“Pretty much, yeah.” She smiled, but her heart wasn’t in it, and she was afraid Kyle could tell.
Yasmine had given up on having big, lofty goals somewhere along the way. She’d decided while serving her time in juvenile detention that when she got out, she’d just be happy with whatever life presented her. She didn’t think there would be much point in expecting big things from her future, careerwise, and somehow she’d come to have the same low expectations of her personal life.
“Judging by your reputation at work, it seems like you’re capable of running your own software company instead of just being a programmer for one.”
She shrugged. “I’m not much of a business person.”
Kyle flashed her an odd look but said nothing more. A few seconds later, they’d made it to the cash register, and he insisted on paying for the tree. He propped it on his shoulder for the walk home.
“You look so outdoorsy with that tree slung over your shoulder,” she said as they crossed the street.
“Oh, yeah? Are you into the outdoorsy look?”
“I didn’t think so, but it works for you.” She let her gaze travel from his eyes downward, over his broad chest to his waist and below.
He slipped his free arm around her waist, and she felt his finger hook into her belt loop. The gesture seemed more intimate somehow than she was prepared for, and she had to resist the urge to pull away. She was truly a person with issues when she could sleep with a guy, but when he slipped his finger into her belt loop, all of a sudden she was feeling freaked.
Clearly, she needed help.
“What’s wrong?” Kyle asked, surprisingly attuned to her mood changes.
“Oh, nothing. Guess I’m just getting hungry for lunch.” Which wasn’t exactly a lie.
“Can you make it until we get down to the wharf, or do you need to eat now?”
Yasmine must have been desperate for affection, because that one little gesture of concern for her well-being nearly melted her heart. “I guess I can hold out for clam chowder in a sourdough bowl.”
They made it back to her apartment, dropped off the tree and headed out for the streetcar stop a block away.
As an adult, Yasmine drove everywhere. She hadn’t taken a streetcar probably since her teen years. And standing at the corner, without warning, her chest filled up with a strange longing for something she couldn’t name.
Something about Kyle and the streetcars and this little escape from reality they seemed to have embarked upon made her think too much about the past, about the things she couldn’t change. But she couldn’t let that crap get her down now. She owed herself a weekend of pure escapist fantasy, and she was determined to enjoy every fleeting moment of it.
THE STREET CAR stopped on The Embarcadero not far from Fisherman’s Wharf, and Alex reminded himself for the hundredth time why he was with Yasmine. Not to have fun, and not to forget all his problems, but to find out if she was still a hacker. He’d suggested they go on their little tourist excursion as a way to gain her trust, to get her to let her guard down in a completely different environment than the one in which she usually lived. But it was just so damn easy to lose himself in her company, and he had to admit, he was thoroughly enjoying playing the tourist in his adopted city for the first time.
During the ride to the waterfront, they took in the scenery together, probably looking to all the world like a pair of happy lovers. He felt more comfortable with Yasmine than he should have, and he liked her more than he should have. She was more comfortable in her own skin than most of the women he’d ever known, and her comfort with herself made it easy for others to be at ease with her.
He couldn’t help thinking, in another time, another place, maybe they could have been a real couple. But as soon as the thought formed in his head, he banished it. He knew too well the dangers of wanting what he couldn’t have.
When they reached their final stop, Alex stepped off the street car and extended his hand to Yasmine as she stepped down, too. The weather here was a little windier than it had been at her place, and he was glad now that he’d worn a heavy leather jacket and his flannel-lined jeans. The scent of the ocean mingled with the less pleasant odor of sea lions, and as they crossed onto the sidewalk, they had to keep moving to avoid blocking the steady stream of tourists milling through.
“Where to?” he asked Yasmine once they had a chance to stop and get their bearings.
“Toward the smell of food.”
They wandered a row of seafood vendors until they found one with the best looking bowls, then crossed the street with their sourdough bowls and colds cans of Coke and sat on a concrete platform where people, seagulls and pigeons gathered for lunch. A particularly large seagull landed a few feet away from them and stood eyeing their food, while the less aggressive birds nervously edged closer a few inches at a time.
“You think he’ll attack?” Alex asked.
“It’s not a matter of ‘if’ so much as ‘when.’ We’d better eat fast.”
He looked over and caught Yasmine tossing the seagull a piece of bread. “Isn’t that illegal or something?”
“Shh. I’m buying us time.”
He stole another glimpse of her and his heart swelled in his chest. He’d never wanted a woman so much as he wanted her then, sitting beside him on this cool, damp day. And he’d never been a bigger fool in his life. How had he turned physical desire into emotional desire overnight?
Okay, so it was a natural progression, but he’d been a fool not to anticipate it, not to realize he wasn’t the kind of guy who slept with women indiscriminately. He’d always considered sex a small part of the big picture in relationships.
He focused on the hot chowder and tried to let the more troubling thoughts vacate his mind, but no luck. By the time he’d emptied the bread bowl and started breaking off pieces of it to eat, the thought that he was getting too emotionally involved with Yasmine could not be ignored.
