Turn On A Dime - Kade's Turn (Kathleen Turner Series Book 7)
Page 15
It was an impulse, one born of the need to comfort her, to see that smile last just a bit longer. He should have known better. Everything he touched ended up dark and twisted. Corrupt. This was no different. He could tell the moment their lips touched that he’d been lying to himself.
Kade lifted his head and their eyes locked. She looked surprised, shocked even, her eyes wide as she stared at him.
Would she be angry? Appalled that he’d kissed her? He didn’t want to see her face fill with disgust and contempt, hear her tell him how sick and twisted he was to kiss his brother’s girlfriend.
But she said nothing.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. He didn’t move away. He couldn’t. Kade barely breathed as she tentatively reached up, her fingers sliding through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead.
Kathleen’s touch felt like sweet acceptance and it broke what little restraint he had.
He kissed her again, only this time, it wasn’t to comfort her and it wasn’t the perfunctory prelude it had always been with other women. It was different. She was different. He wanted to explore her, know everything about her taste and touch. Hear her little sighs and feel the warmth of her breath.
“Kiss me back, princess,” he murmured, needing to feel her respond to him. To his awed amazement, she did.
Kade could have stood there and kissed Kathleen for hours. She’d settled her arms on his shoulders, her hands sliding to the back of his neck and threading through his hair. Her nails lightly scraped his scalp, a uniquely feminine touch that sent a shiver down his spine.
She tasted sweet, like marshmallow and chocolate, and Kade took his time, memorizing the contours of her lips and the timid slide of her tongue against his. She relaxed against him, her body pressed into his from chest to knee. The soft fullness of her breasts made his hands itch to touch.
The darkness inside him was already planning, calculating. All she wore was his shirt and a tiny pair of panties. It wouldn’t take but a moment to slide his hands underneath the fabric and between her legs. As much as he wanted her, he wouldn’t even bother taking her into the bedroom. The stool at her back was about the right height, or hell, he’d just press her against the fucking wall. She’d be gasping his name while he buried himself inside her wet heat.
And then what?
Kade wanted to ignore the question whispering through his mind. He wanted to do what his body was urging him to do and screw the rest. He’d never worried or cared about what happened after he fucked someone, other than making sure he didn’t take their number because there was no sense in them entertaining the possibility that he might call. He never did.
But Kathleen didn’t fit into that equation. There were a lot of consequences if they had sex, not the least of which was that Blane would kick his ass. And as for Kathleen…
Even now he could taste the vodka on her tongue. Her tears were barely dry from what Blane had put her through tonight. And if they did this, tomorrow morning she’d see it as nothing more than a drunken one-night-stand rebound that she would no doubt deeply regret. She might even hate him for taking advantage of the situation, and of her.
The thought was a cold dose of reality.
Before, Kade had wanted her antipathy and her hatred. Now, the thought of her seeing him that way, feeling like that, cut him like a knife. He didn’t want that any longer. A moment ago, she’d looked at him like he was her hero. Kade wanted to see that look in her eyes more than he wanted to have sex with her.
He raised his head, breaking their kiss. Her breath was coming in little pants that made him want to see what other noises he could get her to make, but he resisted the urge.
“Why’d you stop?” she whispered. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and dark with desire.
“You’re drunk,” he said, combing a hand through her hair. Her eyes drifted closed at the touch. “And I have no interest in being your rebound guy.” What he did have an interest in…he couldn’t put into words, not even for himself.
She didn’t reply, but she did sway, which told him the alcohol was definitely a factor in what had just happened. He swallowed down bitter disappointment. Maybe she would have kissed anyone tonight, given these circumstances. Maybe there was nothing particularly special about Kade to her.
“Come on,” he said. “You need to get some rest.”
But she resisted his tugging her toward the bedroom. “No,” she protested, trying to pull away. “I don’t want to sleep.”
There was fear in her eyes, fear that Kade knew well. Sometimes sleep and dreams held more terror than staying awake.
“All right,” he said, instead leading her into the living room.
She looked around, taking in the decor and furniture. Kade had the absurd thought that he hoped she liked it. It should be universally appealing, at least that’s what the interior decorator had said when he’d written her an exorbitant check for her services. He hadn’t really cared at the time about the aesthetic properties of “warm, earth tones”, but now he found himself craving Kathleen’s approval. She didn’t say anything though, just sank onto the couch and crossed her legs, tucking her feet underneath her. Kade got a quick glimpse of satin between her thighs before she tugged his shirt down to cover herself.
“Where’s your Christmas tree?” she asked as he sat down beside her.
Kade looked at her. Didn’t reply.
“What?” she asked. “Everyone should have a Christmas tree, even if it’s only a little one.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kade said. He didn’t own a single holiday decoration and it hadn’t occurred to him to buy something. He wouldn’t even be in this city, this state, if not for Blane asking him to come back.
He reached for her, giving in to the temptation to touch her again. She came willingly into his arms and settled beside him on the couch. She trusted him, the silly, foolish girl. He could give her a list of names as long as his arm who could tell her that trusting Kade Dennon was a bad idea.
