Kara (Starkis Family #4)

by Cheryl Douglas

  “Want to go back to my place and have a look at the plans?” I asked, nipping her earlobe before gliding my tongue over it. “I could really use your input.” I often worked with an interior designer from the inception, but I hadn’t this time, maybe because the only designer I wanted to work with on this project was Kara.

  “Oh, I’d love to.”

  I loved how excited she was about the project. It gave me hope that maybe she’d allowed herself to consider the possibility of one day sharing the house with me.

  We walked along the beach hand-in-hand, and I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Now that I’d kissed her again and felt free to touch her, I didn’t want to stop. We were no longer hovering in that gray area, questioning what was appropriate. I felt as though we were finally moving into the light and things were becoming clearer.

  “I thought we’d do barbequed chicken for dinner, if that’s okay with you?”

  “Not your mother’s recipe?” she asked, wide-eyed. “God, I haven’t had that in years. I’m salivating just thinking about it.”

  My mother was an amazing cook. Neighbors had often dropped by right around mealtime to chat just so they would get an invite to stay for dinner. When both of our families had been here, we’d usually do a potluck at one house or the other, each contributing the group’s favorites. God, I missed that.

  “Plus twice-baked potatoes, homemade coleslaw, sweet potato pie, and my mother’s homemade rolls.”

  She gaped at me. “You’re making all that?”

  I laughed. “No, I can’t take credit for all of it. My mother was here a few weeks ago, baking up a storm. She left some things in the freezer.”

  “How are your parents? I haven’t seen them in ages.”

  “They’re good. How about yours?”

  “Now that my father’s semi-retired, they’re able to travel more. This might be the last new restaurant we open for a while, in fact.”

  “What does that mean for you, Cat, and Darius? Your jobs all revolve around the new constructions projects, right?”

  “Yeah.” She seemed pensive when she said, “Our first restaurant is fifteen years old now, definitely ready for a makeover, so I could focus on that. It would keep me busy for a while.”

  “You ever think about getting back into residential design?” I knew that had been her first love, and she’d never considered any other career options. From the time she was a kid, she wanted to be an interior designer.

  “I’ve thought about it, but it would be like starting all over again. I’ve gotten so comfortable in the commercial world.”

  “It could be a new challenge for you, a new phase, maybe? You’ve helped your father realize his vision. Maybe now it’s time for you to do your own thing?”

  I knew if we had a future together, we would both have to make some compromises with respect to our careers. I currently traveled all over the world, working on projects that often took the better part of a year to build. I loved it, but I was also getting tired. I felt the need to put down roots, and that was what the house in the Hamptons represented for me.

  “Maybe,” she said. “I’ll have to start weighing my options in the next few years. Cat and Darius will have to do that even sooner.”

  “You think they’ll both go back to Chicago at the end of this project?”

  “Cat’s skills are transferrable,” she explained. “She could find a place in the home office, I’m sure. It’s different for Darius though. He really loves being hands-on, seeing things being built.”

  “Hmm.” Someone like Darius could definitely be an asset to my team.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked, looking at me.

  “Just letting my mind wander, I guess.” I kissed her hand. “Imagining all the possibilities.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked, smiling.

  “I guess I never thought about how closely aligned our careers are: yours, mine, Cat’s, and your brother’s.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  If they were willing to stay on in New York after the restaurant was finished, that opened up all kinds of possibilities. “Y’all weren’t interested in the day-to-day operations of the business?”

  “No way.” She shook her head. “That’s something we were all very clear about from the beginning. We wanted to be involved in the development of the new restaurants, but when they were finished, we wanted to hand the keys over to the management team and walk away.”

  I understood that feeling. By the end of a particularly challenging project, I couldn’t wait to hand the keys over to the homeowners and wash my hands of it.

  “You’ve had so many amazing projects over the years,” she said, squeezing my hand. “Have you ever created a house for a client and wished you could have kept it for yourself?”

  “Sure,” I said, thinking about a house I’d built in Belize for wealthy American clients I’d known for years. “There’ve been a few I would have liked to hold on to.”

  “Did you ever imagine you’d develop the reputation you have in less than ten years?” she asked, her eyes shining with excitement. “I mean, you’ve been called the next Frank Lloyd Wright. Doesn’t that just blow your mind?”

  I laughed at her enthusiasm but couldn’t deny the pride I heard in her voice when she talked about my accomplishments, and it made every sacrifice I’d made to get here worth it. “It does, but I don’t allow myself to get caught up in the accolades. That’s not to say I don’t appreciate the fact that people respect what I do…”

  “I know there’s a but coming. What is it?”

  “Sometimes things get bigger than you ever intended, and it ends up changing you in ways you never expected.” We climbed the stone steps leading from the beach to my deck, and I opened the gate for her. “I always wanted to be an architect, and I love it, but things have kind of taken on a life of their own.”

  “How so?” she asked, turning to face me.

  I held her hands, knowing intuitively she would understand in a way Jana had never been able to. Jana’s life revolved around her work, and she couldn’t understand why, at the height of my career, I craved more balance, more time to relax and have fun.

