One in a Million

by Susan Mallery

  Finally they drew apart and JT chuckled wryly. “I really am a bad host. The least I could do was find a more comfortable spot. We could move to the couch?”

  Or the bed. Was that too forward? “Actually, could you show me around? I’d love to see where you work.”

  “All right.”

  His floor plan was a lot different than hers. Where the space in her apartment was carved up for a maximum number of rooms and vanity nooks, his was considerably more open. The living room was larger, flowing into the kitchen, with very little separation except the breakfast bar divider. There was a single bathroom and two bedrooms, one of which he’d converted into a studio. His apartment looked recently cleaned, not as messy as she would have expected from a bachelor.

  The studio was fascinating. There were several easels set up, small electric tools she didn’t recognize sitting atop a square table, shelving units full of paint and other supplies placed against the walls. Some sort of respiratory mask hung right beneath the light switch. Everything clearly had a place…except for the art itself, which was scattered everywhere. A large piece of wood lay on a window seat, half its surface covered in colors and waxy texture, and on the floor below were wadded-up pieces of sketching paper. Old canvases were stacked in a corner, and one had slid off the pile. The surface of a desk had disappeared entirely under an inch-thick layer of drawings. There was a palpable energy in the room; she could easily picture his artistic mania, JT sketching and muttering to himself as he tried to produce just the right image.

  Kenzie glanced around, taking it all in. “How long have you been— Oh!” Her gaze fell on a picture that lay crookedly across a chair.

  He quickly moved between her and the object she was studying. “How long have I been painting, you were going to ask?”

  “Was that picture of me?”

  He shot her a helpless look, obviously embarrassed that she’d spotted it.

  “Can I see it?”

  “It’s not very good. My work is more abstract by nature. It’s difficult for me to accurately capture a real person.”

  A grin tugged at her lips—he sounded like her kids when they were stalling. “Please?”

  “Here. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  She took a step closer to reach for the paper, and their fingers brushed. The fleeting contact gave her a warm zing, but it was nothing compared to the dizzying sensation that went through her when she looked at the picture.

  “Good heavens,” she breathed. “Is this… This is how you see me?”

  Earlier that evening, she’d looked at her own reflection and felt a jolt of fractured identity, knowing the woman she saw was Kenzie Green, yet in many ways not recognizing her. Seeing JT’s drawing was similar, only a hundred times more powerful. She didn’t think her mouth was really that sensual. And she was amazed at how expressive the eyes were even without color. Despite his modest claim about not capturing people well, he’d done a phenomenal job.

  He’d focused mainly on her face, her hair a smudgy free-form impression of loose waves on the edges of the picture. Thank God he hadn’t drawn her body. She didn’t think she could take the effect of seeing that.

  She glanced up with amazement, meeting his nervous gaze. “This is beautiful.”

  “I was depicting a subject who’s beautiful.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to protest that she wasn’t that beautiful, not really, but he was there, kissing her, before she could.

  She’d expected a studio to smell more like the paints she’d had occasion to use over the years, mostly poster paint or spray paint, but it was difficult to describe the sweet scent permeating the room. Earthy and ripe. Between the aroma, the colors and textures and most of all the man who held her cradled against him, standing in JT’s studio was the most pleasurable assault on her senses she’d ever encountered. As he kissed her, he traced lazy patterns up and down both her shoulders, stopping at the top to fiddle with the straps of her dress.

  His voice was nearly hoarse. “Maybe I could show you the rest of the apartment now?”

  The only part left was his bedroom. “Yes.”

  When they reached his room, instead of flicking the light switch, he crossed the dim interior and turned on a lamp—a delicate-looking stained-glass piece.

  “Pretty,” she said. The riot of illuminated colors reminded her of the mural he’d done for the museum.

  “Thank you.” He studied the fixture. “I just recently pulled it out of storage to give the room more life.”

  She took a guess. “Was it your wife’s?”

  “She gave it to me for Valentine’s Day one year.” He glanced up with a rueful smile. “This is inappropriate, isn’t it, standing here with my gorgeous date and talking about Holly?”

  “You loved her. That makes you the man you are…a man I’m extremely attracted to. Acknowledging the woman you shared your life with doesn’t bother me.”

  “Thank you. Let me show you the other thing I rescued from storage.” He pointed to the left, at a segmented painting that was clearly one work but took place over three different panels.

  “Yours?” Unlike the children’s mural, there was no clear image in this, but it was a rich mass of reds and violets in broad, lush strokes. Though not graphic, it was indefinably erotic.

  “Mmm. One of my earlier pieces. It was featured in a magazine once, and I had offers to buy. At the time, I was so proud of it and so afraid that I might not produce anything else quite as good that I refused to let go.”

  “It’s fantastic.” She crossed the room for a better look, hearing his footsteps, smelling his cologne, as he approached. At the first touch of his lips against her bare shoulder, she shivered with anticipation. He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, then traced the shell of her ear with his mouth. She moved restlessly against him, ultimately turning in his arms so that she had better access.

  She meshed her fingers in his hair. “You make me so… I haven’t felt like this in a long time.”

