“I don’t know much about the science stuff,” Sam said with a salacious grin, “but I’d pay good money to watch that man dig a hole in the ground with no shirt on.”
“Mmmm hmmm,” Chloe echoed.
Kendall made a face. “That’s part of the reason I couldn’t be serious about him.”
“Why?” Sam asked. “You only go for the scrawny geeks like Greg?”
“Greg was a cute geek,” Kendall protested. “And despite some of the problems we had . . .”
“Like the fact that he was a rat-bastard cheater,” Sam interrupted.
“I prefer ratfink. Despite that,” Kendall continued, “he’s what I’m looking for in a guy: successful, polished, professional. We fit.”
“But you didn’t fit,” Chloe argued. “You only thought you did. A man who could hurt you the way Greg did is not someone you want in your life, no matter how much he looks the part.”
Kendall said nothing. Chloe’s quiet insight cut directly to the heart of the matter.
Kendall didn’t want to think about Greg’s cheating or Ty Bishop. Especially Ty and the way his body fit perfectly over hers. The way her heart had softened when he’d held her then pounded as passion consumed them both. She grabbed the bag of chips from the counter.
“Let’s go check out my other prospects,” she said lightly.
Chloe touched her arm. “I mean it, Ken. You deserve someone who will respect and cherish you for who you are.”
Too bad Kendall wasn’t sure who she was.
She saw the pain in Chloe’s pale gray eyes and knew her friend also spoke from firsthand experience with a bad man. She put her arms around Chloe’s small shoulders and squeezed. “We all deserve that,” she murmured against Chloe’s dark curls.
Kendall felt Sam’s arms tighten around her back and the three friends stood in the kitchen in an awkward hug. Sam’s voice was as gentle as Chloe’s had been when she said, “I still think you should give the hottie a chance.”
Laughing, Kendall rolled her eyes. “Fine. Anyone for dating profiles?”
“I can’t wait.” Sam grinned and walked into Kendall’s living room.
The application was straightforward. It asked for the man’s name, address, age, height, weight, occupation, and why he should be chosen to date Kendall. It also requested that a photograph of the applicant be included, along with a short video introduction. Kendall had expected maybe a dozen men to apply, but by the time Chloe finished pulling the one-page forms out of the envelope, there was a stack of more than sixty applications sitting on the coffee table.
Kendall took a fortifying drink of wine. “I can’t believe it,” she breathed.
“The ads only started running two days ago,” Chloe said. “You have a ton of possibilities here.”
“Want to take a couple for yourself?” Chloe hadn’t been on one date since they’d become friends. Kendall knew Chloe’s first marriage had ended badly but believed her sweet friend deserved a second chance at finding love.
Chloe shook her head. “My cat provides all the companionship I need.”
Before Kendall could respond, Sam snatched several sheets from the top of the stack. “Don’t think of foisting any of these potential swains on me either. But they like you, Ken. They really like you. I’ve got a lawyer, a doctor, and a mortgage broker here.” She flipped through a few more of the applications. “Ha. This one says he’d be a good fit because his favorite color is blue and you wear blue suits on the news a lot.”
“I do?”
Chloe rifled through another stack of papers. “This guy is six four and a banker.” She pushed a photo across the table toward Kendall. “He looks like your type—buttoned up but still cute.”
Gingerly, Kendall picked up the picture. The man smiling back at her in an elegant suit looked exactly like the sort of guy she would normally be attracted to: handsome, professional, and sophisticated.
She couldn’t muster one speck of interest.
She told herself it was because of the bizarre situation. Men applying to date her on camera should be what accounted for her indifference toward any of the potential candidates. She would have sworn on a mile-high stack of Bibles that it was not her increasing attraction to a certain gorgeous landscaper with golden skin and work-roughened hands that made her wish she could back out of the dating show. But she knew it was a lie.
Sam and Chloe stayed for another few hours, creating details about the applicants that became more salacious as they neared the bottom of the pile. The raunchy banter put the situation into perspective. At least to a point.
“Yuck. I can’t believe you think someone would name his dingle Tex,” she complained to Sam after a particularly graphic analysis of one candidate. “How am I going to keep a straight face if I end up going to dinner with that guy?”
“I can’t believe you can say the word dingle with a straight face,” Sam shot back. “What is this, third grade? Besides, if the producers set you up with a guy who poses next to his pick-up truck, sporting leather chaps, his beer gut, and a smile, you’re going to need to laugh your way through the date just to keep your sanity.”
Kendall glanced at the glossy photo and grimaced. “They wouldn’t, would they?”
Chloe patted her hand. “There are a number of nice men who are interested in being part of the show. You filled out a similar questionnaire and the people at the station know you. I’m sure it will be fine.”
“Just to be on the safe side . . .” Sam said, folding the picture of the overweight cowboy and placing it, along with the corresponding application, in the empty chip bag.
“Thanks,” Kendall said.
Sam winked. “My pleasure.”
Chloe stood, picking up the crumpled bag and empty wine bottle. “I should get going. I have a clown and a face painter scheduled in the store tomorrow so there’s bound to be a crowd.”
