Lake rang Kirsty’s doorbell at seven o’clock on the dot. He’d come empty handed because he wasn’t exactly sure what he was attending. Dinner for rivals? A date? A meeting about the fashion show? It seemed a bit presumptuous to turn up with flowers, or a bottle of wine, when there was that much confusion. He thought he’d been pretty clear. He wanted Kirsty, and if she was going to invite him over, then she had to know that. The problem was he wasn’t sure she knew what she wanted. He heard footsteps on the stairs and the door opened.
“You came,” she said a little breathlessly.
He liked her breathless. He’d like to see her a lot more breathless than that.
“You invited me,” he said.
“So I did.” She threw open the door and motioned for him to come in.
As he stepped past her, she peered anxiously into the street and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
“Are you worried about that loser ex of yours?”
He sure as hell was. So far his research into Brandon—what kind of sissy name was that, anyway?—was setting off more alarm bells than he’d wanted.
“No.” She waved away the notion, which made him feel slightly relieved. “Food,” she said, and pointed at the stairs.
“After you.”
She climbed the stairs in front of him. Which meant he got to watch her hips sway all the way up to the top. And they swayed beautifully in that figure-hugging green dress she wore.
“Welcome to my home,” Kirsty said as they went into the living room.
Lake took off his denim jacket and handed it to her. She opened a closet and hung it up, every movement infused with nerves. He’d never seen her so jumpy. Even the day she’d posed in the street she’d been calmer than this, and that was saying a lot.
Lake decided to take matters into his own hands. Watching Kirsty bumble through, trying to make him feel welcome, was painful. Before she could stop him, he stepped towards her, cupped the back of her head and pressed his mouth to those plump, juicy lips of hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck instantly and relaxed against him. Lake ran the tip of his tongue over her bottom lip, seeking access, and almost went weak at the knees when she opened her mouth without hesitation. He stepped closer to her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight against him as he kissed her thoroughly.
“Now you don’t need to worry about when I’m going to kiss you,” he said when he reluctantly stepped away from her.
“Maybe you should have been worried about if I was going to kiss you,” she said.
Her eyelids were heavy with desire and her lips were plump from his kisses.
“Yeah, I was so worried about that.”
“You are too cocky for your own good, you know that?”
“I’ve been told it a time or two, yeah.” He grinned.
When Kirsty was done scowling at him, it seemed like she wasn’t sure what to do next. He watched as she tried to figure it out.
“I could use a drink,” he said when he lost patience. “If you have one?”
She looked to heaven and muttered something under her breath.
“Of course, what would you like?”
“What have you got?”
Kirsty grimaced.
“Everything,” she said as she walked into the kitchen. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got everything.”
She signalled to the counter and, sure enough, there was a bottle of pretty much everything he’d come across in the local supermarket. He lifted one of the cartons.
“Guava juice?”
“Panic buy,” she said as she opened a cupboard high on the wall and came out with two glasses, one for juice and one for wine. She handed both to him.
Lake grinned at her.
“You really don’t have folk over to dinner that often, do you?”
Her beautiful green eyes blinked at him, then she swallowed hard.
“You’re the first,” she said.
Lake stilled, holding the glasses.
“First?”
“You’re the first man I’ve ever invited up here,” she said, and turned away to stir something on the stove, as though her confession was nothing.
Lake felt his chest expand as he poured himself some guava juice. He was the first. Kirsty looked over her shoulder at him nervously. She smiled when she saw what he was drinking.
“Thought I’d give it a try, seeing as you went to so much trouble.” He gestured towards the counter top. “I’ve got a lot to get through.”
She laughed a deep, throaty laugh that made the nerves in his body zing. Suddenly, making her laugh again went up his list of priorities for the evening.
“What’s for dinner?” he said as he perched on one of the stools beside the breakfast bar.
“Steak,” she said. “Men like steak.”
He grinned at her back.
“They do,” she said over her shoulder. “Right?”
“Men love steak.”
Her shoulders relaxed at his words, which made him wonder just how many dates Kirsty had been on.
“So,” he said casually, “you don’t date much?”
“Smooth topic change,” Kirsty told him as she poured some guava juice into the empty wine glass. “Are you poking around hoping for information on my love life?”
He shrugged. The answer was yes, but he wasn’t going to say it out loud.
“It’s no big deal. It’s probably all online for you to read, if you make the effort.” She sipped the juice. “Yum,” she told him.
Lake stared at her. “Yum” indeed.
“So are you going to tell me all about your sordid past, or are you going to make me dig around some more?”
“You’re not one for small talk, are you, Lake?”
“I can do it when I have to,” he said.
He was hoping this wasn’t one of those times. She smiled at him.
“I was engaged to Brandon for six months. We’d been together two years.”
“You were really going to marry that loser?”