“You look so serious,” she said. She’d finished her soup now and was breaking off more pieces of it and tossing them to the birds. Pigeons scampered around her sexy black boots, hoping to be the next recipient of her goodwill.
Alex forced a smile and took a drink of his Coke. “Just worried that one of these birds is going to dive bomb us if we don’t get moving soon.”
Had he really been stupid enough to think he could resolve ten years of wanting with a few nights of great sex? Had he really believed the situation wouldn’t get any more complicated than it already was?
Damn it, he had. Maybe deep down, he’d known he would be walking into a no-win situation, but he’d fooled himself.
Having tossed her last bit of bread and finished her drink, Yasmine gazed at the row of cheesy tourist shops lining the street across from where they sat. “I think we have to buy some T-shirts, don’t we? Isn’t that the rule if you come down here—you have to leave with a shirt that declares your love for San Francisco?”
“I’m no expert.”
“How about, I’ll pick out a shirt for you, and you pick one out for me?”
“How about we just skip the T-shirt thing? I thought we were shopping for snow globes.”
“Don’t try to distract me with plastic trinkets,” Yasmine said as she took his hand and tugged him toward the strip of shops. “I’m buying a shirt, and that’s final.”
Her hand in his felt right as they walked, felt like the kind of comfort he hadn’t realized he’d been wanting for a long time. He glanced over at her and was struck by the sensation that she recognized him. Fear shot through him, but he did his best to show no emotion.
“What?” he said when she continued to stare at him.
“It’s weird,” she said as they waited at the traffic light to cross. “I occasionally get the feeling we’ve known each other before.”
“Maybe we’ve bumped into each other around town somewhere. I jog in Golden Gate Park pretty often, usually around Stowe Lake.”
Had she detected the slight note of
tension in his voice that he’d failed to hide?
“I doubt that’s it. I just can’t think where we might have met.”
Alex’s stomach churned as he scrambled for a way to change the subject. His gaze settled on the nearest shop, its entrance crowded with racks of T-shirts and its display window filled with trinkets, including snow globes. “Looks like we’ve found our destination,” he said.
It worked—instant distraction. Yasmine headed for the nearest rack and grabbed a bright-orange shirt that read ‘Orange you glad I visited San Francisco?”
She held it up and smiled. “This is perfect for you.”
“That’s the dumbest T-shirt I’ve ever seen.”
“Exactly. Now you have to find an even worse one for me.”
Alex gave her a look, but she draped the shirt over her arm and wandered farther into the store. He wanted to find something to dislike about her, something that would bring him back to Earth and show him that no matter how perfect she seemed, she really was a common criminal.
He just needed a little more time. Another day or two would be enough for him to dig up the truth. Either that or fall head over heels in love.
WHO KNEW DECORATING a tree could turn into such an erotic undertaking?
Yasmine watched the tiny white lights twinkling and felt for a moment as though she was a little girl again, filled with the excitement of Christmas Eve. All the possibilities, the promise of goodies to come, the mystery of presents to be puzzled over and opened.
But then she remembered she was lying naked next to a guy she’d known less than a month, and the evening took on a whole different sense of possibility.
After an afternoon of wandering the shops and sites around the Wharf and Pier 39, they’d returned to Yasmine’s apartment and set about decorating the tree, a task that had resulted in each of them getting more undressed for every item of clothing that the tree put on.
“I don’t want to hear a word about my ornaments,” she said when she caught him looking at the tree, a smile playing on his lips.
“I didn’t say anything.” He looked at the cat, perched on the back of the table next to them. “Did you hear me say anything?”
Milo blinked at him.
“You were about to critique, I could tell.”
“I’m just awed by your creativity, that’s all.”
She’d seen a decorating show that used household objects as nontraditional tree decorations and had insisted on trying it herself instead of hauling out her collection of ugly rejected ornaments. So now the tree was bedecked in scarves and belts, earrings and pendants, ribbons and tassels. It looked a little odd, but kind of fun, too.
“Yeah, well. At least you’re a man who knows when to stick with the safe response.”
“Especially when I have a beautiful woman lying naked next to me.” He pulled the blanket from the back of the couch over them and wrapped his arms around her.
Kyle may have been a guy she barely knew, but this was turning out to be the most fun Christmas Eve she’d had since the days of believing in Santa Claus. Then the phone rang, interrupting their perfect moment for the second time that day.
Yasmine reached over him to the cordless phone on the end table and answered, barely able to concentrate on “Hello” when she had Kyle’s chest to ponder up close and personal.
“Yasmine? It’s Cass. Where the hell are you?”
“I’m home, obviously, and your timing today is incredibly bad.”
“You forgot my party.”
“Your party…Oh, right. I told you weeks ago I didn’t want to go,” Yasmine said as she glanced at Kyle.
“And I told you to get your ass over here, anyway.”
“I thought you were joking.”
“I never joke about yuletide events.”
“I guess this means Drew fixed your computer and you were able to let loose in the kitchen.” Which was a scary thought, given Cass’s level of culinary skill.
“Yes, and thanks for sending him. But seriously, I’ll be the only single here if you don’t show.”