“Do you need help?” Kendall offered. Every so often, she got to pitch in at the toy store Chloe owned.
“Thanks, but I’ll have reinforcements,” Chloe said over her shoulder as she walked toward the kitchen to throw out the night’s trash.
When she disappeared, Sam leaned forward. “Ken, about Greg. Don’t blame Chloe for anything. She wanted to tell you, but I made her promise.”
Kendall squeezed Sam’s long fingers. “You need to tell me if you get a bad feeling about someone I’m seeing. I trust you.” She tightened her grip until Sam winced slightly. “But lay off with the big time come-ons. A guy hardly has a fighting chance when you bring out the heavy artillery.”
Sam met Kendall’s gaze squarely. “Trust me, honey, I could have walked into the room naked and barely caused a raised eyebrow. He only had eyes for you.”
A flush of warmth spread through Kendall. She didn’t want Sam to see how much it meant to hear that, so she stood quickly. Immediately, the room started spinning and she plopped back down on the couch.
“Ugh.”
Sam gathered the wine glasses and headed toward the kitchen, calling to Chloe, “Someone’s hit the sauce a little heavy tonight.”
Kendall lay flat against the cushions, staring at the ceiling, until the walls stopped dancing around her. She lifted her head when Sam and Chloe returned to the living room. “Was I the only one drinking tonight?”
“The second bottle was pretty much all you,” Sam answered.
“There was a second bottle?”
“It’s ok,” Chloe tried to reassure her. “You’re not driving. Can we get you anything before we go?”
Kendall shook her head and lights danced in front of her eyes. She lay back against the sofa before she made herself sick. “I’m fine. Would you make sure the front door locks behind you? I don’t think I can make it there on my own.”
First Sam then Chloe bent down to kiss her cheek. “Try a hamburger in the mornin
g,” Chloe suggested as she brushed the hair off of Kendall’s forehead. “The grease helps a hangover.”
“That’s disgusting,” Sam complained.
Kendall gave her a bleary smile. “Whatever works.”
Chloe dimmed the living room lights and the two women left. Kendall tried closing her eyes, but the room spun again. Staring at the ceiling, she crossed her hands over her chest and propped her feet against the armrest at one end of the couch.
She tried to clear her mind, but thoughts and memories trickled across. She was so grateful for Sam and Chloe, two friends who really knew who she was and liked her anyway. She had the unnerving suspicion that the same might be said about Ty. He seemed to have a remarkably accurate insight when it came to her.
She always hoped if she tried hard enough, she could one day forget about the girl who lived beneath the surface.
That girl had wanted nothing more than to fit in at the private school her parents couldn’t afford. After her humiliating first day, all she’d wanted was to be invisible to the other students. Kendall had been grateful for the plaid jumper that helped her look like all the other girls.
As it turned out, too much like one of them. On her second week at Graves, when she’d cautiously set her lunch tray down at one of the cafeteria tables near some of the kids who were in her class, the bubbly blond ringleader of the group asked loudly, “Is that my old uniform you’re wearing? There was hole at the bottom of the skirt so I got a new one this year.”
Kendall had answered honestly, “I don’t know.” She hadn’t known where her mother got the uniform, hadn’t questioned its appearance at their house two weeks earlier. More than likely, it was the girl’s uniform, bought secondhand and mended by her mother’s stiff fingers.
The feeling of utter mortification she’d felt all those years ago was still so strong the muscles of her stomach quivered in response. She rubbed her fingers against the flat of her abdomen, wishing she’d been able to soothe the embarrassed little girl she had been so easily.
That little girl had wanted to run from the bright lights of the school’s lunchroom back to her white-trash neighborhood with its double-wide trailer homes. All the kids she knew from home wore hand-me-down clothes and broken-in shoes with scuffed toes as well, but she didn’t fit in there either.
She’d swallowed her embarrassment and began saving money to buy a new uniform. She studied the girls in her class as intently as she did her homework, watching how they dressed, wore their hair, what they scribbled on their textbook covers. Without being too obvious, she imitated everything they did until she blended in so seamlessly they almost forgot she wasn’t one of them.
In a way, she was still using that method. Only these days, she studied her favorite anchorwomen. It was the reason she took time every morning, even on her days off, to apply makeup and style her hair. Even when she and Greg had spent the night together, she’d snuck out of bed before he woke to brush her teeth and dab gloss across her lips.
A lot of good that had done since he’d cheated on her. She studied a hairline crack running the length of her ceiling as she thought about that pain. He’d blamed her, said she’d been too cold, too wrapped up in her career to support him. Her friends had convinced her Greg’s infidelity was his problem, but his accusations still hurt.
Ty’s words came back to her, “It makes you more real.” The only place Kendall felt real was in her job. But in Ty’s arms, she’d wanted more. She’d wanted to let down her guard and allow him to see every piece of her, the bits she’d never shared with anyone else.
The questions and self-doubt swimming around in her head made it pound even harder. She focused on the future. Getting promoted to a real news position in New York would be the culmination of everything she’d worked for since that first year at Graves. It would finally prove that she was worthy of the life she’d craved for so long.