  “I don’t mean to sound arrogant,” I said, knowing there was no way to voice it without making me sound that way, “but I’m in demand now. Some people are willing to wait a few years for me to work on their projects, and it’s flattering, don’t get me wrong, but it’s also tiring. Sometimes I just want to get away from it all, you know? Forget who I am, what I do, and how many people want a piece of me.” I glanced at my fishing boat tied to the dock. “I just want to go out on the water, drop my lines, and forget about life for a while.”

  “That’s why this place is so important to you,” she said. “It’s your haven.”

  “Exactly.” I’d known she would understand. We’d talked about similar feelings a lot growing up. We had different pressures back then—school, exams, and family expectations—but this had always been our place to get away from it all and just be together. “It wasn’t easy for me to take time away from my other projects to focus on this place, but I had to.”

  “The timing was perfect,” she said quietly. “The fact that we’re both here at the same time…”

  “Maybe it’s fate?”

  She smiled. “I like to think so.”

  Knowing that she felt as I did, that maybe we were fated to be together, gave me a hope that we could find our way back to where we’d been when things fell apart.

  “Um, do your parents know that you ran into me, that we’re talking again?” she asked, leading me toward one of the lounge chairs.

  When she tried to claim the chair beside me, I pulled her down on mine and settled her between my legs as I wrapped my arms around her. “Yeah, they know. How about your parents?”

  “I haven’t told them yet.” She threaded her hand through mine. “I wasn’t sure if I should.”

  I wasn’t pleased to hear she was still
hesitant, but I understood her need to be cautious. We had a hell of a lot of baggage to sort through. “Why?”

  “You know my parents aren’t as traditional as Uncle Demi and Teta Vaso. While they’d like us to marry someone Greek-Orthodox, they won’t be disappointed in us if we don’t.”

  After growing up around the Starkis family, I felt I understood their culture almost as well as they did. I’d been to their church, enjoyed their customary holiday dinners, participated in their wedding ceremonies, and visited their village in Greece. I understood how much their home and their customs meant to them, and I respected that, as did my family. “Your father came to me before the wedding and asked me if I would convert. I said no.”

  She tilted her head back to look at me. “Really? I didn’t know that. I’m sorry he asked that of you. I know religion was important in your house, that your parents are still devout Baptists.”

  “I wasn’t offended,” I assured her. Unlike most, I’d never been intimidated by her wealthy father. We’d always had a respectful relationship, and he knew I wasn’t afraid to disagree with him. “I stated my case, he stated his, and we agreed to disagree.”

  “Every man I’ve dated since you has been so intimidated at the prospect of meeting my father.” She laughed. “I suppose that’s why he’s never been crazy about any of them. Compared to you, they were all meek and timid. You know how much my father hates that.”

  I couldn’t deny it hurt to think about her introducing other men to her family, but I was curious. “Have there been many guys worthy of meeting the parents?”

  “No, like I said, I haven’t been into serious relationships. But you know how it is; it’s no fun going to weddings and fundraisers alone. My parents met my dates at events like that.”

  “Hmmm.” I didn’t want to talk or think about the past. Only the present and future. “How about I bring those plans out so you can have a look at them before dinner?”

  “I’d love that.”

  Chapter Ten

  Kara

  I’d seen my share of architectural drawings over the years, and I had seen Dustin’s old sketches of the house he wanted to build, so I’d thought I knew what to expect. But his renderings blew me away.

  I smoothed my hand over the edges of the curling paper. “Wow, this is going to be spectacular.” I noted the size in the bottom corner—3,280 square feet on each floor. It would be a big house, bigger than I’d envisioned, and it made me wonder whether he planned to have a large family to make use of it. “Five bedrooms?”

  He laughed. “I went back and forth about that for a while. But I figure three kids’ rooms, a master, and a guest room would be about right. Even if I only have a couple of kids, I’m sure they’ll want to have friends sleep over.”

  Even if I only have a couple of kids. I didn’t want to think about him having kids with anyone else.

  “It will be beautiful,” I whispered, feeling compelled to say something. I wandered to the railing, looking out over the water as I questioned whether being here with him was a mistake. I didn’t know where this was going or where I wanted it go, but one thing was becoming clear: I was falling for him all over again.

  “Hey,” he said, coming up behind me. “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “Nothing.” I couldn’t tell him the truth. This time last week he’d been engaged to another woman and planning to share this house with her. I couldn’t expect him to start thinking about a future with me so soon. It wasn’t fair, especially after all we’d been through.

  He stood beside me, leaning over the railing. “I can tell when something’s bothering you, Kara.”

  That was one of the challenges of dealing with someone who knew me so well. He could read my moods. Sometimes it felt as though he could read my mind. “I just don’t know where this is going. I don’t even know where I want it to go. Do you?”

  He smirked. “No, I don’t. I’m still attracted to you. I guess that much is obvious.”