He found that hard to believe. From his limited research he’d been repulsed by the guy. Not only was he as dodgy as a three-pound coin, the pictures showed that he dyed his hair and had a tan that bordered on orange.
“He could be very charming.”
“That isn’t reason to marry someone.”
“I thought I was in love.” She shrugged.
“But you know now you weren’t?”
“I know a lot of things now that I didn’t know then,” she said darkly. “Lots of things I wish I didn’t know.”
Like pain, Lake thought.
“And before the moron?”
He was pleased that she laughed. He loved the sound of her laugh. It was borderline dirty and promised things he badly wanted.
“Before Brandon, the skanky thief, there was the odd date, mainly with other models. Nothing serious. I was too busy working to go for anything serious. Before that there was Brian. He was my teenage crush. He’s still around, married to a girl called Joanne. They have two kids and run a farm outside of town.”
“You obviously have a thing for guys with names beginning with B,” he said drolly.
“What about you? Girl in every port?”
She leaned against the counter, keeping things casual, but he could tell she really wanted to know.
“That’s the navy. I was special forces.”
“Well...where did you keep your girls, then?”
“You make it sound like I had a harem.”
She fixed him with a look.
“Fine, there isn’t much to tell. No one serious, anyway.” He shrugged.
He sure as hell wasn’t going to go into detail about his years chasing army groupies. They frequented the pubs in every town he’d been stationed in, and they were only too happy to be caught. That was back when he was young and stupid, and thought if his dick stayed in his pants two days straight it would shrivel and fall off.
“No one serious, then?”
> She licked her bottom lip and he was distracted for the moment.
“There was a girl called Carla, for a while, but it fizzled out.”
“What happened?”
Kirsty pushed a plate with crackers and dip towards him.
“Come on, Lake,” she teased. “You’re the one who didn’t want to do small talk. I wasn’t the one who brought up the topic of past romance. ‘Fess up or call chicken.”
He straightened in his stool. Chicken his hairy behind.
“Carla wanted to get married and have kids. I didn’t.”
Something shifted in Kirsty’s manner.
“You’re one of those guys, then,” she said.
“Those guys?”
“Playboy, not interested in settling down.”
Lake bristled. He sure as hell wasn’t a playboy.
“I said I didn’t want to get married and settle down with Carla. She was...” He cast around for the right term. “Flighty,” he said eventually. The last straw for him had been when she’d taken up reading auras. He could get that kind of crap from his family. He didn’t need it from his girlfriend too.
“But no,” he told Kirsty. “I’m not against marriage. In general.”
They stared at each other for a moment. Lake could have sworn that the temperature shot up in the kitchen. At last Kirsty blinked and turned away.
“How do you like your steak?” She reached for a pan.
“Medium rare,” he said.
For some reason he was rewarded by a smile that lit up his world.
The fact Lake hated small talk actually made Kirsty feel more relaxed rather than less. She wanted to know about him. She was curious. He wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met before. Plus it was a relief to talk. She’d been half expecting him to jump her as soon as she opened the door. She’d been thrilled, and terrified, at the thought. But now a new thought was creeping through her brain. What if he’d changed his mind about her? What if he didn’t want her any more? What if the scars had put him off? Stupidly, that thought was growing louder by the minute, while the more sane thought of whether or not she wanted him was being drowned out.
They took their food to the little round dining table in the corner of her living room. It was nestled into a space by the window. Kirsty had spent ages setting the room up, making sure that the atmosphere was perfect. She wanted her home to be comfortable and welcoming, the lighting to hint at romance and the food to seduce. A little. Not a lot. She didn’t want anything to give out the “slut” message. She also didn’t want anything set in stone, just in case she changed her mind and sent him packing. She tried to stifle a sigh as she put her plate on the table. Unfortunately, Lake heard her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to stand beside him. He hooked an arm around her waist and looked down at her.
“You have no idea why you invited me over, do you?” he said.
“I thought I did.”
He ran his free hand over his chin.
“Okay,” he said. “How about this? Nothing is going to happen between me and you unless you want it to. Why don’t we eat and see where it goes after that?”
Kirsty’s stomach lurched. It was the scars. He didn’t want her any more. She turned her head and was about to pull away when he yanked her back.
“Just in case there is any confusion, I know where I want this evening to go. Straight through to the bedroom, with you naked on top of me.”
She gasped as her cheeks burned. Lake’s eyes darkened. And then something caught Kirsty’s attention out of the corner of her eye.
She looked out of the window, and clear as day, under the streetlights, she could see her mother, Heather and Shona. They were dressed head to toe in black. They even had black makeup smeared on their faces. And it looked like they were trying to break into Lake’s shop.
“Kirsty.” Lake shook her lightly to get her attention. “What is it?”