Her cell phone buzzed as a text came through.
Everything ok with your friends?
Ty. The fact that he was checking on her made her heart flip. She should ignore him, pretend the kiss never happened and focus only on his help with her story. But while she was used to being alone, some nights it felt . . . lonely. And the wine wasn’t helping.
Her thumbs were texting him back before her common sense could stop them.
They said you gave me a hickey.
When the screen stayed blank, she texted again.
You didn’t.
Her cell phone buzzed.
I wanted to taste you.
She smiled despite herself. Another text came through.
Do you want that too?
Now it was more than her brain that felt fuzzy. Her whole body flushed as she thought of his mouth on her skin. Flirting with Ty was not part of her plan. She tossed the phone to the side then picked it up again and typed in three letters. Stupid, but she couldn’t resist hitting “Send.”
Yes.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kendall arrived at the station Monday morning to a couple dozen elementary school students gathered in the lobby.
She briefly spoke to the teacher in charge of the group then approached the reception desk. “Is Julia a no-show again?” Channel 8 offered weekly tours to local schools, and it was the responsibility of the newest staff member to lead the tours. But the current junior reporter had a convenient habit of calling in sick most Monday mornings.
Mary nodded. “I had a voice mail waiting when I arrived. The tour was scheduled to start twenty minutes ago, but I can’t get anyone upstairs to answer my pages.” The older woman’s eyes narrowed. “I know they’re hiding from me, and I’m about to march up those stairs—”
“I’ll take them,” Kendall said with a laugh. “I came in early to work on my new assignment, but I can spare a few minutes.”
“You’re a lifesaver. Again.” Mary reached up to pat Kendall’s hand. “And in a good mood for the start of another work week. Must have been a good weekend?”
“Fantastic.” Kendall glanced at the kids milling about the reception area. She could tell by their faded T-shirts and well-worn sneakers that they weren’t from an affluent part of the city. These were the students she most enjoyed introducing to the newsroom, knowing how much that would have meant to her when she was that age. “There’s someone meeting me here in a half hour,” she said to the receptionist. “If he arrives before I’m through, please ask him to wait.”
“Or I could tag along on the tour,” a deep voice said from directly behind her.
Heat spread down the length of Kendall’s body at the sound of that rumbling tone. She spun around so fast she bumped against the receptionist desk. Ty Bishop stood silhouetted in the bright light spilling in from the large windows that encircled the lobby.
Wearing dark blue jeans, hiking boots, a burgundy button-down shirt, and a gray fleece vest zipped half way up, he looked like the poster boy for clean mountain living. He smiled and Kendall’s knees turned to rubber. It had been a much more enjoyable sensation when she’d been drinking.
She thought about her own outfit. She wore a snug fitting crew neck sweater, tennis shoes, and blue jeans. She’d changed several times, wanting to find the jeans that showed off her figure to the best advantage without being too obvious. Obvious like the blush she could feel creeping up her cheeks as he watched her, a smile curving one side of his mouth.
“I’m sorry,” Mary said quickly. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you. Your appointment is already here.”
Kendall struggled to keep the whirling emotions out of her voice. “That’s fine. Dr. Bishop can come with us.”
She introduced herself to the students, chaperones, and teachers and briefly explained how the station operated and what they’d see. Kendall had enjoyed leading the tours when she’d been new to her job and she didn’t mind filling in, especially when it gave her time to curb
her reaction to Ty.
As she led the group toward the newsroom on the main floor, Ty followed close on her heels. “What was so fantastic about your weekend?” he asked, his voice pitched so only she could hear.
“Nothing special. It’s my standard Monday morning response.”
“I had a great weekend, too,” he said. “Want to know why?”
“Nope.”
“There’s this woman,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “She smells like vanilla but tastes like chocolate. I think I may be addicted.”
She stumbled, her shin banging against the edge of the raised platform in the news studio. “Damn.”
“Ok there?” Ty took her elbow.
She shrugged off his touch and straightened. As the students filled into the rows of seats in the studio, she turned to face him. “I was eating ice cream when you came over. That’s where the chocolate taste came from.”
“What flavor?”
“Rocky Road. That doesn’t matter.”
He raised an eyebrow and flashed her a grin that turned her insides liquid. “I don’t know. I would have pegged you for more of a strawberry girl. Rocky Road adds something to the equation.”
“Stop distracting me. And don’t talk about how I taste. I’m working here.” She waved him away. “Go sit down.”
He gave her a small salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
She explained to the kids how the news broadcast was formatted then gave them a demonstration of the teleprompters and meteorology equipment, which was always the most popular part of the tour. She guided the tour upstairs for a walkthrough of the station offices before ending back in the lobby. After those first minutes, Ty hung back with the parent chaperones, which allowed her to gain a modicum of self-control.
The tour ended in the lobby, where she answered questions from the students. After a few random queries about their favorite TV shows and a reminder from the teacher to keep the questions focused on the tour, a small boy in front raised his hand. “Did you know there are over 200 dinosaur species that haven’t even been discovered yet?”
Kissing Mr. Right Page 8
