Nailed Down

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Nailed Down Page 7

by Chelle Bliss


  “Well, I do, but hell, there are other things too. Like the president thing and the whales. Even the kiss could come before…”

  “We did the kiss,” she said, her words coming out in a rush, as though she couldn’t believe I hadn’t remembered.

  “That wasn’t…” My heart was throbbing now, inching up like a flight-or-fight sensation into my throat. “She said you were to have a toe-curling…”

  “Moan-worthy, ruin me for all other men kiss.” She nodded, moving a small smile on her lips. “Yeah. That one got checked off the night after we zip-lined.”

  If I were a different man, if Kit weren’t my friend at all, I’d have gotten up, dropped to my knees in front of her, and shown her how much better my kisses were when they were planned. But her confession did something to me. I hadn’t felt the swirl of excitement in the pit of my gut since I was a kid getting his first glimpse of tits. Kit sat across from me on a small boulder, blinking all innocently like she was real and honest and not trying to bullshit me.

  There was sunlight glinting off the dark color in her hair and in her eyes. Her full lips looked dew-kissed from the water she’d just drunk, and the lines of her beautiful body were glistening with sweat. I’d never found her hotter than I did right then.

  “Well,” I started, clearing my throat to make myself sound impassive and not like the giddy asshole I felt. “I guess I should say thank you.”

  Kit shrugged, her smile wavering as I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. She pulled her long braid over her shoulder, messing with the end like she needed something to do with her hands out of nervousness, maybe some self-conscious habit she had that made her seem indifferent.

  “So,” she continued, seeming uninterested in talking about the compliment she’d just given me, “the other item… The…well, the sex.”

  “You offering me something?” I couldn’t help asking that smartass question with a laugh so she knew I wasn’t serious. “I mean, if the kiss fucked up shit for us, God knows what sex would do.”

  Kit didn’t laugh. She looked, in fact, mildly disappointed in my joke, and I wondered as I pulled the smile from my features, if there was something she wanted to lay out to me, even though she’d sworn there wasn’t. But the look on her face stopped me from throwing out any other asshole comment. There was real worry on her face, mixed with a little disappointment that I was sure I invented.

  “Hey,” I started, holding up a hand to get her attention.

  “No, you’re right.” Kit sat up, dropping her empty bottle to the ground to move it between her feet. “You and I…well, that’s probably not going to work for a lot of reasons, but I have to admit Jess was right.” Kit inhaled, closing her eyes like she needed a second to steel herself before she nodded, looking me squarely in the eyes.

  “I have had a lot of really bad sex. It would be nice to change that. But, I suppose that’s something I’m going to have to figure out with…someone else.”

  It felt like some fuse got lit inside my head. Then came more daydreams, more quick flashes where Kit was on that bed, naked this time, touching her tits, moaning like she couldn’t help herself, like she was so turned on and her pussy was begging to be touched. But it wasn’t me there helping her out. It wasn’t me kissing her, tasting her. That faceless asshole was back and was a fucking god of sex. At least, the noises Daydream Kit made seemed to tell me that.

  I clenched my jaw, the quick surge of fury working through my veins like some jealous asshole who’d just been told his woman didn’t want him anymore. Couldn’t be helped. And even when I grunted a response and stood, picking up the protein bar wrappers and empty bottles of water, stuffing them in my backpack just to keep from saying any damn thing to her, I couldn’t quite manage to keep myself calm.

  “Kane?” she said, her voice sounding worried, maybe a little curious.

  “We need to head back down. You won’t have any breaks in the marathon, and we only have about two hours of daylight left.”

  “Are you okay…”

  “Fine.” Even I didn’t believe me, not with how biting and sharp my tone was. “Let’s just…” I let out a breath, trying to keep the tremble from my hands. “Let’s just head out, all right?”

  “Yeah,” Kit said, but her inflection was dry, a little insulted.

  There was no way around it. I’d have to settle for pissing her off and do my best not to fucking think of the asshole who’d be in Kit’s bed. Whoever he was, I fucking hated him already.

