by Cari Quinn
Having voices around him again in the waning hours of the day fulfilled him in ways he hadn’t expected. He even liked the damn bird’s happy muttering. He’d taken to feeding him crackers early in the morning before he went to work, long before the others rose. Telly wanted them, so why not? Self-denial wasn’t something he advocated for anyone anymore. Apparently that also included birds.
“What time’s your shift today?”
“Six. Bob had to drive his wife up to Jefferson. She has an appointment with a specialist for her back problem.”
“Oh that’s good. Lindy’s a sweetheart.” She frowned, the faint sunlight highlighting her features. God, she was gorgeous. Not just because of her looks. There was an intelligence in her gaze and a compassion he doubted she was even aware of. Her independence and inner strength only intensified his attraction. “I’ve been meaning to bring her over a couple of casseroles. She could use the help with dinners. I’ll do that tonight after work.”
“You cook?” He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Woman of many talents.”
“Ha. Not really. I can make a few casseroles, a mean omelet and a fancy cake here or there. If you’re looking for the domestic type, she ain’t me.” Her head snapped up. “Not that I’m saying you’re looking for anything. Or that I’m implying that we’re—”
“Shh.” He slid his finger over her lips, pleased when she nipped him gently, eyes never leaving his. “We are a we’re right now. Don’t overanalyze. I’m not.”
Her shoulders relaxed and she sucked his finger for a moment before letting it pop free. “Okay. Just saying I’m good with it being easy. You know, between us. I’m not expecting more than we have.”
His chest tightened as she rested her head on his chest. Words hesitated on his tongue but he didn’t say them. Maybe I am.
Chapter Eleven
Sara peered at her reflection in the cheval mirror. “How do I look?”
Kim studied the back of the long white gown with a fitted waist and sweetheart neckline. Tiny seed pearls decorated the bodice and short train. They’d lucked out finding something so lovely on such short notice. It helped that the woman who wore the dress shimmered brighter than any jewel.
“Like a fairy princess with bags under her eyes from not sleeping for three nights due to wedding worrying. In other words, awesome.”
“I see why Brad calls you the Kiminator,” Sara muttered, adjusting her veil. “Knocked down in two sentences flat.”
“Oh stop it. You’re absolutely gorgeous and I’m completely jealous because your waist is the size of my thigh. Guess I should look into some of those Zumba classes too.” Kim turned her best friend toward her and fussed with the tendril curls hanging in Sara’s expressive hazel eyes. “Brad’s going to die when he sees you.”
“I certainly hope not. That would put a damper on the honeymoon.”
Kim laughed and wrapped her arms around Sara, doing a little happy dance. “You’re going to be my sister for real. I can’t believe it.”
Sara sniffled and cupped Kim’s cheek. “I already was.”
“Oh crap. Here we go. And I was doing so well.” Kim waved a hand in front of her eyes. “Non-smear-proof mascara, okay? Don’t go there. No crying. All smiles. Speaking of smiling, check out that honker.” She seized Sara’s hand to ogle her round sapphire and diamond sparkler. “Kid brother did good.”
“He did.” Sara gave another misty sniff. “I tried to tell him I wanted something small but he didn’t listen.”
“He’s not supposed to when it comes to rings. Remember, bigger is always better in regards to rings, dicks and plates of barbeque. Anything else is negotiable.”
Sara laughed and glanced at Kim’s silver maid-of-honor dress. “Sorry I didn’t fulfill your ugly gown request. That looks incredible on you.”
“It’s the corset. Makes everything seem tight and perky. Gotta love the illusion.”
“No, it’s you. You’ve got that good sex glow going on.” Sara tilted her head. “So are you planning on moving Michael in or just playing sleepover buddies for a while?”
Kim skirted around her to pick up the blue handkerchief she’d pulled out of her grandmother’s old trunk for Sara. Grandma Cora had carried it in her own wedding. But instead of handing it over, she fingered the lacy fabric and stalled. “It’s only been a few weeks. I barely know the guy.”
“Then why is he practically living in your bedroom? Every morning I come downstairs and find him making breakfast and singing to Telmeister. I think my bird’s got a new love.”
Kim’s lips twitched. “He is pretty lovable.”
“Uh-huh. Evidence number sixty-nine that you have the serious hots for your shop stud. And let me add my encouragement to that. Mechanics give good lube.”
Kim snorted. “Moving past the serious ick factor of you referring to my baby brother that way, I should point out he’s not in my league.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning he was a virgin when we met.”
“A virgin. Wow. You didn’t see fit to tell me this before?”
Kim shrugged and fussed with her hair. She couldn’t decide if her bun made her look matronly instead of formal. Being with a younger guy was exhausting. At least this younger guy since she had the specter of his former significant other to compete with—or not compete with, since she wanted there to be no comparisons at all between them. She intended to be the fun, lively girlfriend. Which she was naturally, until she overthought.
Fuck a duck.
“It never came up,” Kim said to the mirror, not meeting Sara’s gaze.
“But according to your dining room announcement, he’s not a virgin now, right?”
“Uh no.”
