Bare Essentials

by Leslie Kelly Jill Shalvis

  He realized he probably should not have startled her only after he saw her drop the paintbrush. Right toward his head.

  A quick step back saved his skull, but not his shorts.

  “Jack,” she cried as the brush careened down his leg, leaving squishy beige marks in its path.

  “I’m really sorry,” she muttered. She shimmied on her hands and knees across the wood plank of the scaffolding, doing very interesting things to her black gym shorts. Well, black and beige gym shorts, considering all the paint stains.

  She reached the built-in metal ladder on the side of the scaffold and swung around to it. Not wanting her to drop anything else—including herself—Jack went over and steadied her as she descended.

  “Did you get any paint on the walls?” he asked her, looking down at her speckled clothes. And her skin. Not to mention her face and hair. “You are a complete mess.”

  “That’s what long showers are for.”

  Oh, great. Kate was taking another long shower. Maybe he should just shoot himself now.

  Looking around the empty lobby, he said, “You here alone?”

  She nodded. “Miss Rose and her brother were here when I arrived. They were just getting ready to go for a dinner break, but said if I wanted to I could keep working on this wall.”

  Jack followed her gaze and looked at the interior wall that she’d been painting. It extended up all the way to the top of the open, two-story lobby. Where Kate had been working, he saw a big circle of paint. “Didn’t anyone teach you to do the trim first?”

  “Since you’re the construction genius, why don’t you do it?” She bent, grabbed another brush and tossed it to him. Though not paint covered, the brush was wet and as he caught it on the bristle-side, it oozed beige-tinged water between his fingers.

  “Nice,” he said as he shook the moisture off. “I think you’ve been selling body paint at your store too long. This kind doesn’t come off so easily.”

  She stepped closer, a laugh on her lips. “Oh, so you’re saying I shouldn’t do…this?” She lifted her completely white hand and cupped his cheek.

  He cringed, then realized he didn’t feel moisture against his skin. “If that paint on your hand had been wet, I’d be turning you over my knee and spanking you right now.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oooh, sounds kinky. I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing.”

  “I’m not,” he replied. He had to know. “Are you?”

  She turned her head slightly and peeked at him through lowered lashes. “Light S and M? Well, lots of my customers are.”

  He couldn’t resist asking, “Light S and M? How, exactly, would that differ from the heavy variety?”

  She shrugged. “It’s more playful, not for seriously weirded-out people. We don’t sell whips, belts or paddles. But some couples enjoy the occasional black leather dominatrix outfit.”

  He had a sudden mental picture of her wearing black leather and clenched his jaw.

  “And, of course, there’s also light bondage. Handcuffs, silk scarves, blindfolds. It’s all part of the fantasy.”

  “Fantasy?” God help him. Even though it might give him another long, sleepless night, he really wanted to know her fantasies. “Like?”

  “Like being overwhelmed,” she admitted softly. “Letting yourself be overcome by passion, even made helpless when you’re with someone you can trust.” She bit the corner of her lip, as if deciding to continue. “Exploring every possibility, going as far as your body can go, without being able to stop, because someone you know would never hurt you is in complete control.”

  Kate was nearly covered with paint from head to toe. Her thick, dark hair was pulled haphazardly into a ponytail at the back of her neck. She wore no makeup and she held a drippy paint roller plopping little drops of paint on the plastic drop cloth every time she moved it.

  He’d never wanted her more.

  Jack had walked hip-deep into this conversation, so he had no one else to blame. And he couldn’t quite find a way to get out of it. Nor was he sure he wanted to.

  “Is that your fantasy?” He heard the thick tone in his voice. “Being overwhelmed? Letting someone you trust give you pleasure without any mental barriers, any restrictions, taking because you have no other choice but to take?”

  “I think so,” she murmured. “Being free to wring every ounce of gratification you can because it’s beyond your control to stop it.”

  In twenty seconds Kate had just made him understand the appeal of silk scarves and handcuffs.

  “You must be really good at your job,” he said softly. “Though, I still don’t get the whole spanking thing.”