  I was an asshole. And a prick. And a jealous jackass who’d made my best friend feel like nothing. At least, that’s what I thought, and I was pretty sure Kit thought the same thing. It had been a couple of days since that hike in the mountains, and I’d ended the day dropping her off at her place, not saying much because I couldn’t get past the unwarranted anger I felt at Kit wanting to fuck someone who wasn’t me. Even though I knew that would be a bad idea. Sex with her would be bad, not because we’d be bad together, but because it would be good. It would be fucking fantastic. Too good. Too much. Impossible to forget.

  I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t wreck the good stuff we had together.

  “I’ll see you on Monday,” I’d told her when I dropped her off, frowning when she just jumped out of my truck and went into her small rental without even a backward glance. I’d waited for it, even idled in front of her place five minutes after she’d gone inside, but she hadn’t bothered to look out the window or text me later when I was home alone nursing a beer. No “What the fuck is wrong with you?” text or “You get whatever is up your ass out?” Nothing. Nada.

  So, I did the only thing I could do that night. The same thing I’d done when I got home from Lucky’s the night we kissed on the dance floor. I slid back in my king-sized bed, slipped my hand under my shorts, grabbed my cock, and thought about Kit’s sweet lips and sweeter ass.

  But that hadn’t made things better, and two days into our workweek, Kit still seemed irritated with me. I had to do something to make her think I wasn’t an asshole. I mean, she knew I was an asshole, but not to her. Not usually. The perfect opportunity came when that fuckface Bill spotted Kit and me standing a good five feet away, not acknowledging each other as we both listened to Dave, our director, talk about the segment we were about to shoot.

  “So, Kit, you’re going to explain why you wanted the fireplace resurfaced. Don’t forget to mention the broken mortar.” Dave moved his palms up, thumbs touching to make a mock lens as he nodded for Kit to stand next to the reconstructed fireplace surround. “We’ll start with you next to the edge, then you can walk to the front of the hearth, and that’s where Kane will be.”

  The man nodded me over, and I took my position on one knee, holding up the river rock from the floor. Kit had ordered the stone from a company out in Gatlinburg, and we’d only started the rebuild two days ago.

  “Kane, when she comes to your side, relax, answer her questions, and remember not to give too much detail. I want this conversational and…”

  “Flirty,” Bill said, standing behind Dave. The director’s attention went to his producer, and the guy frowned, shoulders lowering as Bill continued. “We’ve discussed this,” he told Dave, waving the man off when he groaned. “Kit, when you walk to Kane’s side, stand real close, maybe touch his arm a little.”

  “Why?” she asked, folding her arms as though she needed somewhere to keep her hands so she wouldn’t tackle the man.

  “The video, remember? The studio will expect…”

  “That’s stupid,” she said, her irritation surfacing when Bill frowned at her. It wasn’t often Kit let anything get to her, but today seemed not to be the day to ruffle her. Bill was too damn stupid to realize that.

  “It’s not stupid,” he told Kit, her glare firm as she stepped up to him. “Look, if the studio wants…”

  “Hold up,” I told him, moving in front of Kit. “Give us a minute, and then we’ll be ready to film.” I glanced at Dave, jerking my chin at him
when the director shrugged, already uninterested in playing up the Kit and Kane flirt fest. To Bill, I cocked up an eyebrow, challenging him with one shift in my expression to pester her again.

  “So fucking stupid,” Kit said when Bill and Dave left us alone. She turned to face the fireplace, kicking one of the loosened stones in the hearth. “I didn’t sign up to do this shit to play up the reality show drama.”

  “I know that,” I said, leaning against the wall as I watched her. “But, you know, more attention might mean more exposure.”

  Kit jerked her gaze to me, her frown tight. “You hate the attention.”

  I nodded, scratching the scruff on my chin. “But you don’t, and what have you always told me? You’d do just about anything to get popular enough to sell your own stuff. This,” I said, motioning to the crew and cameras behind us. “This is a bullshit hurdle, and you know it. Means to an end. You want that little shop in Seattle to sell stuff you design. How many drunk confessions have I heard you making about that shop in the past five years?”