  After that, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were of their mingled breathing, whispers of fabric as clothes brushed against each other or were removed, and muffled jazz from the apartment below. JT was adept enough at keeping her in a sensual haze that Kenzie didn’t get nervous when her dress pooled at her ankles. Besides, she was preoccupied with removing his shirt. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen his quite impressive naked chest, but before, she hadn’t been free to touch him. Now she trailed her fingers over the flat muscular planes and the modest dusting of dark hair. Warm male flesh. She’d seen beautiful sculptures of the human form before, but no matter how masterfully rendered, cold marble would always be vastly inferior to the original subject.

  Not until JT reached behind her to find the clasp of her bra did real apprehension ripple through her.

  He must have sensed her infinitesimal withdrawal because he stopped immediately. “Am I rushing you? We don’t have—”

  “No, everything you’re doing is perfect.” The thought of him seeing her body wasn’t nearly as daunting as the prospect of his no longer touching her.

  Her breasts were aching. Taking control of the moment and banishing her own timidity, she unfastened the bra and shrugged, letting the lacy black material fall. His expression turned to one of near reverence, a supremely gratifying reaction from a big, strapping man like JT.

  He ran his thumb along the swell of one breast, curving to the sensitive underside in a lazy circle, tracing smaller and smaller spheres until he finally brushed the peak with the pad of his thumb. Her eyes closed involuntarily, and her legs trembled with the effort to remain standing. He cupped both her breasts, then dropped his hands to her satin-covered backside, pulling her closer for another soul-searing kiss.

  Desire quaked inside her, leaving her weak
and breathless. She clung to him. “JT.” Was that her voice? The husky rasp sounded like a commercial for an adult phone line.

  He kissed her throat again, his fingers continuing their exquisite ministrations across her breasts. “I’m right here, sweetheart.” Taking her hand, he tugged her gently toward the bed.

  Kenzie sank into the mattress, savoring his weight atop her, squirming at the feel of him so close to where she most wanted him. He moved away to shuck the pants he’d been wearing, and her mouth went dry at the sight of him in formfitting boxer briefs. Oh, my. She was a very lucky girl. If her body wasn’t throbbing with such excruciating pleasure, she might even be a little nervous at the thought of this man inside her.

  He didn’t allow her much time to think, however. Bending his head over her, a dark contrast to her pale breasts, he drew a nipple into the damp heat of his mouth. Even though she enjoyed every touch, she could have sobbed in relief when he finally retrieved a condom from the nightstand drawer. She tilted her hips, helping to guide him, and gasped at the sensation. For a moment, neither of them moved, and she met his eyes, the visual connection somehow as intimate as being physically joined.

  Then he began to thrust in long, slow strokes, and Kenzie’s breath became uneven as she responded with answering movements. He braced himself with one hand, keeping the other entwined with hers on the quilt next to her head. She squeezed his fingers, nearly writhing as delicious spasms built deep within her and radiated through her limbs, from the top of her head to the tips of toes curled in satisfaction. At the end, she cried out in wordless ecstasy, and JT crushed her against him, murmuring against her hair.

  Kenzie’s heart was racing so hard she expected it to fly free of her chest. For a brilliantly colored, suspended moment in time, her entire body had felt that way—free of all worries and soaring.

  She licked her lips. “That…that was…” So much for being articulate. But who could blame her for not being one hundred percent coherent after the most powerful climax of her life?

  “Agreed.” They lay there in a sweaty, contented tangle for a few more minutes before he attempted to speak again. “Stay tonight?”

  She nodded. Right now, there was no place in the world she’d rather be.

  “Mmm.” Eyes closed, Kenzie moaned in bliss. “Lord, this is good.”

  “Careful.” JT, shirtless and grinning, shot her a completely ineffective look of reprimand. “I’m going to think you get more pleasure out of the enchiladas than the sex. Horrible for my self-esteem.”

  She giggled. “No disrespect to Mrs. Sanchez’s cooking, but the sex was definitely the high point of the evening.”

  He regarded her with a skeptically raised eyebrow. “Are you just saying that to get another bite?”

  “Maybe.” She tucked the sheet more firmly around her and reached for the fork in his hand. After making love earlier, they’d cuddled in sleepy contentment until Kenzie admitted she was starving. She’d forgotten just how energetic sex could be, and it seemed to have revved up her appetite. Of course, there was also the fact that she’d been so nervous earlier in the day about her date with JT that she’d barely eaten.

  So he’d microwaved a plate of leftovers and brought it back to bed with a couple of chilled bottles of water.

  I’m lounging in bed, being fed by a half-naked man who has the body of a Greek god. Did life get any better?

  He swallowed his own bite of food and smiled. “And to think I was aloof to Mrs. Sanchez the first few times she came by.”

  “Aloof? A people person like you?”

  He reached around to swat her on the fanny. “You’re not allowed to hang out with Sean anymore. I see his sarcasm is wearing off on you.”

  She laughed. “But I like Sean. I had so much fun tonight.” Truthfully, when JT was relaxed, he was every bit as humorous as his friend. It was a thrill to see him playful and happy. “Were you…”

  “Was I what?” he prompted.