Lake’s head turned to the window to see what was holding Kirsty’s attention. Kirsty panicked. She grabbed Lake’s chin, turned his head back towards her and kissed him.
Lake was picking up mixed messages. One minute she was as scared as a cat in a box of dogs. The next she was kissing him like he was dinner and she was ravenous. He didn’t stop it. No matter what the reason, it was always good to have Kirsty’s lips on his. He pulled her hard against his chest. It wasn’t close enough. And when she made that little sighing noise deep in her throat, he wanted to lift her up and march to the bedroom. His muscles actually hurt from the effort it took to stop them. He growled when she pulled away, pleased to see that she looked flushed and disorientated. His hand curved down her waist and over her hip as she reached behind him. It took him a minute to realise that she was shutting the curtains.
“That’s better,” she said before taking her seat at the table.
Lake didn’t care whether the curtains were drawn or not; it wasn’t like there was anyone to look in. His flat was directly opposite and it was empty. Rainne was with Alastair. Betty was watching TV with a cardboard cut-out of him in a tux—one he couldn’t get back. He’d had to go buy another for the shop. And he was at Kirsty’s trying to figure out what was going on in her head.
“So,” she said with a lot more enthusiasm than the word deserved. “I’ve just realised that outside of Invertary and your plan for lingerie domination, I don’t know anything about you. Tell me about your life.”
She smiled a little too brightly as she cut her meat.
“My whole life?” he said.
“Only the interesting bits.” There was a clang outside. Kirsty jumped. She smiled, more flustered than before. “Tell me about being in the war. Men like to talk about war. Right?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. It was as though she’d read some manual somewhere on the likes and dislikes of all men and he was reaping the benefits.
“Men like steak. Men like war. Men like beer and football and women,” he said. “How about we forget what ‘men’ like and concentrate on hanging out with each other?”
“Of course, of course.” She forked some mashed potato.
She was far more distracted than he wanted her to be. Something was going on in her head and he couldn’t figure out what it was. There was a loud curse from outside. Kirsty jumped to her feet.
“Music. I forgot music.” She marched to the stereo.
Lake narrowed his eyes at her as music blasted into the room. She looked at him and chewed her bottom lip.
“Too loud?” She adjusted the volume.
Lake still thought it was too loud, but he didn’t say anything. He was also beginning to think that Kirsty might be on the edge of a nervous breakdown.
“You were saying?” she said brightly.
Lake stared at her for a moment. Her cheeks were flushed and she had the same kind of panicked look that animals get in front of an approaching car.
“I was saying that you need to relax. This is only dinner.”
“Yes.” Her eyes went to the plate as though she’d forgotten it was there.
She stood up quickly.
“I need to get something, I mean do something, in the bedroom. I’ll be right back.”
And then she was gone.
Lake stared after her in astonishment. He honestly didn’t know what to think. So he flicked off the stereo and returned to his food, where he polished off the meat. A few seconds later he heard mumbling in the other room. He let his head drop with a sigh. Now she was talking to herself. With resignation, he went to find out what kind of crazy mess he’d gotten himself into this time.
“What the heck are you doing?” Kirsty hissed into her mobile phone as she looked out of her bedroom window.
Her mother stood in the middle of the street looking up at Kirsty as she talked back.
“We’re trying to break into the shop like you told us to,” said her mum.
“At the back of the building,” Kirsty said in exasperation. “You’re supposed to be at the back. No one breaks into a shop on
the high street. There are people. And lights. This is insane.”
“Don’t you call me insane, young lady,” her mother said in that tone mothers were gifted during childbirth. “You forget that we’re doing this for you.”
“Fine. I’m sorry.” Kirsty pinched the bridge of her nose. “You need to break in at the back of the shop.”
“We tried, but it was too dark and we forgot to bring a torch.”
Kirsty wanted to bang her head against the wall.
“What the heck is Shona doing?” she said.
“She’s picking the lock with some bobby pins. She saw it on CSI.”
Kirsty didn’t say anything.
“It’s taking a wee while. It’s harder than it looks on TV.”
“Look,” Kirsty said. “Lake is sitting beside the living room window. You guys need to keep it down. Every time there’s a noise he looks at the curtains. He’s going to see you.”
“Well, distract him,” said her mother. “For goodness’ sake, Kirsty, use your womanly wiles.”
“I did not just hear that coming from your mouth,” Kirsty said.
“What? Do you think I’m too old to know about womanly wiles? I’m fifty-six, Kirsty, I’m not dead. Get in there and be distracting.”
She pointed her phone at Kirsty to make her point. Then she dropped it. Kirsty watched her fumble for the phone, then try to figure out how to dial Kirsty back. Meanwhile, behind her, Shona was trying to pick a lock with hairpins and Heather was sitting on the edge of the pavement eating a chocolate bar. Kirsty dialled her mother back.