“Which, correct me if I’m wrong, kind of means you can…mold him in your own image. Train him right.” Sara grinned and patted Kim’s shoulder. “Sounds like the bonus round to me.”
All at once the conversation she’d had with Michael that day next to Telly’s cage came screaming back into focus. “Manipulation is one of those words people throw around to try to explain choices that defy convention. I was over eighteen. I knew what I was doing.”
Nausea swam in her belly and climbed up her throat. She wasn’t like Rochelle. He didn’t need to be manipulated or molded. The guy was perfect as is, with all of his endearing quirks. That’s what she’d meant by him not being in her league. He had no issue with keeping up with her sexually—whoa nelly, that was so not a problem—but his virginity spoke of an innocence that went beyond the physical. In spite of whatever good game he talked, he still believed in love. Still wanted it in his life. He was the kind of man who planned on forever. Steadfast. Honorable.
Basically, the anti-Kim.
She might be a good bet for today but for tomorrow? Next week? It was hard to say. Judging from her past track record, the odds weren’t good. She’d start picking fights and looking for flaws right before she made tracks for the door.
He’d already gotten a raw deal by her standards from the whole Rochelle situation, money aside. Yeah, that part was pretty great but he saved his money for his family and rarely spent any on himself. His truck was ten years old, for pity’s sake. Goodness like his shouldn’t be tainted by her crazy. The longer she led him on, the harder it would be when she inevitably let him go. He deserved a woman who still dreamed on stars and saw the world as her oyster rather than an overcooked scallop.
“How do you do it?” Kim whispered, staring at her reflection. Sure, she didn’t have a ton of wrinkles yet. But any day now… “How do you get past thinking he’s settling by being with you?”
“Now there’s exactly what any woman wants to hear on her wedding day,” Sara said wryly, shaking her head. “Considering you look like you’re about to start sobbing, I’ll give you a pass.”
“It’s just wedding tears. You know.”
“Sure it is.” Sara sighed. “I do it by listening to him when he tells me he loves me. I see it in his eyes when we to
uch. I do my best to be a good partner to him as he does for me. It’s not about cellulite or gray hair or bags under the eyes. Which I do not have, thank you very much. You’re lucky I love you or else I’d have to shiv you on my wedding day.”
Kim had to laugh as she turned to embrace her best friend. “You’re right.” And she was, for her and Brad. They’d known each other for years. Their love had been tested. She didn’t have any right thinking such deep thoughts about her and Michael when he might be halfway to hitting the road for all she knew.
Even if he kept casually but not casually mentioning the roominess of Kim’s house and how it would feel even bigger after Brad and Sara moved away. All coincidental like.
Even if she’d sort of cleaned out two drawers for him and began stocking his preferred brand of cereal and toothpaste.
Even if he stayed over every night—and she wanted him there.
None of that had to mean any more than she wanted it to. At the moment, she wanted it to mean she was dating a nice guy who had an uncanny ability at fucking her into oblivion. Not because she’d trained him—she’d given up such insanity early on after it became apparent his instincts were better than any instruction she could provide—but because he cared enough about her to take his time and always consider her needs.
She only hoped she would continue to do the same.
“You’re right,” Kim repeated, tucking the blue handkerchief into Sara’s hand. “Now let’s go get you married.”
Sara’s eyes filled. “Am I ready?” She gestured to herself. “Do I look okay?”
“You look like a dream and my brother’s one hell of a lucky SOB.”
Sara grinned. “He is, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” Kim held out her arm. “Let’s take you to Brad.”
Sara nodded, face glowing. Her tears gleamed on her lashes like tiny diamonds, making Kim’s heart turn over in her chest. “Yes. Let’s.”
The ceremony went by too fast. They’d staged it in the living room of their home, only inviting their closest friends and family. Sara’s father had passed not that long ago but her mother sat on a folding chair near the makeshift aisle, dabbing her eyes. Other friends from the sanctuary and their neighbors filled the room with laughter and conversation until the wedding march—provided by one of Brad’s coworker’s daughters on her keyboard—began. Bob stood in as best man and led Kim up the aisle, then it was Sara’s turn, escorted by Ted, one of the older zoologists from the sanctuary.
Standing at the end of the aisle, Sara paused, smiling broadly at Brad. Her brother grinned back, eyes damp. He looked so handsome and so freaking grown up in his suit that Kim couldn’t help sniffling into her bouquet of white and peach roses.
Her baby brother was getting married. To Sara, the closest friend she’d ever had.
This was the best day ever.
As Sara walked toward her brother, Kim’s gaze veered toward the second row of folding chairs. To Michael. He wore a steel gray suit that did amazing things for his dark hair and eyes. His smile eased the stomach muscles she hadn’t realized had gone tight with nerves. She wanted this day to be perfect for the people she loved. Sharing it with Michael, seeing the affection on his face, made an incredible moment even better.
She smiled at him and shifted to exchange a loving glance with her brother before turning to watch Sara finish her glide down the aisle. Brad held out a hand to his wife-to-be and pulled her close, holding her against him as the minister read their vows. And after they said their “I Dos” and the tears started—Sara’s and hers—she sought Michael again, needing to link with him in some small way. Only to find he was staring right back.