  “And you just wanna build furniture and burn your logo into the underside of each piece.”

  It was true. Kit and I, we weren’t the celebrity types. We wanted to be comfortable, not rich. We wanted to be our own bosses, not run empires. We wanted simple lives that didn’t involve drama. But none of that would come to us if we didn’t work for it, and right now, that meant smiling for the cameras and maybe fanning the flirting flames.

  “I do,” I told her, moving closer to her. For a second, I forgot about the show and the monkey act Bill wanted us to perform. Just then, I only thought about how I could reach out to her, pull her forward, and Kit would fit perfectly right under my chin. She’d rest against me, cheek on my chest, and I’d thread my fingers through her hair. It would take less than ten seconds, and she’d be there. All I had to do was reach out.

  “We ready, guys?” Dave asked, his smile forced.

  “Yeah,” Kit told him, pausing to hold my arm. “I’m sorry about…”

  “Hell no,” I told her, squeezing her fingers back. “That was all me. I, uh, guess I’m a little territorial about you.”

  Kit held her breath, her eyes widening as she watched. “Why?”

  One step and I could reach her. I could bend down and kiss her, give Bill something that would make the studio wet themselves. She had the fullest bottom lip and smelled like honeysuckle.

  I blinked, laughing low to disregard the look she gave me right then. “Hell, Kit, truth is, I’d act that way about anyone you’d want to bring in to help you with your list. I mean, shit, you remember when that jackass contractor came in to help on the lake house two summers ago?”

  “I do,” she said, her head shaking, and I relaxed when she laughed. “I thought you were gonna kill him when he asked if I wanted him to install the beams.”

  I scratched my chin again, relaxing at how easy Kit’s smile was. “See? Territorial.” The lighting guy adjusted the bulbs as the makeup girl came in to touch up our faces. “We’ll do this and give Bill something that will keep him quiet for a while.”

  “Oh?” Kit said, letting the girl fix her lipstick as she focused her attention on my face. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Nothing too drastic.” I bent down, letting the wardrobe guy straighten my collar. “But I can do charming. Passable flirting.”

  “Okay,” she said, taking her place on the mark next to the fireplace. “Let’s see what you got.”

  Shit, I wish she hadn’t said that. I could flirt with her. I could charm millions of random fans who hoped for some sort of hookup between Kit and me. But deep down, when the cameras were off and the lights were dimmed, what I really wanted was to show Kit exactly what I had and how I thought it was all hers.

  Dave yelled “Action,” and we rolled with it. Kit smiled at the camera, a lazy, sweet look that made her seem approachable, real. It was one of the things I liked best about her. She was beautiful, anyone with a pulse and good taste could see that, but she wasn’t made-up or too pretty to be approached. That smile was welcoming, it was genuine, and I guessed that’s what had made her so popular.

  “The hearth was dated, and the brick around the fireplace surround needed something fresh.” She took two steps and stopped at the mark next to me before she nodded. “Speaking of fresh things, Kane, tell me about the stone you used for the fireplace.”

  “River rock from Tennessee,” I started, my grin set because I knew she liked it. Had told me so a half a dozen times. “This ain’t some fancy quarry stone either, Kit.”

  “No?” she asked, taking a half step back when I stood, handing her the stone sample.

  “No, ma’am.” She examined it, then tossed it in the air, and I caught it. “This is one hundred percent Smoky Mountain rock, specifically harvested from Three Forks near Elkmont in Tennessee. We like to use products from the South, as you know.” I tilted my head and moved that smile from grin to smirk. “Prettiest things in the world come from the South.”

  “Is that right?” Her smile widened, and I knew she got where I was headed.

  “Yep.” I leaned closer, tossing the stone back to her. “You’re from the South, right, Ms. Kit?”

  The blush was present, coloring her face, and I laughed right along with the crew as her smile went wide and she nudged me in the ribs.

