The Party Girl

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The Party Girl Page 23

by Tamara Morgan


  “I can’t believe you’re going to ignore an opening like that one.” She shook her head sadly. If he was going to focus so heavily on a flirtation, it could at least be their own. “Sexual innuendo is kind of my specialty.”

  “No kidding?” Some of the frown lifted away, and he dazzled her with his direct stare. “Is this where I’m supposed to say something about other kinds of openings?”

  “You could start there. Then maybe we could move on to spooning under the table.”

  “Or how moist and delicious the cream sauce is?”

  “Better.” She laughed and tapped her finger on her chin. “Juicy peaches?”

  “Pie-eating contest?”

  “There’s got to be one about a meat thermometer in there somewhere.”

  Noah grabbed her leg under the table and gave it a squeeze. It was more of a grateful squeeze than a sexual one, but her body didn’t seem able to tell the difference, running hot and cold all at once. She bit back a sigh of longing. It would be far too easy to get carried away with this man in a public place.

  “This is a restaurant with four forks,” she admonished. “Behave yourself.”

  He didn’t pull back. In fact, he leaned in, his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “What am I allowed to do in a restaurant with only two forks?”

  “Take me to one, and you might find out.”

  “Forget that.” Noah finally lifted his hand away and placed it back on the table. She tried to stifle the surge of desire she felt at seeing them sit there, work-worn and totally wasted on cress salad and silver-plated flatware. “Next time, I’m taking you somewhere we eat with our hands.”

  Oh, man. That sounded barbaric and perfect and completely him. And she would have gladly run out the door to find the nearest taco truck to put that threat to good use, but the waitress chose that moment to arrive with their entrées.

  It was probably for the best. Noah had shown himself to be surprisingly adept at this high-class date thing—so much so that she was dangerously close to demanding he come to the real world more often. He held doors, put a possessive hand on the small of her back when they walked. He was polite to their waitress. And he looked ruggedly out of place among the other diners, an unpolished stone among too many glittering gems.

  But he’d already made it more than clear that he didn’t like being pushed too far out of his comfort zone. Kendra was nothing if not cautious.

  “So,” she said brightly, turning her attention to the pair across the table. Now that the distraction of the food had arrived, it seemed as good a time as any to address the real reason they’d all come out tonight. “When does the new semester start, Nikki?”

  Overprotective big sister wasn’t Kendra’s favorite role to play, but Nikki had been sent here to recover from a less-than-desirable love affair, not to fall headfirst into a new one. Lincoln, bless him, was not the sort of man one dragged home to the parents. He was a great fling, an okay lover, a breath of fresh air for a girl out looking for a good time. But he’d been bleeding from the abdomen less than a month ago. And he’d set a pack of criminals on her tail. And he wasn’t even gainfully employed at the moment. Surely she was allowed to take those things into consideration when it came to her baby sister.

  “Two weeks,” Nikki replied, her voice cool. “As you well know.”

  Kendra ignored the daggers being slung her way and tucked into her herbed risotto. This place had amazing vegetarian entrees, light and delicious—unlike the large piece of meat currently bleeding all over Noah’s plate. “Did you buy your return ticket already, or did you want me to cover it? I think I have some miles left over. I can probably bump you to first class.”

  Lincoln fell into a frown. “You’re leaving in two weeks?”

  “In first class,” Kendra added helpfully, never one to overlook the advantages of hot nuts and complimentary champagne.

  “I was going to mention it,” Nikki said, soothing Lincoln with a pat on the hand. “I have to get back to grad school or my family will kill me. This is meant to be a short visit.”

  “Where do you go to school?”

  “New York University.”

  “She’s an engineering major,” Kendra said, not without pride. Her sister had a head for spatial problems that put the rest of the Khuso family to shame. “If she’d stay at school for longer than half a semester at a time, she could probably graduate early.”

  “Can we talk about something else, please?”

  “Of course,” Kendra said, happy to oblige. As long as everyone at the table understood the score, she had no problems with how things proceeded. “Did you and Lincoln have plans for tomorrow, or did you maybe want to go shopping with me after work?”

  Noah watched the exchange between the sisters quietly, unsettled at what he saw—a show he assumed was meant for both him and Lincoln, a show Kendra was directing with a heavy hand. Don’t forget, boys, Nikki has a life elsewhere.

  He closed his eyes and swallowed heavily. How could he have allowed things to get to this point? Nikki was a temporary fix to their problem, a convenient way to assuage his guilt and still get what he wanted. A roiling in his gut took place of the warm, happy glow of what had to be his first real steak in half a decade, and he finally relinquished his hold on the fork.

  Surprise, surprise. It was starting to look as though jumping into bed with Kendra wasn’t the smartest thing to have done—it only opened the door for more complications, more pain. This was what happened when Noah let pleasure cloud his better judgment. This was what happened when he allowed himself to be dazzled by the promises of more.

  “I have to work tomorrow, actually,” Lincoln said.

  “You do?” Work was good. Work was great. No one knew the benefits of throwing your back into the pain quite like Noah. “What happened?”