  She gave him a wicked grin. “Well, I don’t particularly care for pain, but I have to say you are very good at kissing and making all better.”

  Remembering kissing her hip in the shower the other night, he knew exactly what she meant. His body reacted instinctively, another sudden rush of heat rushing southward from his gut to his groin. “Now, I could take that the wrong way and be offended,” he said, stepping closer.

  “Oh?”

  He nodded. “You just basically told me to kiss your ass. I could take it as an insult.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Or a really tempting invitation.”

  Her lips parted and her tongue snaked out to moisten them.

  “Which do you think it was?”

  Unable to resist, he lifted a hand to her throat, running his finger down and touching its hollow. “I think if this were a week ago, it’d be an insult. Today, I’m not so sure.”

  She closed her eyes, tilting her head back as he traced a path around her neck, to her collarbone, touching her only with the tips of his fingers. “Me, neither,” she admitted.

  Needing to feel her in his arms again, Jack tilted her chin up and caught her mouth with his own. She moaned, parting her lips, inviting him deeper, and he accepted her invitation.

  He loved kissing Kate. Every time was better than the last, hot and sweet, carnal and tender. He made love to her mouth, tasting her, drinking of her, making no effort to step away to disguise his body’s reaction. She pressed against him, moaning again as he moved his mouth to press kisses on her jaw. “It’s hard to find a clean spot,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Here’s one,” she whispered, pushing the sleeve of her tank top, and her bra strap, to the edge of her shoulder. A naughty invitation, which he immediately accepted. He kissed down her neck, to her collarbone, and right below it.

  “Where else?” he asked, nudging the cotton top down even lower. She answered with only a soft sigh and an arch in her back, telling him to proceed. He did, scraping his tongue down to the top curve of her breast, then sliding it lower to flick at her pebbled nipple.

  She quivered in his arms, and leaned back against the old refreshment counter. Appropriate. He wanted to completely gobble her up. But first he wanted to see her.

  As if he had no control over them, his hands moved to the waistband of her shorts and tugged her shirt free. He lifted it up, slowly, watching as the toned, creamy-colored skin of her stomach was revealed inch by inch. Until finally he saw the lace of her bra and the bottom curves of her breasts. His mouth went dry with hunger. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered as he moved his hands higher. She didn’t reply, just arched into his touch, twisting until he slipped his fingers beneath her bra. She hissed when he touched her nipples, tweaking them lightly, stroking and teasing the way he knew she’d liked when they’d made love before.

  “I have to taste you,” he muttered.

  Before Kate responded, Jack heard the front door of the theater open. Footsteps echoed on the tile floor. Acting instinctively, he yanked Kate’s shirt down, and turned to shield her behind him while she put herself back together.

  “Get a lot of work done?” someone called. Wincing, Jack watched as Miss Rose and her grinning brother entered the lobby. The older woman gave Jack and Kate a pointed glance. “If Jack wants to be covered with paint, he’s welcome to g
et on the scaffold and make a mess of himself, just like you have,” Rose said with a chuckle. “There was no need to share yours, Kate.”

  Kate scrunched her eyes closed, obviously embarrassed as hell. Jack chuckled and reached for a paint tray. “Okay, Kate, you were good enough to teach me one or two things this afternoon.” He winked. “How about I teach you how to paint?”

  * * *

  THROUGHOUT THE NEXT DAY, as Kate worked in the store with Cassie and some high school boys who followed her cousin around like puppy dogs, she kept wondering if she should move and stay with Cassie up on Lilac Hill. Even after everyone else left, leaving her alone in the shop to finish up some paperwork and cleaning, she thought about it. Cassie’s house would be safer. Having Jack next door was impossible, especially now, after what had happened yesterday. Their kiss in the theater had been intoxicating. If Miss Rose hadn’t come back when she did, they might have ended up rolling around on the floor, covering their naked bodies with the specks of paint littering the drop cloth.

  She should move. Jack was simply too tempting. Too disturbing. Sooner or later they were going to end up back in bed together, and she didn’t know if either of them was prepared for the consequences of that.

  One other thing disturbed her about being back in town.

