by Landra Graf
He spread his legs apart, his suit jacket no longer an impediment, as he’d taken it off a couple of hours before. “We’re going to do some of them to loosen up.”
“I’m not kicking my own butt, not for anything.”
“Let’s stick with trying to touch your toes and hold the pose for fifteen seconds.”
Leaning over, he resisted the temptation to engage in more flirtation. The kiss he’d envisioned minutes before might change her mind. Dangerous ideas. When he stood straight once more, he got a marvelous view of the curvature of Kat’s spine. It shouldn’t have looked so appealing, but it did.
She’d changed into a pair of yoga pants and T-shirt as soon as they’d returned to her house. He didn’t blame her and wished he’d dressed a little more casually for the day. But suits were armor and gave him a barrier, a persona to live behind of the professional image consultant. If he let go of that part of him, he’d be a regular guy, free to do what he wanted, ask for more when he shouldn’t.
Kat arched upward and sighed as she came fully upright.
“It works doesn’t it?”
“A bit,” she replied with an emerging smile. “This whole party thing has me in knots. I’m so afraid I’m going to jam up, make myself look like a fool.”
He could tell. “Stretch your arms over your head and reach for the ceiling.”
They both followed his directions. When they put their arms down, she sighed a big, long breath of air. “It’s no use. I’m wound up, and the stretching isn’t helping.”
“I’m no big fan of parties, and you’re right. You could make yourself look foolish and silly, but you’re putting a ton of fear into the worst case scenarios. Don’t think about then, think about now.”
“There’s a lot to remember.” She yawned, and he grabbed his phone from his pocket to check the time. After eight in the evening.
“Let’s take a step back. Instead of trying to figure all this out at once, let’s work on one person a day. Four guys, that’s Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and then the party. Little goals each day.”
She nodded in agreement, processing his suggestion. “What about the conversation parts?”
“My job is to get that piece rolling. I’ll introduce you to each member. The biggest thing is to make sure to compliment the work they’ve done and point out their latest accomplishment. It grounds you with them, allows them to know that you’re aware of who they are. For Richard and Hugh, this will create instant respect. Jim will take such a thing as an ego shot. Colton, on the other hand, we’ll talk about him before the party. He’s a bit different.”
“Rich, charity-giving men often are.” This time, she wobbled a bit, and he reached for her on instinct. “I’m good, just tired.”
They both looked at the point where his hand wrapped around her bicep. His grip was secure but gentle. Her muscle tensed and relaxed underneath his hold. When their gazes connected, he caught the flair of desire lingering, slowly spreading. He’d been getting tired too, but now he was wide awake.
“Are you sure?”
“Sure?” She repeated the word, letting it emerge slowly. Her other hand came up to wrap around a lock of his hair.
He may have shuddered; he wasn’t sure, but his eyes closed as he momentarily savored the closeness, the indulgence. All he needed to do was tug her toward him, and they’d spiral into something. A hot mess. Which might be worth it.
“How do you get it so soft?” Her question brought his eyes open, and he watched the pulse at the base of her neck start to pound. He wanted to feel it, and so he did.
Releasing his grasp, he trailed his fingertips up her arm. “It’s a special conditioner. Nothing fancy.” A few more seconds and he’d touch bare skin. “Tell me to stop, Kat.”
She whispered, “Don’t stop.”
The first contact he made with her skin was damn near electric. He expected sparks to fly, but instead her skin acted like his opposite, cool and smooth. His hands were warm. She moaned as he massaged her hands, then spread his palms upward over her arms.
“Why do I want this?” Her question, most likely rhetorical, came out with a bit of anguish.
“Forbidden fruit... I can’t be with another client, and you’re my partner’s cousin.” At those sobering thoughts, he backed up. “We want what we can’t have, a simple explanation.”
“Sure, simple.” She reached up, wrapping her hand around her throat, and he wanted to reclaim the territory from her, to mark it as his. “Best we call it a night, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’d say some other things, but it’d put me in a position I can’t afford.” He walked over to the love seat and grabbed his jacket. Slipping back into his wool and silk armor, he warded himself from falling prey to his lust again. It was the honorable approach for him to take, but why did being the honorable one suck? She walked him to the front door, and as he started his way down the steps, she called out to him.
“You’re wrong, labeling what this is between us... You made it forbidden. Just remember I’m willing to label it an opportunity.” Then she shut the door.
13
The workday had been brutal enough for Kat to crack open a cold one after she’d changed out of her work clothes and into a T-shirt and yoga pants. No more one-piece romper for her. The doorbell chimed right as she took the second sip of her beer and picked up her flash cards on the Beautification Board.
She set the bottle down and ran her fingers through her hair. Maybe she should’ve kept her romper on to show off her dressing talents to Dev. Therein lay her problem. Since their close call the other night, her body had entered a state of hyperawareness when it came to him. They’d spent the previous evening together, and every movement or action by his body had caught her eye. Ridiculous really, she’d been a virgin until her junior year in high school, which in some weird way should have translated into the ability to abstain from lust, want, and the male body.