The feel of her ass pressed against his crotch as they lay spoon-style made his still-hard cock twitch inside his jeans. Nothing he could do about that, and if she noticed, she didn’t let on.
She was flipping through the television channels, finally settling on some cartoon, of all things. She seemed engrossed in the tale of Charlie Brown and his sad-looking Christmas tree. Kade glanced at the screen a few times, but mainly he just watched her. His elbow was braced on the cushion, his head resting in his palm, so he had a good view of her face.
Kathleen was so pretty. Pretty in the true sense of the word, the way you’d describe something that needed no adornment, but just…was. Her face was perfection, from the high cheekbones, to the wide, blue eyes, to her lips, pink and full. She fit against him as though they were made for each other, and she didn’t seem to mind the fact that he had his hand on the curve of her hip. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric of the shirt she wore.
Kade hadn’t even noticed the cartoon was over, so consumed was he with memorizing every feature, so he was surprised when she spoke.
“Thank you,” she said.
He frowned. “For what?” For not screwing her against the wall the way he’d wanted to?
“Saving me. Again.”
Kade’s lips twisted. “I have told you you’re a shitload of trouble, right?”
He drank in her answering smile. “I believe you may have mentioned that.”
Their eyes were locked together, the moment growing heavy between them. At last, she glanced away, and Kade knew she was sobering. He was suddenly glad they hadn’t had sex. She would’ve regretted it, and that would have nearly killed him.
“Did you used to watch this as a kid?” she asked, changing the subject.
Watch Christmas cartoons? Hardly. “I don’t really remember,” he lied, hoping she’d drop it.
She frowned. “You don’t remember?”
“I spent the days and nights just trying to survive when I was a kid. Holida
y specials weren’t a big part of that.” He was blunt, hoping she’d take the hint. But instead of glancing away in discomfort and changing the subject again as he’d expected she would, she turned, wriggling until they faced each other on the couch.
“Tell me?” she asked, punctuating the plea by reaching up to push her fingers through his hair.
Kade’s brow furrowed as he tried to puzzle this out. Why did she want to know? Why did she care? Blane had never asked him about the time spent after his mother’s death and before he’d come to live with his newfound brother. He’d seemed to understand without Kade saying that he didn’t want to talk about it.
For the first time, Kade did want to talk about it. He wanted to tell Kathleen, though why, he couldn’t say. Maybe it was just because she’d asked.
“Not everyone was bad,” he said finally, “but a few were the stuff of nightmares. Those, I ran away from. But there was one…I couldn’t run away.”
“Why not?”
“There was a little girl there, too, younger than me.” The image of Branna when he’d first met her drifted through his mind. “She didn’t know, didn’t understand, and he’d go after her.” Kathleen’s blue gaze was steady as she listened, and Kade couldn’t look away. Confessing this to her felt like he was stripping his soul bare.
“I figured out I could distract him, make him stop, if I pissed him off,” he continued. “Kind of like a diversion. He was a mean sonofabitch. Liked to do the cigarettes and the belt. His fists when he was too drunk to find something else. A few times, a broken bottle, a knife.” And each time Kade had bit the inside of his lip until he bled, vowing he would not cry. And he hadn’t. That had really pissed the guy off, but it had been worth it. Because fuck him.
Branna had been safe, and at the time, that was all Kade had cared about. The guy had gotten his in the end, and no one and nothing would make him regret shoving that bastard down the stairs.
But tears were leaking from Kathleen’s eyes, so Kade cut his story short.
“Eventually, the girl left. The state took her away. Blane found me shortly after that.”
“What happened to the girl?” she asked.
“You’ve met her,” he said. “It was Branna.”
That surprised her, he could tell, and Kade wondered briefly at how pissed off Branna would be if she knew he was telling someone about that time in their lives, but he gave a mental shrug. It’s not like she’d ever know.
More tears spilled down Kathleen’s cheeks and Kade frowned. God, he was such a dick. After what she’d been through tonight already, he was telling her shitty sob stories from his past? He’d really lost his touch if he thought tales of woe would make her want to sleep with him.
Reaching out, he brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek. “I didn’t tell you that so you’d feel sorry for me,” he said.
She shook her head. “I don’t feel sorry for you, or pity you. I feel…” She seemed to struggle for the right words. “Rage and helplessness. Sorrow and despair. I hate that you had to endure such things and I hate the people who did them to you.”
If she’d said she wanted to strip naked and paint his toenails, Kade couldn’t have been more shocked.
No one had cared for him enough to feel those emotions on his behalf. Only Blane. To hear Kathleen tell him so passionately how she hated those who’d hurt him…it rocked him, made him want to lay his head against her and let her put her arms around him, soothe him. Her fingers still trailed through his hair as they stared at each other.
That elusive feeling of peace settled over him. It was something particular to Kathleen and not a state of being he’d felt with anyone else. There was something about having someone so pure look at him as though she could see into his soul, and what she saw didn’t frighten or disgust her. It was the look of a woman who could stare into the face of overwhelming odds…and smile. She amazed him, humbled him, which was a dangerous place to be. Because she wasn’t his, and would never be his. The realization was more painful than all the trauma he’d endured that had left scars on his body.