  “Hiya, Kate! How’s the store coming along?”

  Friendliness. Damn, she really couldn’t get used to that.

  Pausing with her hand filled with the paper towels she’d been using to clean the front window of the store early Thursday evening, she turned around. Diane. New owner of the Downtown Deli, whom Kate had met during her one-day trip to town, then again when she’d gone in for lunch Monday. “Good, thanks.”

  “I remember when we were gearing up to open,” the sweet-faced strawberry-blonde continued, as if not noticing Kate’s less-than-welcoming reply. “We got a chilly reception from some of the other merchants, let me tell you.” She cast a critical glance toward the Tea Room. “You’d have thought we murdered Mr. Simmons, instead of just buying the deli from him.”

  “I can’t believe he finally decided to retire. He was as crusty as his sub rolls.” Kate chuckled. “I bet he wanted you to promise never to put mayonnaise on an Italian sub, didn’t he?”

  Diane’s eyes widened. “Yes, he did!”

  “He called it a sacrilege whenever I ordered one for Mom.”

  “Well, I waited on your mother more times than I can count, and I never once deprived her of her mayonnaise,” the other woman replied. “How’s she doing down there in sunny Florida, anyway? We sure do miss her at the Bunko Club.”

  Kate’s eyes widened. They missed her? At the Bunko Club? And what the hell was a Bunko Club? “I didn’t realize you knew her.”

  Diane snorted. “Darlin’, you’ve been gone a long time if you’ve forgotten that everyone knows everyone here. Edie was the first one at my door with a homemade apple pie when me and Will moved into the apartment above the deli. She’s a real doll.”

  From behind Diane, Kate heard another voice. “Edie? You bet your life she is. Although, it sure was a nightmare getting her raggedy nails fixed all up. The woman worked too hard!”

  Kate looked past Diane to see the young woman she’d met her first day in town. The friendly one from the nail salon. She looked different—her hair now being purple instead of a reddish orange. And the number of earrings had increased. But the welcoming grin was the same.

  “Hi, again,” Kate offered, unable to resist the smile.

  “I sure never expected to see you here washing windows. Get in there and get some gloves on before you ruin that manicure.”

  Kate glanced down at her hands.

  “On second thought, don’t. Come by my shop after you’re done and we’ll fix you right up. And we’ll have a long gab. Okay?”

  “This is Josie,” Diane interjected. “Don’t make any pussycat jokes or she’ll use too much glue on your acrylics then refuse to fill ’em. You’ll have to pry them off with a crowbar.”

  Josie stuck her tongue out at the other woman, then turned her attention to Kate. “And you’re Kate Jones. Edie’s long-lost, super-successful daughter, cousin of the supermodel who has Sheriff Taggart going around in circles.”

  She talked so fast Kate had a hard time keeping up.

  “Oh, really?”

  Diane nodded. “His ex-girlfriend, Annie—she’s the dispatcher—says Tag starts acting like a grizzly bear with a burr in his butt whenever he has a run-in with your cousin.”

  He hadn’t looked like a grizzly Saturday night when he’d come to the shop at 1:00 a.m. No, he’d looked more like a panther. Dark and dangerous. She hoped Cassie knew what she was doing.

  “Uh, can I ask a stupid question?”

  “Anything,” Diane replied.

  “What’s Bunko?”

  The other woman linked her arm in Kate’s. “You’ve never played Bunko? It’s the woman’s version of poker night. The Lilac Hill types have their bridge club. We prefer Bunko. A dice game, rotated among the homes of the club members. Twice a month we meet to talk, laugh and play. The hostess provides the prizes.”

  “The members provide the bourbon,” Josie added helpfully.

  Kate laughed out loud. “Sounds like fun.” Surprisingly, she meant it. She could see how her mother would have enjoyed something so simple yet charming.

  “Then it’s settled, you come to our next game, which happens to be tomorrow night at Eileen Saginaw’s house.”

  Kate’s smile widened in genuine pleasure. “Eileen is my mom’s best friend. I’d love to see her again.”

  And as easy as that, Kate found herself committed to a social event with some of the women of Pleasantville.

