by Dawn Atkins
Where was the inventory of this? Fire, determination, hope? The intangibles that held people together in love? She knew about them, counted on it with clients. That was why she interviewed them. For the extra intuitive leaps she needed to find the right matches.
She picked up the papers and, holding Seth’s gaze, slowly tore them in pieces. “Not everything fits on a chart.”
“Oh, yeah?” He smiled that darling half smile.
“I’ve been wrong so many times in my own life…I was afraid to trust myself.”
“Come on, Janie. You’ve got a crusty cynic wanting two kids and how-was-your-day blather over meat loaf on Tuesdays. And cognac in front of the fire and moonlit walks and frickin’ calico cats.”
She laughed and knew he was right.
“Oh, and you in your Saturday panties.” He said the words low and leaned over to kiss her, soft and slow. “We never got to the sex attitudes on your profile. How did they come out?”
“Synchronicity,” she breathed.
“Are you sure?” He kissed her again and every instinct in her soul told her this was right. She’d never before given her heart. Not all of it. She’d held back. Maybe she’d chosen men she knew weren’t really available to her. But Seth was here—all of him—for her. This was the compatibility of hearts. The compatibility that counted.
THEY WENT to Janie’s place. Normally, she would offer him something to eat, put on some soft music, light some candles, don a sexy teddy and generally set the scene. But neither of them needed anything but each other. Seth took her in his arms and kissed her, and all she wanted was him and her together.
She didn’t need to fuss or fix or primp or hold in her stomach or turn the lights low. She was enough, just as she was, and she knew it, through and through.
“Are you okay?” he asked her, kissing her before she could answer.
“Fine,” she managed to mumble into his mouth. She broke away, took his hand and tugged him straight to her bedroom.
When they got there, he froze. “Condoms.” He patted his pocket. “I don’t have any.”
“I do, but I’m on the pill…”
“And I’m healthy as a horse.”
“Hung like one, too,” she said, surprising herself, but she felt so free with him that she could say anything.
“Flattery will get you laid,” he said, kissing her again, sliding down to her neck and working magic there for a few seconds. He held her backside in both broad palms. Oh, he did have the best hands.
Smiling into each other’s faces, they undressed each other, kissing every few seconds, as if for strength. Seth examined every inch of her as he uncovered it, studying her breasts like they were works of art, just the way he’d looked at her when he took her photographs. His looks were like touches, so intense, so vivid, she thought she might climax from that alone.
He squeezed her shoulders, then slid his grip down her arms. “I can’t believe I have you,” he said. He cupped both breasts in his fabulous hands.
“Oh, you have me,” she said, her legs turning to water. “Every inch of me.” She’d never felt this way making love to a man. She was offering up her entire being—body, heart, mind—and it was safe. Maybe because he was giving himself fully to her, too. I’m yours. Take good care of me. What could possibly be sexier than that?
He hugged her tight, wrapping his arms fully around her so she was completely enveloped in his embrace. The hard velvet of his erection was there, showing how much he wanted her, making her liquid with want. She slid her hips against him and he groaned, leveling his gaze, seething with new heat.
She backed up to her bed, threw back the covers and pulled him down with her. They lay face-to-face and explored each other’s bodies. This felt so new. Every inch of his skin, muscular and firm, seemed like a miracle. Every brush of his fingers set her on fire. He stroked her nipples, watching as they beaded with arousal. She rotated her hips toward him.
He reached down to cover her pubic area with his hot palm, sending a shudder through her. She ached for him, for all of him.
She grasped his penis and he pushed into her palm. Looking into each other’s eyes, they worked each other with their hands.
“I love how you feel,” she said.
“You, too. You’re soft and strong. I love that you’re both. Everywhere.”
She smiled, trying to focus on his words while his fingers were doing breath-stopping things to her sex. It confused her to feel so hot and so tender at the same time.
“I’m in love with you, Janie.”
“Me, too. With you.” That was all she could manage, with arousal prickling through her, rising in her brain like a hot tide. She wanted him inside her, wanted their bodies as close as bodies could be.