Opening the front door, it was like déjà vu. Her nipples tightened underneath her T-shirt at the sight of his suit-clad body, his long hair pulled back in the ponytail, and the trace of a five-o’clock shadow on his cheeks.
Dev held up two bags of takeout boxes. “I hope you like Thai food.”
“Red chicken curry?”
“You’re becoming a mind reader now. That’s my favorite, but I also picked up some pad thai with shrimp and tofu.”
“Please bring all the delicious food inside.” Kat stepped back and let him pass, then she went to the kitchen to collect plates, forks, and napkins. As she turned around, she ran right into Dev.
“Whoa, there. Need any help?” He outstretched his arms to steady her. She noticed how close they were, how this looked orchestrated on his part.
“I’m good. Did you want anything to drink?”
He still hadn’t broken the connection of his hands braced around her forearms. The gaze he leveled at where their bodies connected made her nervous, and she attempted to pull away. Thankfully, he let her go. “Beer would be good.”
“In the fridge, on the door. I’ve got a couple of local craft brews in there.” She had to yell since she’d hightailed it out of the kitchen to avoid the lingering tension.
Fuck.
The whole comment she’d made the other night about them being an opportunity, not forbidden— shit. She’d thrown the gauntlet down. Regardless, the statement had seemed to make things worse. In a way, that made things better. Lines were blurred, a bit confusing, and they acted a little awkward around each other. She warred between pushing him further or keeping a safe distance.
Dev walked back into the living room, open beer in hand. “How about you serve up your plate and I’ll start quizzing you?”
Grabbing a plate and opening the first container in the bag, she nodded her agreement.
“Okay, Jim Hunt, what’s he most famous for?”
A big scoop of red chicken curry plopped onto her plate. “He’s notorious for his charity work with—”
The doorbell chime echoed throughout the room.
“Expecting company?” Dev set his beer down and moved toward the front entryway.
“No, and contractors aren’t scheduled to do more work until this weekend. Maybe it’s a salesman; could you tell them I don’t watch cable television?”
She heard the door open, Dev’s greeting, and then a female voice. She waited, placing the carton of food back on the table. The front door shut, and two pairs of feet could be heard.
“Kat.” Dev rounded the corner looking apologetic. “She said she wouldn’t leave without making sure you were breathing and conscious.”
Betty followed him into the room wrapped up in a maroon jacket and black slacks, her blond tresses swept up into a fancy updo with a pair of chopsticks—her signature look. “Because Kat doesn’t have a boyfriend and isn’t inviting men over to her house except for contractors. Unless there’s a new business in town, contractors don’t wear expensive, tailored suits.”
She’d been a little vague when her friends had asked how she was spending her weekends, and even though she’d mentioned her cousin to Betty, she’d never gone into detail on the favor she’d owe in return for the money.
“Hi, friend,” Kat said while she grabbed a fork from the cutlery on the table.
“Hi, yourself. Is that red chicken curry?”
Kat nodded and lifted up the plate she’d loaded down but failed to take a bite from. “Want some?”
“Yes, please.” Betty sat down on the couch next to her and grabbed a plate and a fork. She picked out all the chicken, dropping it back into the container.
“I’m Devid Esposito.” Her smoking hot dinner companion stuck out his hand to Betty, which she took in a brief but sturdy shake.
“Hello, sorry for my lack of manners. It’s been a long day, which I’m sure Kat mentioned, and we starved ourselves trying to get everything done. No lunch break at all.”
“She didn’t mention it.” He grabbed his beer and headed off to the kitchen. “I’m going to get another plate.”
The look on his face, a combo of surprise and hurt, reminded her how there were plenty of elements of their individual lives they hadn’t shared with each other. They worked together on this one piece. The day job crap and other mundane aspects of their worlds were still kept separate from everything else.
“He’s hot,” Betty whispered between bites of her chicken-less curry. “So who is he?”
“I can’t explain right now, but he’s helping me save my house.”
“Oh, really? So you won’t need the money?”
Kat shook her head, scooping the discarded chicken and more of the curry onto her plate. “Not exactly, I’ll still need the money, probably… I don’t know. At this point the idea is to get the city off my back, to get them to ease the deadline dates.”
“How?”
Good question. One she didn’t have the answer for. Dev talked about her pleading her case to the rest of the decision-makers on Pru’s project, but what would they do? Make a few phone calls and get the city’s inspection board to back off, to cancel the inspection and her violations? The specifics had never been discussed; there were also no guarantees.
“We’re still working on those details.”
“What details?” Dev came back with another fork, another plate, and two extra beers. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to drink, but I grabbed a bottle of each beer Kat had.”
He offered the two to Betty, and she grinned up at him—one of her perfect grins—and a twinge of jealousy rocked through Kat, the emotion fierce and sudden. “Either one works. Most of the brands Kat enjoys, I enjoy, too.”
Dev didn’t respond to her friend’s version of the megawatt. Shockingly, he pulled his keys out of his pocket and popped the cap with a bottle opener from his key chain. Of course this suave, ready-for-anything man kept a bottle opener on his key chain. “Here you go.”
Betty murmured her thanks, and then Dev crouched down in front of the coffee table to make his plate.