  “I don’t…” I didn’t even know if I should say it. “I can’t have just a physical relationship with you. That day on the boat, I thought maybe I could, but I was just fooling myself. We have too much history.”

  “That we do,” he said, lacing his hands. “I feel the same way. If we sleep together again, it’ll mean something to me. It’ll be because I see a future with you.”

  I could barely breathe. Hearing Dustin speak of a future with me made me realize how much I still wanted that, how much I still wanted him. “I’m scared. Being with you again is making me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time.”

  He tipped his head toward me, his eyes scanning my face. “You’re not the only one who’s scared. I am too.”

  “It’s not too late to bail on this whole idea.” I had to give him an out before we got in too deep. For my sake as well as his.

  He turned around, bracing his elbows on the railing. “Really? ‘Cause I’m beginning to think it is too late.”

  I closed my eyes as the breeze drifted over my face. I willed him to kiss me, yet I was afraid he would. If he did, that would dissolve my will. I would be his for the taking, whether he wanted me or not.

  “Do you know how gorgeous you are?” he asked, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “I can’t stop thinking about how incredible it felt to make love to you. Ever since I saw you on the beach today, walking toward me, all I’ve been able to think about is taking you to bed.”

  I opened my eyes, my breath hitching when I saw the heat in his gaze. He was serious. He wanted me as much as before, maybe more.

  “But I can’t do that without knowing you’re mine.” He ran his hand over my cheek, and I instinctively turned into it. “I don’t want just your body or your heart or your head. I want it all. I want to know it’s all mine, that you’re all mine.”

  No other man had ever talked to me the way he did or layered me in thrill bumps with just a few carefully chosen words.

  “I want to know that I’m the only man you want in your bed, that when you’re thinking about forever, you think about it with me.”

  I blew out a long, slow breath, trembling with emotion. I was afraid to speak, afraid not to. I wanted him to know how I felt about him, but tearing down that wall and being exposed was terrifying.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling. I need to know.”

  “I want you.” It really was as simple as that. I wanted this man to be mine, my lover, my husband, my forever. “I’ve never stopped wanting you.”

  He reached for my hand and tugged me flush against his powerful body. His hands roamed over my shoulders, down my back, before settling on my ass. His arousal was evident, saying without words that he was as turned on as I was.

  “Do you know what you’re getting into?” He pushed my tank top up so he could caress my bare back while his lips skimmed my neck. “You remember how hot it used to be?”

  I nodded as I slanted my head back, encouraging him to continue the exploration. “I remember.” My body remembered. It had been years since I’d felt so alive, as though my nerve endings were buzzing with expectation.

  “That’s nothing compared to what I want to do to you now.” His hands drifted over my ribs, cupping my breasts.

  I was vaguely aware of the fact we were outside and easy prey for prying eyes, but I didn’t care. If he’d asked me strip naked so he could take me on the picnic table, I probably would have.

  “I want to erase every image that’s been tormenting me for the past eight years,” he whispered, releasing the front clasp on my bra before his thumbs hypnotically circled my nipples. “Every vision of you kissing another man…”

  He claimed my mouth in a kiss so hot and hungry it had me thrusting my hands up his shirt, needing to feel his skin against mine. He’d already succeeded in pushing all thoughts of other men out of my head, but I knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d erased every memory of them from my mind. He wanted a clean slate, a fresh start, and I wanted that too.
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br />   He turned us so his back was facing the door as he continued kissing me, intuitively moving around the furniture until we were at the entrance to his house. I reached around him to turn the handle, and he stepped up, taking me with him before he kicked the door closed, never breaking the kiss. His hands were tangled in my hair, his tongue warring with mine as he moaned into my mouth.

  I pulled at the hem of his T-shirt, anxious for him to be rid of it, as he reached for the waistband of my shorts. He made quick work of the button and zipper before sliding them over my hips. I assumed we wouldn’t make it farther than the couch, but he chose to prolong the wait by guiding me up the stairs to the bedroom.

  I saw so many questions flicker in his hazel eyes: Are you sure? Are you ready for this? Is it too soon? Do you want me?

  God, yes. So ready. No. More than anything.

  I shed my tank top, tossing it and my bra aside, as he walked backward toward the bedroom with me in front of him. He responded by stepping out of his shorts, and my breath caught at the sight of him. I’d seen him without a shirt on the deck and boat, but the tension in his muscular body reminded me how forceful he could be. God, I’d missed that, a man who knew how far to push, when to retreat, and how to make me want to beg for more.

  His room had been redecorated, which was a relief. I didn’t want memories of the past to come between us tonight. We weren’t the same people we’d been the last time we made love. We were mature adults now, entering into a relationship with our eyes wide open, intent on burying our regrets and resurrecting our love.

  The late afternoon sun filtering through the window would have made me self-conscious years ago. I would have thought I was too thin, my breasts too small. I would have assumed he wanted more, but now I knew he wanted me, that I was enough. I always had been enough for him, and the way he was looking at me made me believe I always would be.

  “Lie down,” he whispered when the backs of his legs hit the bench in front of the bed.