  But her mouth had been running faster than her thoughts and she winced now at what she’d been about to ask. “I was just…thinking…about what you might have been like in the past.”

  He studied her for a minute. “You mean when Holly was alive?”

  Kenzie nodded, hoping she wasn’t casting a pall over the moment. “When you met her. You were probably less, as you put it, aloof then.” If he’d flashed that devastating smile often, his late wife had probably fallen in love within moments. If Kenzie wasn’t careful…

  “Actually, I was always fairly guarded. I didn’t come from a very demonstrative family, and the emotions my parents did demonstrate didn’t leave me eager to open up to anyone. I didn’t think I had much emotion to offer, except through my paintings.”

  The first few times she’d met him, Kenzie might have agreed. Now she knew better. He was a man who cared—and hurt—deeply.

  “I know I wasn’t the world’s best boyfriend or husband, but she put up with me.” He ran a finger along Kenzie’s jaw. “She would have liked you.”

  “Thank you.” Kenzie was touched, knowing she’d been paid a very special compliment.

  Their gazes locked, and Kenzie felt longing swirl through her. Not just physical longing—although that was there, too—but the longing to erase any pain he’d ever suffered, the longing to show him how much he had to offer, and prove to herself that despite her post-divorce cynicism, she, too, had a lot to give another person.

  Like what? Love? It wasn’t a question she wanted to face right now. So instead, she stole the last bite of enchilada, eliciting a mock growl of protest from JT.

  “There are going to be consequences for that, woman.”

  With a shriek, she came off the bed. “Should I make a run for it?”

  “You could.” He grinned. “But I plan to catch you.”

  She’d never looked forward to facing consequences so much in her life. Yet as the two of them laughed and wrestled, a tiny part of her heart warned that, sooner or later, there would be emotional consequences, too.

  Chapter 14

  Huddled in a borrowed sweatshirt that fell past midthigh, Kenzie stood at the large window in JT’s living room. Streaks of burnt-orange and scarlet had appeared on the horizon and were slowly streaking across the early dawn sky in a beautiful blossom of color, but she couldn’t help resenting the sunrise. Her magical night with JT was at an end.

  The wafting aroma of coffee preceded his footsteps. A moment later, he joined her. She gratefully accepted the mug he offered.

  He lifted his chin toward the window. “Gorgeous, isn’t it?”

  “I guess.”

  “You guess?” He laughed, kissing the side of her neck. “You’re definitely tough enough to be an art critic.”

  She ran her fingers over his stubbled jaw. “I’ll need to leave soon.”

  No matter how much she wanted to spend the next few hours lounging in JT’s bed, she needed to get in touch with Ann first thing this morning and arrange to pick up the twins before Mick called. While Kenzie had refused to change everyone’s plans last night to accommodate his surprise arrival, she didn’t want to deprive her kids of spending whatever time possible with him before he left again.

  JT rested his head on top of hers. “Let me make you breakfast first? You’re probably famished.”

  “True,” she said with a grin. She should be exhausted, too, but up until she’d seen those first rays of sun, she’d felt invigorated, buzzing with excitement and life. She hadn’t had a night with so little sleep since the twins were babies.

  After the late-night enchiladas, she and JT had showered. Eventually they’d made love again, a slow, sweet union that left Kenzie glad there’d been no men in her life for years, that she’d waited for this one very special man. JT was a night person used to being up during the wee
hours, but he’d insisted she try to sleep. Instead they’d wound up talking for hours. In the intimate darkness, he’d told her candidly about selling the house he’d shared with his wife, and coming to Peachy Acres, where he’d begun to heal. Kenzie told him about her own upcoming move and the Perfect Home. Yet even as he said the house she was buying sounded wonderful, she’d been assailed by unexpected misgivings.

  Living here had spoiled her in some ways. She’d had more help and more time with the kids. Once she moved, there’d be an increased commute, plus weekend hours that would be eaten up by lawn and garden maintenance. There would be no companionable meals with Mrs. Sanchez. And what would Kenzie do when a gasket blew or a fuse shorted? In Raindrop, if a repair job outstripped her own skills, she’d known who to trust for affordable assistance. Here, she’d relied on Mr. C. whenever there was a problem. Even though she’d only been here a short time, she’d miss the people.

  Especially this one, she thought, staring into JT’s eyes.

  “Hey.” He touched her cheek. “You okay?”

  No. Suddenly, she wasn’t. “Can I get a rain check on that meal together? I appreciate the generous offer. I just…”

  “Need to go.” He stepped away.

  “JT, thank you for last night. It was extraordinary.” Choking back the lump of emotion in her throat, she held up her still-full mug. “And thanks for the coffee, too.”

  “Feel free to take that with you,” he said.

  “I’ll, uh, just return the cup later,” she promised. After he’d seen and touched most of her exposed body, would it be awkward to run into him? To pass him in the hall or bring Drew by for painting lessons? Not that I’ll be here much longer to run into him. Which was for the best. Even knowing they weren’t right for each other in the long range, Kenzie’s heart might get different ideas if she remained in JT’s proximity for an extended period.