“So ladies, what details?”
“The ones about how you’re going to save Kat’s house.”
Damn Betty and her big mouth. As Dev’s focus strayed to the carton of pad thai and getting it scooped onto the plate without spilling it on her rug, Kat nudged Betty with her elbow.
“What?” Betty mouthed silently.
The pad thai carton plopped onto the coffee table, then Dev rocked back on his heels to a standing position, picked up his plate, and took a seat on the loveseat across the room, fork in hand. “Excellent question, and our goal is to get Kat face time with all the members of the triple B at their celebration dinner. If she can convince them her house would be better spared, left alone, then they will call off the city’s hounds.”
“But if they don’t?” Her friend was voicing all of her fears, the concerns she’d been shoving into the back of her mind, ignoring.
“We can cross that bridge if we come to it.”
Everyone ate in silence for a moment, and the possibilities, the fear, sunk deep into her bones. There were no promises, no expectations, just estimations of what might happen. She could go to this party and look like an idiot and be treated by these people like she’d been treated by her parents, dismissed and ignored.
“What are my chances?” The question came out sounding a little more serious than she intended.
Dev didn’t answer right away. This time, she looked at him as he chewed a bite of his dinner, eyes on her and calm as lake water on a windless day. “Excellent, but they increase exponentially the more information you know about the board members and the more confidence you feel. The fear in your eyes right now, the doubt, it’s got to get kicked to the curb, or we’ve lost before we’ve even begun.”
“Are you scared, Kat?” Betty reached over and rested a hand on top of hers.
She set her plate down on the coffee table and took a deep breath in an attempt to dispel the demon eating her up. “Yes, I’m scared shitless. This is my house, my safe place, and some crazy woman is trying to take it away. I’m sorry, not trying—she is taking it away from me. I’ve got one shot to talk to a bunch of dudes I’ve never met and convince them to go against their partner’s wishes to save this material thing that has no value to them, no significance. It’s a lot of pressure.”
Dev stood up and crossed the room. He placed his plate next to hers and leaned down opposite of Betty. “Kat, look at me.”
She looked up, meeting those deep brown eyes of his. The safety she experienced when around him reflected back at her, and the determination in his face washed over her.
“You’ve got more than a chance, trust me. I wouldn’t be helping you if I didn’t believe we can get your house saved.”
“Thank you.” Those were the only words she could muster, and she wanted to believe him and to see the woman he saw because she must’ve been something special to earn such faith and dedication.
He could still see her doubt; she sensed it when he pulled away and stood up. Reaching behind his neck, he adjusted his ponytail. “Tell you what, take the rest of the evening to rest. Download a bit since you’ve had a long day at work. Review the flashcards if you want to. We can pick things up tomorrow night.”
Betty patted her hand. “I think that’s a good idea, and I can stick around if you change your mind and want to do a little studying. I’m staying to finish this delicious curry, but I’ll help in whatever capacity.”
Kat laughed a small chuckle, which was what Betty’d intended, if her smile was any indication. “Thank you, both of you.”
“No problem. I mean to be helpful, not stressful. Text me later if you need me.” Dev grabbed the carton of pad thai. “I’m taking this delicious stuff with me. You ladies can keep the red curry.”
Then he left, out the door without another word. His lingering invitation to text replayed in her head, something he’d never offered to her before, a chance to talk over the phone outside of their working partners
hip.
As soon as the front door clicked into place, Betty got up and peeked around the living room corner, appearing to check and make sure he was really gone. “All right, Kat, no more keeping secrets to yourself. What the hell is going on?”
Dev pressed send on the last email for the day and started the process of closing down every open window and file on his computer. Picking up his phone, he checked for messages. No luck. Kat hadn’t bothered to reach out to him at all. He’d hoped she’d give him a shot, a chance to be the person she’d voice her concerns too.
Until Betty had shown up and raised those questions, he never would’ve suspected Kat’s fears about the party. She’d put up a good, positive face on the surface. Deep down her fears swirled around like a slow, invading infection. Something he couldn’t fight. Only she could, and he believed she’d defeat it with the right motivation. Sex is not an option for motivation.
Even if he wanted it to be, those thoughts were based purely on how much he wanted her, a separate concept from the party and the goal to save her house. How could he win both battles? Defeat the dragon, win the princess, and save his kingdom?
A knock came on his office door, and Victoria didn’t wait for his acknowledgment before she opened up.
“You have a visitor.” Her face, all wide eyes without the usual displeased smirk, told him she was surprised.
He pushed himself out of his seat ready to greet Kat, to be a comfort and a support center, but when Victoria stepped to the side, his sister Juanita came forward. The smile he’d held faded, and he tried his best to tamp his reaction.
“Don’t look so disappointed, mi hermano. I’m here to find out what’s become of you.”
Victoria crept out of the room, no doubt wanting to avoid being dragged into the conversation. She shut the door behind her, giving him privacy with his sister. In the years since they’d worked together, she’d become familiar with his family. They were a close bunch, and the fact that his younger sister had shown up, instead of his mother, served as the warning salvo.