She shifted, put her leg over his, allowing space for him to enter her while they lay on their sides.
Seth eased slowly into her, watching her face, pushing in inch by inch, and she welcomed each tiny movement, which seemed like the gift of himself. The slick space she opened to him was her acceptance, the squeeze and release of her internal muscles her gift back. They clung to each other, arms wrapped tightly as they rocked their hips gently back and forth.
Wordlessly, they climbed the peak at a steadily building pace, their eyes fixed on each other’s, the blue of Seth’s smoky with desire…and love. Her orgasm warned her with a tingling rush.
“I’m about to…”
“I know,” he said and smiled that cocky smile. He watched until she had to close her eyes and cry out her pleasure.
“Janie,” he breathed in her ear and then he let go, too.
She’d had sex before, but not like this. Sex with love made all the difference in the world.
KYLIE GLANCED at Janie, smiling dreamily at the television set, her face glowing brighter than the screen. They were in the video room, Gail on Janie’s other side munching noisily on caramel corn, her bracelets clicking against the edge of the bowl. The newscast would start in a half hour. Seth was due soon.
Seth and Janie had fallen in love like one of Janie’s Close-Ups on fast-forward. In fact, it had something to do with Seth’s video and a kiss. And Kylie was sick with worry. These things tended to end badly, and with Kylie in L.A., Janie would be all alone with her broken heart.
Again, she considered the possibility of staying in Phoenix, keeping K. Falls PR going. She could work on contract with S-Mickey-B, discount her rate to compensate for any inconvenience she’d cause….
She became aware that Janie was looking at her.
“Something wrong?” Janie asked.
“No,” she said, trying to smile. “I’m just worrying.”
“It’ll be fine. You said yourself we nailed the interviews.”
“It’s not the news piece.”
“Oh, no.” She groaned loudly. “You’re worrying about Seth and me. Just stop, Kylie Rachel. I’m happy. Really. This is different. I know it is.”
“Take things slow, okay? Don’t do anything drastic.”
Janie put her arms around Kylie and delivered a bruising hug. “I know what I’m doing.”
It was true that she’d never seen Janie look so sure before, but it was too soon to tell. And she’d be too far away to help.
The phone rang and Gail left the sofa to grab it. “Personal Touch, can I help you…? Marco? Hon, get outside, get some air. You’re spending a fortune on these calls. Sign with Personal Touch and you’ll bank cash. I swear… What? No, you don’t have to lose fifty pounds. We have zaftig women. You prefer what? Now, now. We don’t discriminate based on weight, so neither should you.”
Kylie smiled at Janie. Gail was a great saleswoman. If things went well, Janie would have her do sales full-time.
“I wish Seth would get here. I miss him already. Can you believe that? I never missed a guy before.”
This was bad. Dangerous. She’d really get hurt this time. “Just be careful. Please.”
“Oh, relax. I should have invited Cole—given you
something to do besides worry about me. He’s called three times to check on you.”
“I’m fine. It’s over. Why drag it out?” Because Kylie was dying to see him. Each time he’d called, she’d itched to say, Yes, please come over. Support me, comfort me, hold my hand, make me feel better about every little thing. Pure weakness on her part.
“What are you afraid of, Kylie?” Janie asked gently.
“Everything,” Kylie said on a moan. “Half the time I think I’ll just stay in Phoenix.”
“Really? You’re considering that? Oh, that would be great!”
“I’m scared it’s for the wrong reasons.”
“Because of Cole? Would that be so bad?”
“It would be terrible. It’s not healthy to need anyone that much. You of all people should understand that.”
“You think that was my problem? Needing the guy too much?” Janie shook her head. “I chose the wrong guys to need. I picked the ones who weren’t really there. People who love each other need each other, Kylie. Not for survival, of course, and not to the point of losing their identity, but that’s what it’s about—sharing it all—the blues, the wins, all that for-better-for-worse jazz. You don’t get a medal for doing it on your own. Life’s a team sport.”