  “Oh, nothing much.” Lincoln sat back and smacked his lips, raising his glass of sparkling water in a one-sided toast. “Just that I had that little talk with my CI earlier today, and he’s proving himself to be surprisingly cooperative. They want me to come in with him tomorrow. You’re looking at a goddamn local hero.”

  “I’ve never slept with a hero before,” Nikki said, clearly pleased.

  “Yes, well. I’ve never slept with a man who owns a goat before,” Kendra said, joining the toast. “We’re living in strange times, sister dear. Strange times indeed.”

  Noah gulped and did his best to look happy for his friend, but he hit dangerously wide of the mark. The truth was that he only wished this scenario felt strange to him. The underlying sounds of tableside service and the tinkle of glasses being raised in a celebration were all too familiar, smothering him with memories and the warm rush of triumphs both personal and professional. So too did the gorgeous woman at his side fill some empty part of his heart he thought he’d buried long ago. She was the life and laughter he’d been missing for so long, a reminder that his quiet, understated life would never feel complete while he lived it alone.

  But perhaps most discomfiting of all was that for the first time in five years, he wondered if maybe it had been a mistake to throw it all away. This wasn’t just a matter of withstanding temptation anymore—he’d already slipped and fallen, was on his way, spiraling down.

  And he wasn’t sure how he could ever get back up again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Who’s taking care of Goat while you’re away?” Kendra led the way into her house with a hesitant step. She’d never been self-conscious about her living space before, but she’d also never walked through the door and seen things through the eyes of a man who would rather make coffee in a jar than give in to the lure of modern conveniences. All of a sudden, there were too many throw pillows, too many layers of wispy curtains, too many high-end appliances she almost never used. And the urge to straighten the stack of bills on the
kitchen counter and run a vacuum cleaner over the already immaculate floor was an overpowering one, leaving her grasping for things to say. “And what about your chickens? Don’t they drown if they’re left out in the rain?”

  “You’re thinking of turkeys,” Noah said. He leaned on the doorframe as if hesitant to cross the line between his world and hers. “And they don’t actually do that. It’s an urban legend.”

  “It’s a rural legend, you mean. City turkeys would definitely drown.”

  “The only city turkeys I know of are the ones that live in a freezer.”

  Kendra gestured for him to enter and refused to speak until his heavy tread made its way to her living room. “Well, what about poor Goat?” she asked when he finally came inside, though he only went as far as the living room’s edge. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to her.”

  “You seem awfully concerned about a creature you called, and I quote, ‘a cloven-hooved demon of destruction.’ I still can’t figure out how you can be a vegetarian and have such a low tolerance for animals.”

  “It’s easy. Do you eat people?”

  He came a step further. “Of course I don’t.”

  “But you choose not to interact with the vast majority of them. Just because you prefer not to associate with people doesn’t mean you want to have them for dinner.”

  He chuckled, now all the way inside her living room. She felt almost as though she were using crumbs of laughter to lead in a shy puppy. “That’s the worst metaphor I’ve ever heard.”

  “You’re just saying that because I’m right.” Now that he was safely ensconced within her four walls, she dropped the teasing act. “I’m allowed to worry about Goat being all alone out there. Your house is a lonely place for any of the world’s creatures.”

  Noah took a deep breath, not failing to catch Kendra’s meaning—or the sincerity that dragged her voice down a notch. Goat. The chickens. Wayward deer. Himself. They were all the same to her, all wandering the stark wilderness in search of more comfortable lodgings.

  “I can see right through you,” he said. Unhappy with the distance between them, he took her hand and led her to her couch. It was a fluffy beige concoction they sank into so deeply she landed almost in his lap. He used her proximity as an excuse to run a hand through her hair, playing with the silken strands, finding the gesture both soothing and mildly alarming. He’d been away from normal relationships for so long, he was practically petting her like a dog.

  “I never claimed to be a mystery.”

  “Then you admit you’re trying to tempt me back to the modern world, showing me your house and taking me to fancy dinners?”

  “You paid,” she pointed out. “And you drove. That was officially your date.”

  “That wasn’t mine.” He twisted a lock of hair around his finger and tugged, bringing her close, her body molding to fit his. She was warm and soft and so very present. Yet another thing for him to get used to: the proximity of someone who reveled in human contact, of being able to touch her whenever he wanted. And he wanted to. All the time. “If it was my date, there would have been a picnic blanket and a sunset and a bottle of wine you’d have to open with a screwdriver. I’d hand-feed you strawberries plucked right off the bush. We’d stay outside until it got too cold and we were forced to warm up the old-fashioned way.”

  Kendra wrapped her arms around his neck. “Don’t worry so much. I can enjoy all those things too.” She nuzzled his jawline, her lips nibbling, tongue teasing. “Especially that last bit.”

  “But for how long?” He pushed her gently back, needing distance to clarify his thoughts.

  The distance only served to frustrate Kendra, and she stiffened in his arms. “Does it really matter? Do we need to come up with a timeline of proposed events? A sex itinerary? Is that the only way this will work?”

