out of my business? Actually, you too. You’re both crazy.” He didn’t need his sister sinking her teeth into his or Kendall’s life any more than she already had. For such a petite frame, Georgie had the fortitude of a steamroller. And the last thing Kendall needed from her friend was more pressure to date when she wasn’t ready.

  Georgie came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel before tossing it over her shoulder. “I’m so glad Walt mentioned this,” she said, pointing her big, concerned eyes at him. “I think you have feelings for Kendall too.”

  Brad waffled for a moment then broke into a deliberately confused grin. “And just what gave you that idea?”