“You say that now because it’s new and exciting. You’re forgetting how miserable you get. Lost and so very sad. I hate seeing you that way.” She felt the knot of fear, the bubble of nausea rise up. Please don’t get hurt.
“I know you do and I appreciate your concern. Maybe it won’t work out, but it’s worth it to see. Sometimes life hurts. I know you want to save me from every toe stub, but I can handle it, I promise. I do know how to breathe.”
“I guess,” she said. She let Janie’s words sink in. Maybe she had been too much of a big sister to Janie. Kylie thought about that photo Cole had admired on her window ledge where she’d practically choked poor Janie with her protective death grip. “I remember when you were so shy in fifth grade and you squeezed my hand looking up at me with eyes big as moons, asking me to make it all right.”
Janie chuckled. “Hon, that’s not what I was thinking. I was thinking, ‘You love me so much.’ I didn’t need you to make it right. I just needed you to love me. I could handle my life and the pain when it came.”
Kylie stared at her sister, reframing the moment in light of what she’d said. Maybe Kylie should have trusted her sister more to be okay on her own. Certainly now. She was a grown woman. Mature and sensible…and madly in love. But was she safe?
“The person who needs you is Cole,” Gail said abruptly. She’d finished with Marco the Masturbator and was back on the bench.
“Why do you say that?”
“Here.” She thrust the bowl of caramel corn at Kylie and bounded over to the video racks, where she grabbed a tape and popped it into the VCR. “See for yourself.” She pushed play and Kylie watched as Cole flickered into view in his Close-Up, with his crookedly rolled-up sleeves, his awkward posture and nervous smile.
Before she could point out she’d already seen it, Gail pushed fast forward and stopped at a spot Kylie hadn’t seen. Here the camera showed a much sweatier, more miserable Cole slumped on the stool.
“Go deeper,” came Gail’s muffled voice.
Cole wiped his brow with an extended arm, then blew out a breath. “Deeper? Okay…I guess sometimes I feel a little…empty. I wonder what I’m working so hard for. I want to help the clients and the firm, I want financial security and prestige, but at some point it’s just money. I want to be working for something—someone, I guess.” He shrugged, then seemed to sit up straighter.
“Here’s what I want—to open my eyes Sunday mornings smiling into the face of the woman I love. I want to read interesting bits out of the paper to her and sing songs to her in the shower, get her opinion on everything from what tie goes with what shirt to global economics.
“I want a woman who’ll help me sort it out and do it right. Someone I can laugh with…hell, someone I can just stare at the TV with. This sounds stupid. Stop the tape, please.”
Gail complained, then the tape went black.
“Holy Hannah,” Janie said. “Why didn’t you show me this, Gail? I might have thought twice about Deborah with Cole. She’s not soft enough for him.”
Kylie took a bite of crunchy corn and chewed slowly, the sweet warmth filling her mouth the way Cole’s words eased through her thoughts. He needed her. He’d said as much when he told her he loved her. And she’d blown him off in a panic, not heard, not listened.
The picture of them together on Sunday with twin papers rose in her head, Comedy Central in the background. You can rest here. Just be. The idea was so glorious it took her breath away. She’d closed her eyes to the possibility, thrown up barriers—the ghost of Deborah, Cole’s laundry list of corporate wife characteristics, her move to L.A., her relentless ambition.
But it was all just smoke, she realized, looking at his dear face on the video. This was real. This was what counted. Cole needing her. And her needing him.
“What are you afraid of, Kylie Rachel?” Janie asked softly.
Tears sprang to her eyes and for once she just let them roll. “I don’t know. My own heart, I think.”
Janie put her arms around her with a sad smile, new authority in her eyes. “It’s the hurt, sweetie. You’ve always been scared of it. You used to drag me all over town whenever we moved to exorcise the pain, remember? The minute I’d pull out the photo album to remember my friends, to just feel my love for them—and my grief—you’d whip me out of there to a water park or a bike ride or to a movie. New adventures, new fun, new friends. That was your mantra.”
Janie was right. Her sister was much wiser than Kylie had ever given her credit for.