  What is wrong with this picture?

  “Now, tell us what you’re going to sell in your store,” Diane said. “Pretty please? Nobody knows anything more than it’s a ladies’ shop, and everybody’s going crazy trying to find out.”

  Kate bit her lip. These two were the nicest people she’d met so far in Pleasantville, but that didn’t mean they were going to welcome sex toys on the main drag of town.

  “It’s gotta be something good,” Josie said. “Tell me it’s real shoes. Real, decent shoes that don’t have rubber soles and plastic uppers. If you say you’re gonna carry Dr. Martens I’ll get down on the ground and kiss your toes. And I’ll give you a free pedicure while I’m down there.”

  Kate shook her head. “Sorry. Not shoes.”

  “Clothes. Oh, please let it be clothes,” Diane said. “The closest store to buy a decent dress is twenty miles away. And that’s not even one of those new super Wal-Marts, it’s just a plain old regular one.”

  Kate bit her lip and shook her head at Diane’s genuine consternation. “Sorry. Not clothes.” Not unless you counted crotchless panties and leather bustiers!

  Josie bounced on the toes of her chunky black boots like a kid waiting in line for Santa. “Then what?”

  “You’ll have to wait until our grand opening to find out.”

  “Grand opening?”

  She recognized that voice. Wincing, Kate turned around to see Jack standing right behind her. The man was quiet as a cat—she’d never even heard him approaching.

  Obviously neither had the other two women. Because she felt sure she’d have noticed those matching holy-cannoli-take-me-big-boy looks on their faces.

  “Hi, Jack,” she murmured. Her voice didn’t even shake. Amazing, since her heart had started racing like an out of control freight train speeding toward heartbreak junction.

  The man was too handsome. His smile too adorably sexy to be real, the twinkle in his brilliant green eyes too charming. He made women want to hug him. Then do him. Including Kate. Especially Kate.

  Diane and Josie spoke in unison. “Introduce us.”

  After she’d made introductions all the way around, and listened to Josie and Diane pump Jack for information about why on earth he’d waited so long to come back for a visit to Pleasan
tville, she tried to slide away. Evening was approaching, though it was still light out. She wanted to get inside and lock up. Mainly she wanted to get away before Jack started asking any more questions about her store.

  Just when she thought she might make a clean getaway, however, an old, beige Cadillac pulled up on the street and parked one building down, in front of the Tea Room.

  “Great,” Jack muttered. “It’s my ex-brother-in-law.”

  “Which one?” Josie said under her breath, her voice holding a definite note of sarcasm. Obviously she knew Angela.

  As Kate watched the man emerge from the Cadillac, she answered softly, “Darren.”

  9

  DARREN HADN’T CHANGED a great deal, though his face was rounder and his hair thinner than it had been in high school. His belly was rounder, too. He wasn’t fat, just soft and mellow-looking. Like a salesman.

  He nodded to Diane and Josie, barely glanced at Kate, then noticed Jack. His face paled and for a second Kate thought he was going to get back in his car and drive away. Then his shoulders straightened as he locked the car and walked around it to the sidewalk.

  Okay, so the jerk wasn’t a complete wimp. He wasn’t going to try to avoid his ex’s brother.

  “Hello, Jack, Josie. Diane.” Then he glanced toward Kate, as if waiting for an introduction. His eyes narrowed as he tilted his head. “You…my God, it’s Kate Jones.”

  “Hello, Darren.”

  “I had no idea you were back in town.”

  “Well, you know what they say about bad pennies.”

  “You look…wow, you look great,” he said, his eyes wide as he stared her up and down.

  Next door, the door to the Tea Room opened. Darren glanced past Kate, his face growing red. She knew darn well who stood there. “It was so nice seeing you, Darren. Be sure to say hi to your mom for me, okay?”

  She turned around. Mrs. McIntyre stood on the porch next door, all stiff-necked, righteous indignation. Another woman, one Kate didn’t recognize, stood with her. The two of them immediately started speaking in low voices. She couldn’t hear their words, but she got the message loud and clear.