Laughter rang out after Sara and Brad’s first kiss as a married couple. All at once, the guests swarmed them, Kim included. She kissed them both and then stepped back to allow others their turns, retreating until she bumped into a solid, unmoving mass. Already smiling, she looked up, certain who she would find.
“You look gorgeous.” Michael brushed his mouth over hers, steadying her immeasurably. “Even prettier than the bride, though she’s stunning.”
“She is, isn’t she?”
“Absolutely.” He linked his arms around her waist and together, they turned to watch Sara and Brad make their rounds. The music started and as couples paired off, they swayed in their little corner. “Come on. Dance with me.”
“Naked rumba?” she teased.
“That’ll be later.” He spun her out and back. “For now I want to put my hands all over you while people can see.”
Her belly fluttered. He was going to be the death of her. “Kinky bastard.”
“When it comes to you? Hell yeah.”
The night sped by, full of dancing with her favorite guy and conversation and a little too many canapés. By the time they waved goodbye to Brad and Sara, who were headed to the airport for their New York City honeymoon weekend, she was tired and flushed and stuffed on happiness. Many of the guests were trickling out already. Though the party diehards would probably rage on for another hour or so, she was rapidly losing steam. The idea of going upstairs to cuddle with Michael far from prying eyes appealed to her on too many levels.
His lips coasted over her temple. “Want to go take a walk outside? It’s a nice night.”
“And leave the party?”
“Just for a minute. Besides, it’s getting quieter, and I can tell you need to regroup.” He linked their fingers over her waist. “Or maybe you’d rather take that walk alone. I’ll make your excuses if you’d like to escape for a bit.”
Kim shut her eyes, shocked he could know her so well already. It had only been a few weeks. Yet he read her like a book, every time. That knowledge was both comforting and frightening as hell.
Just as much was the realization she did want that walk—with him. Going alone didn’t sound nearly as attractive as it would have a month ago.
But that was exactly why she nodded and slipped out of his embrace. She shouldn’t get used to relying on him too much. “Yeah, I think I’ll just go out and sit in the backyard by myself for a few. You enjoy yourself in here.”
He squeezed her hand. “I will. Take your time.”
“Thanks.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
She slipped out the side door and headed out back to the picnic table covered up for winter. She set aside the cover and sat gingerly on the ice-cold bench, lifting her gaze to the star-sprinkled sky. Out in the crisp, clear air, it was so much easier to think. Inside the emotions had overwhelmed her, crowding her brain and heart until she was too full. For this instant, she was just Kim again, at peace.
Everything was going to be okay. Better than okay. Her brother was so happy and her new sister-in-law truly was her sister. As for her and Michael, they would be fine too. She wasn’t going to force the issue either way. As long as it worked for them to be together, they would be.
Maybe she would even tell him her concerns about him finding someone younger to date, someone more like himself. She shouldn’t be selfish. Brad was always teasing her about that for good reason. Now would be a fine time to demonstrate her maturity. She’d just go inside and finish spending a pleasant evening with a man she cared about as well as her friends, then later on, share her misgivings in a calm, even-tempered fashion. No drama. However he responded, she would accept.
Mind made up, she smiled and marched back inside. The night wind had dusted out the cobwebs. She was worrying for nothing. Today was a day of celebration and she was going to get her party on.
She walked into the living room, seeking Michael. He’d probably taken the opportunity to get a couple minutes away himself. For all she knew, he’d snuck upstairs for a nap or something. She smiled and engaged in small talk with those who grabbed her on her journey across the room, all the while scanning for her date. The room was starting to clear out yet he was nowhere to be found. Strange. Perhaps her first guess had been accurate. She took a quick detour to the kitchen, intending
to grab a couple of glasses of wine, and stopped dead.
Looked like she’d found her target.
He stood with his back to the island and the perky blonde evening clerk, Casey, from the sanctuary leaned too close, her wrists caught in his hands. They looked good together. Dark and light, two halves of a whole. Young, fresh. Their whole lives ahead of them. No one would wonder what he was doing with someone like her because it made sense. They matched, perfect bookends.
They shifted and for a second, Kim debated if he was trying to hold her off. If what she was seeing wasn’t an accurate picture at all. Then the tsunami of conflicting emotions she’d been battling for weeks surged through her and poured out of her throat.
“So sorry to interrupt,” she said loudly, causing Casey to stumble backward. “I wanted some wine. But never fear, we have open rooms available upstairs if you’d like more privacy.” She breezed past them and opened the refrigerator, tugging out the bottle of Riesling. “Excuse me.”
“Kim, what the hell?” Michael grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, holding her still so that she had no choice but to gaze up at his baffled features. The breadth of his chest and shoulders tripped her belly muscles as it often did, though this time she gave her daffy female reaction in the face of supreme male hotness no quarter. “Casey and I were just talking.”
“Touch talking. Is that like touch typing? You close your eyes to sound out the words?” She shoved away from him to set down the bottle of wine, well aware somewhere in the back of her mind that she was overreacting. She didn’t intend to listen to that more sensible part of her brain.
Fact was, she’d been holding too much in for too long. Now that the cork had been pulled, she couldn’t stop the stream.