“But it made you feel better, didn’t it?”
“Not really. You made me feel better by loving me, by being there for me, by looking at me like you’d rather die than see me hurt or sad.”
“Oh, Janie,” she said and hugged her back harder than she’d ever done before, really feeling it now—her love, the old worry for Janie and her health and her heart. It hurt like hell. But it also made her feel fully alive.
“You have to change, Kylie Rachel.” Janie leaned back to look into her eyes.
In the background, she heard Gail sniff. Her bracelets rattled as she reached across Janie to grab some corn.
“You can’t run away from love because you might get hurt,” Janie continued. “That’s my lesson, too. All my analyses and inventories can’t guarantee a relationship will succeed. Only the people involved can do that. With faith and work and love.”
Janie looked at her and Kylie looked back, the words reverberating inside her, reaching deep to her very soul.
“Kylie? You okay?” Janie asked. “You look like you broke a tooth.”
“That’s just me seeing the light. It hurts a little.”
“Thank goodness.”
“If you need a dentist, though, I have a good one,” Gail said. “Divorced sister you could maybe talk into becoming a client.”
Kylie and Janie just laughed, looking into each other’s eyes. Love hurt, Kylie knew, but it also healed. And it was what mattered most in the world. She loved her sister. She loved her life and her work. And she loved Cole.
So much she’d scared herself away. But no more. She had to talk to him. Judging from her sister, love was worth the risk.
It would have to wait for the news, which was about to start. And maybe she had a better idea for how to do this….
“YOU WANT ME to go on a date?” Cole said to Janie. It was a mere two weeks since his breakup with Kylie and Janie had called him out of the blue.
“It’ll be good for you.”
He couldn’t imagine anything worse. “Thanks, but you’d better deactivate my file for a year or so. I’m not ready.” He wondered if he ever would be.
“Listen, the truth is, Cole, I need a favor. We’ve been swamped since the news story
aired and the new receptionist misbooked somebody. We need you to stand in for a guy…just this once.”
He’d seen the follow-up newscast, which had made Personal Touch look like the answer to every dating dilemma. The kiss-ass piece screamed, Please don’t sue us! to his attorney mind, but he’d been relieved for Janie, since he’d been partly the cause of the scandal.
“You want me as a stand-in date? The last time you did this, all hell broke loose.” He’d fallen in love with his stand-in and gotten his heart broken so hard it seemed permanently wrecked.
“This is an emergency. Besides, if I know you, you’ve been working too hard all week and you need a break. It’s Friday night, Cole.”
The truth was that lately, he’d been pretty balanced, leaving the office most nights by seven. He and Trisha had agreed to work as a team, bent on proving they could be successful and still have lives. But that didn’t mean he wanted a Friday night date.
“I have a dog waiting for me,” he said. He’d gone straight from returning Radar to his neighbor to a Cairn breeder and gotten Lulu, a sweet ball of furry energy that soothed his pain.
“I’m sure your dog wouldn’t begrudge you a few laughs over a quick dinner. Can’t a neighbor watch it?”
She could. “I’d rather not ask.”
“It’s just a dinner. I swear you won’t be sorry.”
“Janie…”
“Consider it a personal favor to me. Which you owe me after you almost lost me my company, remember? You don’t want me to burst into tears, do you?”
“No, I don’t.” She was laying it on thick, but he did owe her. His affair with Kylie had taught him the importance of balance. And the power of love.
He wanted to ask about Kylie…was she liking L.A.? Was she happy? But that would only hurt. Instead, he gave in and said, “Where and when and what’s her name?”
“You’ll be glad you went. Trust me.”
He did trust her. She knew what she was doing. The woman she’d selected for him—Deborah—had been his perfect match. She just hadn’t been Kylie.
In an hour, he sat at the same restaurant where he’d met Kylie—a painful irony—waiting for a medium-height brunette named Kay. For old time’s sake, he’d sat at the same table and ordered a martini. He half expected to see Kylie dash in, rumpled and ink-smeared and dripping with chocolate mint.