  “You certainly seem to think that’s the case with Lincoln and your sister.”

  She stiffened even more, so rigid he could almost put his hands around her and snap her in two. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You didn’t mention that your sister would be leaving so soon.”

  “It was implied. That’s what a visiting relative generally does. Leaves.”

  “And did you stop to think what’s going to happen to Lincoln when she does?” Now it was Noah’s turn to grow stiff, but Kendra didn’t move out of his lap. It was a strange combination—the warm spots where their bodies met, the tension that crackled where they didn’t. “He’s okay right now, what with his work situation going well and your sister around, but what happens when that goes away? Without someone shiny and pretty to distract him, I honestly don’t know how well he’ll cope with us being together.”

  Kendra blinked, almost dazed as she got up off the couch and away from him. “Intelligent. Funny. Vivacious. Loves knitting. Hates those boats with the glass bottoms. Wicked good at racquetball.”

  “What?”

  “Nikki. My sister. A person I dearly love.” The tension in the air only grew, so thick Noah felt he was suffocating. “She’s not just shiny and pretty. Is that all you see when you look at her? Is that all you see when you look at me?”

  “Of course not,” he said, but the words came too fast to carry the weight of truthfulness. He sounded rushed, flustered, guilty. “But he’s known her all of, what, four days? How much depth could they have possibly reached by now?”

  “I don’t know, Noah. I guess it depends on how hard he’s willing to work to get past all that makeup and glitter caked on the outside. Lincoln sure has his work cut out for him, doesn’t he?”

  “Don’t be mad.” It was a ridiculous request, seeing as how quickly he was clamoring onboard the anger train himself. “You know I think there’s more to you than your looks.”

  “Do I?”

  “You should.” He firmed his jaw and gestured around him, at the pastel-colored walls and expensive-looking artwork and surfaces covered in decorative vases. It was bright and girly and clean, making him feel like not just a bull but an ogre in a china shop. “It’s no use pretending you aren’t used to having nice things, that you aren’t accustomed to a higher standard of living, and I refuse to tiptoe around it. Do I think you’re pretty and shiny? Of course I do. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

  She opened her mouth to speak but Noah kept going, afraid that if he stopped now, he’d never find the right time or place or guts to say this again. “You’re also all those things you see in your sister. Intelligent. Funny. Vivacious. Though I have a hard time imagining you with a pair of knitting needles.” He was rewarded with a laugh, though the flash of anger didn’t entirely leave her eyes. “Look—you and I both know there’s no future that could comfortably contain the two of us for very long. Me and my dirt, you and your lack of it. There is no middle ground, and that’s fine. We can play out this attraction in whatever way you want, for however long you want. But Lincoln isn’t like that. He doesn’t have the benefit of my expertise in this area.”

  “Expertise?”

  Shit. He’d said the wrong thing, let too much of his inner self out. See how much easier life was when you didn’t bother talking to people at all?

  “Oh, I get it,” she said. “You mean expertise in handling women who are so materialistic they’d stop at nothing to get what they want. You mean women who are too shiny and frivolous to have feelings.”

  “Dammit, Kendra. That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and he realized she’d said that on purpose. She was tricking him, trapping him—and here, in this house, surrounded by too much of her and too little space, he had nowhere to hide.

  “Then tell me what you did mean. Speak slowly and use small words. You know how easy it is for superficial women like me to get distracted.”

  “You want me to say it?” He flung the words at h
er, heedless of where they landed. “Fine. I know what it means to fall for a woman who’s beautiful and brilliant and unafraid to let the world know it. I know how impossible it is for me to keep up with everything you want and need and do—and I also know what happens if I try.”

  She didn’t move except to glower down at him defiantly. He could be up from the couch in an instant, able to overpower her in a matter of seconds, but she showed no fear. Only challenge. “Why, Noah? What is it? What do you think is going to happen if you let me in?”

  He didn’t reply. Partly because he didn’t think the answer—that he’d let himself be blinded by life, by her, until he lost everything—was one she wanted to hear, but also because he couldn’t keep himself from springing to his feet. Without thinking, without planning, only feeling, he pushed her up against the wall and devoured her with a kiss. He unleashed a fury he’d been only partially aware of harboring in the first place, forcing his way into her mouth with a possessive growl and a masterful sweep of his tongue.

  His hands didn’t stray from her upper arms as he held her pinned against the wall. The force of his own strength against her left him no freedom to explore her body, but he found little urge to do so. It was enough to press his weight against hers and feel her open underneath him, not intimidated by his assault in the least. Oh, no. Not Kendra. She was encouraging him. Wriggling, moaning, letting him in.

  She fucking loved this.

  “I never had a chance, did I?” he asked, groaning the words into her lips, her neck, the intoxicating space where her hair met skin. Without waiting for an answer, he lowered one hand and hitched her knee up, opening the vee of her legs even more as he pushed himself between her thighs. “From the moment you showed up at my front door in nothing but that goddamned robe, I was doomed.”

 

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