“I lied, you know,” he said, desperate to change the subject.
She went still, her eyes wide.
“I did look.”
It took her a second to get it, and when she did, she laughed. The sound was one Kade prayed he’d never forget.
Something on the television caught her attention and she turned.
“Oh, I love this movie!”
She squirmed again, turning until her back was once again pressed to his chest. The movie was It’s a Wonderful Life, a sentiment Kade would take issue with, if he cared enough, which he didn’t.
She seemed content though, absorbed in the black and white scenes playing out on the screen. After dropping way too much of his emotional baggage on her, she’d made no move to leave his arms or the couch, just turning back to the television and snuggling.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d honest-to-God snuggled with a woman where sex wasn’t involved. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d wanted to.
Kade paid half his attention to the movie, listening to the dialogue, but his gaze was on Kathleen. His arm still rested in the curve of her waist, his hand flat against her abdomen, but she didn’t seem to mind. Her cheeks were flushed rosy from the vodka she’s consumed, making her skin appear flawless. Her hair lay in long waves against his chest, the strands tickling slightly at his neck.
Kade loved her hair. The color was so rare, like the horizon at dusk just as the last ray of sunshine was set to disappear. He wanted to touch the wavy lengths, but he was afraid that if he moved, she’d move, too. Maybe she’d sit up and go to the other end of the couch away from him. He didn’t want that. So he just watched her.
“This part gets me every time,” she said quietly, and Kade looked up at the screen.
It was some scene with a kid talking to an old man, pleading with him. Mr. Gower? As Kade watched, the old man hit the kid on the side of the head.
“You like this?” Kade asked in disbelief.
“Well, no, I don’t like him hitting the kid,” Kathleen said. “I hate that. But the kid is George Bailey, and he’s trying to save the old man. The guy just lost his son in the war, so he’s upset and hurting. George is taking the abuse because he refuses to let the old man push him away, not when he knows he can help him.”
The words hit a little too close to home. Kade had treated Kathleen like shit, and she’d let him, coming back for more until he’d finally let her in. He wondered if that’s how she saw him, as a charity case who needed her help. He’d warned her already that he was beyond saving. He hoped for her sake that she’d heed that warning.
Kade tuned out the TV as he studied Kathleen, memorizing every minute expression that crossed her face as she watched the movie. Sadness. Concern. Amusement. Joy. They didn’t talk, and that was fine. Just being here, with her, was more than he’d ever had expected…or thought that he’d want.
Blane was a fool, he decided.
She sighed, nestling more closely against him, and Kade realized she’d fallen asleep. The vodka had probably helped with that, not to mention the emotional and physical shocks of tonight. His lips twisted slightly as the image of her tossing back a shot ran through his mind. He liked a woman who could hold her liquor.
Carefully easing the remote out of her hand, he turned the volume down on the television.
Kade wasn’t usually the type of man to take the high road, if given a choice, and tonight was no exception. Kathleen’s squirming had twisted the shirt she wore so that now it gaped at the neck, offering him an unobstructed view of her incredible breasts.
He lifted his hand, his gaze returning to her face, and softly brushed the back of his knuckles down her cheek. She didn’t wake, so he did it again, savoring that he’d been handed an opportunity to hold her, touch her.
He’d nearly lost her tonight, had escaped with seconds to spare.
He’d been willing to di
e with her.
It was the first time he’d really allowed himself to dwell on what had happened. He’d risked his life for her and would have died right there beside her. And he’d done it without hesitation.
It gave him pause.
Kade didn’t just lay his life down for anyone, yet tonight he hadn’t thought twice. And if things had turned out differently and they had died, he couldn’t make himself regret that the last thing he saw would have been Kathleen’s face. That sounded pretty fucking perfect, actually, and that thought brought back another that he’d had in the heat of the moment when they’d been trying to escape.
He loved her.
He remembered now. He’d thought it, just a split-second thing when they’d both realized a bomb was going to go off. God he loved this woman.
Kade’s hand paused in its fourth trip down her cheek.
Donovan was right. Somehow, someway, he’d fallen for this little slip of a girl with blue eyes and sun-kissed hair.
And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
CHAPTER TEN
A knock on the door roused Kade from where he was sleeping on the couch. He rubbed his eyes and glanced at his watch. Almost ten in the morning. Shit. He hadn’t slept that long in a while.
The knock came again and Kade got up, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head as he went to the door. Only a handful of people knew of his apartment, so he wasn’t surprised to see Blane on the other side.
He didn’t greet him, just left the door open as he turned away, pushing a hand through his hair to arrange it from a sleep-tousled mess. Blane followed him inside.
“Is Kathleen all right?” he asked. “I’ve been by her apartment. She’s not there.”
“Why would you think she’d want to see you?” Kade countered, filling the coffee pot and grabbing some coffee grounds from the freezer.
“I’m her boyfriend. I have a good reason for what happened last night. I just need to see her and explain.”