“Just smash the window,” she said.
Her mother looked horrified.
“I can’t smash a piece of glass that big,” her mother said. “That’s wrong. Plus you were complaining about little noises. That would be a big noise. You’ll have to do a lot of distracting to make sure he didn’t hear that.”
“Smash the little window. The one on the door,” Kirsty said. She was beginning to believe that she got her intellect from her father.
“Oh,” her mum said.
She turned and said something to Shona. The three women looked at the door. Shona shrugged and Heather nodded.
“Okay,” her mother said, “we can do that, but we’re worried about an alarm. Does Lake have the shop alarmed?”
“How the heck should I know?”
“Kirsty Campbell, if I hear that tone again we’re all going home.”
“Fine. I’ll find out.”
“Lake,” she shouted as she covered the mouthpiece on her phone. “Just curious, but does your shop have an alarm system?”
“Subtle,” she heard her mum say. “Very subtle.”
Lake was about ten seconds away from rolling on the floor with laughter. When he’d sauntered up the hall to hear what crazy pep talk Kirsty was giving herself, he really hadn’t expected this. He’d peered around the door, saw her at the window and on the phone, listened for a minute with a grin on his face, then went to look out of the living room window. This was priceless. The Three Stooges were breaking into his shop. He hadn’t seen anything this hilarious since—well, ever. Kirsty’s dinner was getting cold, so he reached for her plate and ate her steak while he watched the show.
“Lake,” Kirsty shouted from the bedroom. “Just curious, but does your shop have an alarm system?”
He choked on a bit of steak. He thumped himself on the chest while tears streamed down his face, he was laughing so hard.
“No,” he shouted in a strangled voice. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” was the reply.
He wiped his face and grinned widely. One thing was for sure: Kirsty was not cut out for subterfuge. He watched as her mum talked some more on the phone while staring up at Kirsty. He could see where Kirsty got her skills. Lake poured himself a glass of wine and settled back. He knew he should intervene and stop the women from breaking into his place, but he honestly couldn’t. He really wanted to see what would happen next.
“Are you coming to eat your dinner?” he called. “Or should I come join you in the bedroom?”
“No!” Kirsty squealed. “I mean, I’ll be there in a second.”
He saw her mother point to Kirsty’s living room as she obviously ordered her daughter to get back in and deal with her guest. A few seconds later, Kirsty appeared. Lake wiped his face of all emotion, tried not to think about how funny this was and smiled at Kirsty.
“What were you doing in there, anyway?”
Panic flashed in her eyes. She hadn’t even prepared a story to excuse her disappearance.
“Folding laundry,” she said at last. “I can’t get it out of my head if it sits there, and I want to concentrate on you.”
She sat down elegantly at the table.
“You ate my steak,” she said incredulously.
“I thought it was going to waste. Cold steak isn’t as good. Plus, men like steak. Right?”
She scowled at him. It was cute. She put her phone on the table beside her and played around with her mashed potato and green beans. Lake waited her out. He definitely wasn’t going to make things easy for her.
The phone buzzed.
“Excuse me,” she said. “This could be important.”
She read the text, her lips practically moving along with the words. Then she glanced from the screen to Lake. Whatever it was, he was about to be distracted again. Excellent. She put the phone down and stood up. She began gathering dishes that were still half full of food.
“Come on, we’re going to the kitchen to get pudding. You’re helping.”
Lake picked up what he could and did as he was told. The kitchen was conveniently located at the back of the flat—well away from the windows that overlooked the street and his shop. As Kirsty put the dishes on the sink, her phone buzzed again. She read the message and looked at him nervously. He wondered if she even knew that she bit her bottom lip every time something worried her.
“I’ll wait in the living room,” he said to wind her up.
“No!” She opened the freezer and yanked out a tub of ice cream. “You take this. I’ll get the bowls.”
He was momentarily distracted when she bent over to retrieve two bowls from the cupboard under the counter. The silky smooth material of her dress hugged every delightful curve and made his mouth water at the sight. Without thinking, Lake took a step towards her, still holding the tub of ice cream. There was a loud crash and the sound of breaking glass. Oh, hell. He hung his head. The Stooges were trashing his place. Kirsty jerked upwards, stepped back and slammed into Lake, sending the ice cream flying to the floor. The mess made a vanilla puddle at their feet.
“Can this evening get any worse?” Kirsty wailed as she reached for a cloth.
Lake took pity on her. Clearly she wasn’t cut out for this level of stress.
“Here, let me help,” he said as he crouched beside her.
He reached for the cupboard under the sink, the place people usually kept all their cleaning stuff.
“Don’t open that,” Kirsty screeched beside him.
It was too late.
As Lake read the lists written on the inside of Kirsty’s cupboard doors, he grinned even wider. This evening was just getting better and better.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lingerie Wars Page 13