Yasmine winced. Cass had been dating her last boyfriend when she’d planned the party, and he’d broken up with her soon after.
“Listen, I’m actually kind of tied up right now.” Tied up—now there was something she and Kyle hadn’t tried yet…. Where were those furry handcuffs, anyway?
“Watching the MTV Christmas special does not qualify as holiday plans.”
“No, I mean, I have company right now.”
Silence. And then, “Oh! You have male company. Who is it?”
“No one you know.”
“You’re being uncharacteristically coy—Wait a minute, it’s not that guy from your office that you bought handcuffs and candy for, is it?”
“It is,” Yasmine said, trying not to reveal too much to Kyle. He didn’t need to know she’d had conversations with friends about him.
“And let me guess. He’s lying right there naked beside you.”
“Um…”
“Yasmine! You slut, I was joking.”
“So you can understand why I won’t be attending your party.”
“No, what I understand is why you’ll be getting your ass over here within the hour. I made a Yule log for you. With decorative leaves and chocolate filling. You will be here to partake. Do you understand?”
“Oh God, Cass, you shouldn’t have. I was joking about the log.”
She’d told her friend the thing she’d missed most about her childhood Christmas vacations in Paris was the bûche de Noël. Her parents had always bought one at a pâtisserie near the flat where they stayed, and they’d always let her have the biggest piece of the chocolate log-shaped cake. When Cass had issued the invitation to her all-couples-except-Yasmine Christmas Eve party, Yasmine had jokingly said she would only show if there was a big chocolate Yule log in her honor.
“You’re lucky I forgot to start cooking the turkey on time—dinner’s in an hour. You and the office hottie had better be here. Got it?”
“Really, Cass. I don’t think that’s a good idea. And besides—”
“No excuses. You have no idea what a pain in the ass this Yule log was.”
“But…” Yasmine scrambled to think of a new excuse, unwilling as she was to get out of bed at the moment. “He doesn’t believe in celebrating Christmas. He’s a…Moonie.”
“So he can pretend there’s not a tree and enjoy the merriment anyway. Really, babe, this is a multicultural, multifaith affair.”
Yasmine gave Kyle a look pregnant with warning as she said goodbye to Cass and then reached across him again to hang up the phone.
“That was my best friend,” she said. “She’s insisting we show up at her Christmas Eve party, which is already in session and which she apparently was expecting me to attend even after I said I wouldn’t be there.”
Kyle glanced down at his still-present erection. “Do you think we have time—”
“If we’re fast,” she said as she straddled his hips and connected their bodies.
“I can do fast,” he said.
And he could. Remarkably well.
Fifteen minutes later they were both breathless and satisfied, tugging on their clothes and getting themselves looking presentable.
They set off on the eight-block walk to Cass’s apartment in the cool darkness, hand in hand. While Yasmine was happy to have a date, she was a little weirded out by their fast physical comfort. And that holding hands freaked her out more than having sex with him told Yasmine once again that she had definitely gotten her perspective knocked askew.
Instead of examining her problem closer, she opted to prepare Kyle for his impending immersion into her social group.
“Be warned,” she said as they waited for a light to change so they could cross the street. “My friends have mostly settled into happy coupledom. They tend to view singles like us as potential converts, and they see it as their personal directive to spread the gospel of commitment and marriage.�
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“And you’re opposed to the whole concept?” he said with a half-smile.
“Well, no. I just think we’re all a bit young to be getting too serious.”
“I guess that’s my problem. I’m already over the hill, eh?”
She laughed. “You’ve been holding your own in the bedroom for being such a geriatric patient.”
“Smart-ass.”
“So what we’re doing isn’t too serious for you?”
“Definitely not. But if I find out you’re sleeping with me just to research some new sex software—”
“Oh no, you’ve found me out! Whatever you do, don’t ever try the upcoming game entitled Old Guy Sex.”
He gave her a swat on the backside. “How did you end up working at Virtual Active? You don’t exactly fit the profile of the typical employee.”
“Yeah, well. Being a notorious former hacker doesn’t endear me to potential employers.”
“A what?”
“A hacker, cracker, system intruder—whatever you want to call it. You probably saw me on the news and don’t remember. I was the first teen hacker given more than a slap on the wrist for accessing government computers.”
“You? I don’t believe it.”
She shrugged. “It’s true. I was stupid. I had no idea how much trouble I was getting myself into. I just thought of it as an interesting puzzle to solve.”
“So you were just breaking into these computers to see if you could do it?”
“Yeah, it’s not like I was stealing information or anything.”
“And they sent you to prison? That’s harsh,” he said, sounding outraged by the whole idea.
“It’s behind me. I don’t think about it much anymore. If I start thinking, I get pissed off.”
“What was being in juvenile prison like?”
“It sucked. I mean, think about it—there aren’t a lot of opportunities for white-collar teen crime. The kids I was in with were there for violent crimes, drug-related stuff, gang banging…It was a far cry from my old private girls’ school crowd.”
“So what did you do?”
“I suffered through, avoided eye contact, got my ass beat now and then.”
Any Way You Want Me Page 8