  “Well,” she said, grabbing the stone out of my hand. “We’ll finish up the fireplace today and then start on the staircase. But first, y’all have to excuse me. There’s an awful lot of BS muddying up the room, and I need to change my boots.”

  “Perfect,” Bill said when Dave cut the shot, and I laughed to myself, watching Kit as she walked away, thinking to myself that, for once, Bill was right.

  She was perfect.

  9

  Kit

  “Why are we here again?” I pushed the overgrown branches aside, following Kane up what seemed like an endless trail.

  He glanced over his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow. “Bucket list,” he grunted before he turned around and marched forward up the mountain.

  The man had been in a sour mood since we finished taping. Bill had dubbed the episode “The Big Flirt.” Kane stayed true to his word, almost knocking me off-kilter a time or two with his innuendo and damn good flirtation. But as soon as the cameras turned off, something inside him shifted, and the flirty, fun Kane disappeared.

  Lifting my backpack higher, I tried to keep up with Kane, but his crankiness had started to wear on me. “We could’ve just pitched a tent behind my rental house.”

  “The list said in the mountains, Kit, not near one.”

  He had a point, but I wasn’t really into the experience. Between the bugs, the uphill climb, and the thought of sleeping under the stars next to a grumpy Kane, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to the next twelve hours of my life.

  Kane came to a quick stop, and I face-planted into his gear, bouncing off him like a ping-pong ball. I started to topple over when he reached back, grabbing me before the weight of my pack pulled me down the trail. “Jesus, woman,” he muttered, still holding the loop at the top of my pack.

  I batted his hand away. “You should give a girl some warning before you stop like that, Kane. I could’ve died.”

  I was being overly dramatic, but if I tumbled down the mountain with the pack strapped to my back in an endless free fall, I would’ve ended up in the ER. Reporters would’ve swarmed us, and I could already see the headlines in the gossip magazines.

  A hint of a smile flashed across his face as he stared down at me and dropped his hand near his side. “I’d never let anything happen to you. You know me better than that.”

  I thought I knew everything there was to know about Kane Kaino, but the last week showed me the exact opposite.

  “This looks like a good spot.”

  “We’re done climbing, then?” I pulled the pack off my back and dropped it to the ground, thankful the hard part was finally over. “Because I’m ready to pass o
ut.”

  “A little physical activity is good for the soul,” Kane said, setting his pack, which was twice as big as mine, near his feet.

  I couldn’t take my gaze off him as he stripped off his shirt and tucked the scrap in his back pocket, something I’d seen him do a million times with very little effect. Maybe it was the way the sunlight streamed through the trees, bouncing off his taut and rock-hard abs that held my attention, but whatever caused the trance, I knew nothing good could come of it. Kane didn’t seem to notice; he bent down, his shoulders now glistening as he started to dig through his backpack.

  “While you collect firewood, I’ll set up camp.”

  “Uh-huh.” I didn’t move, but somehow, I found enough common sense to form a few syllables, though not much else.

  The kiss, the drunken one at the bar, had replayed in my head a million times since it happened. My body pressed against his solid and massive chest as I touched my lips to his soft, lush mouth. A bare-chested Kane kneeling before me hadn’t made the visions stop either, but amplified them.

  “Kit,” he said. “Firewood.”

  I blinked, my feet still frozen to the ground and my gaze glued to his naked flesh. “Yeah,” I whispered and blinked again.

  “You okay?”

  I nodded and pushed away the thought of Kane’s soft, wet lips pressing against mine as his arms settled near my waist. “I’m fine.” I cleared my throat, twisting my body to the side to break eye contact with his bare flesh. “Get a freaking grip,” I whispered to myself, and Kane didn’t seem to notice.

  “It’s going to get cold tonight. We’ll need a fire to keep warm.”

  “Right. I’ll handle the wood.” I grimaced as soon as the words were out of my mouth. The small phrase sounded way more sexual than I expected, and Kane didn’t miss a beat.

  Bent over his pack, Kane glanced upward with a cocked eyebrow. “Yeah?”

 

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