by Unknown
“Limo…it’s part of the package. We pick up and deliver, that way no chance of accidents.”
“I’ll be taking that one off the ride home. I just have a feeling…”
“Your feelings always gave me a nervous stomach. Office friends?”
“Prosecutor’s office,” Dylan agreed. His gaze swept over the eleven women dancing and clapping, the bride to be the center of the last young man performing for the evening. Kate was swaying to the rock music and twirling a glass between one hand.
Dylan remained wandering the very large complex until a little after ten when Baron rang his cell phone, letting him know the party was breaking up and the girls were headed to the limo. His stride was long, weaving among the people to the main entrance. A conga line, led by the bride, was being danced to the waiting limo.
Kate felt good. Relaxed and limber. Dancing was another of the things she enjoyed a lot, especially with a group of friends. She felt the firm hands on her waist removed, her head turning to look for Chris only to find herself carefully taken out of the line. Chris continued on ahead of her.
“This one’s with me,” Dylan announced to the driver.
“Hey, I got eleven to deliver,” he protested mildly, checking the list on his clipboard. “She’s number 8.”
“Then tick her off, you’re off the hook for this one,” Dylan assured him, guiding Kate out of the milling people.
“Dylan! What’re you doing out here?” Kate stumbled but she wasn’t sure if it was the street or her feet. Dark, wide eyes peered into those maddeningly silver eyes that constantly seemed to be smiling at her like he knew some long buried secret. “You have beautiful eyes…” She whispered with a pat on his chest as she peered up at him.
“Okay…well, I’m giving you a ride home. Over this way,” he lifted a free hand with a wave to Baron. “So how was the girl thing?”
“Marvelous!” She breathed deeply, inhaling the sweetly chilled night air. “We danced and danced…and watched the guys dance…they are good,” she stated reverently.
He made sure she was buckled securely into the seat before closing the door and trotting lightly to the driver’s side of the car. He wondered if he would have been too jaded to have noticed her if she’d been in the audience when he was younger. He’d financed four years of grad school working with Baron at his club.
“Kate?”
“Yes, Dylan?” She was very relaxed, head back and eyes closed. Dylan was there. He’d take care of her. Somehow she knew that instinctively.
He chuckled softly and found the entrance to the highway. “What were you drinking?”
“Something with a lime in it,” she answered vaguely. “It was very tasty.”
“I’m sure it was,” he agreed quietly. He listened to the soft breathing and hummed along to the music he’d put in, parking the car thirty minutes later outside her apartment. He’d done the U-turn thing so he could get her out on the safe side of the street.
Dark lashes opened languidly when the sound of the car door broke through her consciousness, long legs moved to the ground. This skirt was definitely not made for a low sitting sports car, she thought with a hand on the open edge of the door. Kate exhaled deeply, willing the fog to go away.
“C’mon, Katie…up,” Dylan took both her hands and pulled gently, reached in and grabbed her small pack and locking the car behind them. Her steps were wobbly but only until she reached down and removed the heels. He was impressed when there was no reaction to what he knew was some really cold pavement. But her reaction was a little delayed.
“Holy crap this is cold,” Kate made an attempt to run, stumbled and was caught up against Dylan. She looked up at the looming stairs. They never seemed that high before.
“Let’s go, lady…can you climb the stairs, Kate?”
“Of course I can. I…am a grown-up,” she announced to the world, long fingernails clung to the railing and pulled.
“Yeah…I’ve used that line before. Don’t drink much, do you?” Dylan gave up waiting, turned her slightly and put his shoulder into her waist. She wore one of those barely loose skirts that held her legs nicely taut and made lifting her easy. He climbed the stairs and set her down outside the door.
“That was not very dignified,” Kate blinked, made an effort to straighten her blouse and sighed thickly. “I’m tired.”
“Where’s the key, Kate?”
“In here,” she held up her bag, shaking her whole body along with the bag.
Dylan felt his male mind whimper, ponytail and everything wiggling as she turned and faced the door.
“Hah! Here they are!”
He took the keys quickly in his hand before they vanished again, shoving the right one into the lock and pushing the door wide. “Can you manage these stairs?”
“What stairs?” Kate dropped her shoes and bag on the floor and fell face down on the sofa, toes hanging over the edge.
“Yeah, silly me…what stairs.” He locked the door and stood for a moment, rubbing his neck and considering the options. “Well…the bathroom is closer upstairs. Just in case, so let’s go, lady,” Dylan pushed her feet to the floor, realizing the logistics of the whole thing went much smoother in his mind. He watched her knees hit the carpet, hips following and dark eyes blinking in confusion up at him.
“You are very tall,” she announced with a sigh from her spot on the carpeting.
“Okay, let’s try this again,” he dropped to one knee and pulled on the hand she held out to him. “You don’t do this girl thing very often, do you?”
“Dylan, I’m not sure I like being upside down,” Kate giggled as her dangling hands patted his behind as he moved. “You have a really cute butt.”
His head shook, the laughter breaking free as he quickly climbed the stairs, dropping her lightly to the bed. He found the light switch and glanced around. Dressers, a cushiony chair, nightstands and a huge walk-in closet. His quick assessment told him she didn’t collect shoes like a lot of women.
“Kate, where are your pajamas?” Dylan turned from the closet when a blouse came flying over his head. She was in the process of wiggling out of the skirt when he offered a hand, holding the lacey briefs in place. His sanity could only handle so much in one night. And what she was wearing now was larger than a bikini would be, but that logic wasn’t helping that part of him that was male.
“Don’t do pj’s,” Kate ignored him and slid beneath the blankets, facing the window and wrapping her arms around the large, fluffy pillow.
“Shhhhh…it’s quiet time,” Kate admonished softly. “Good night.”
Dylan leaned back in the large recliner, eyes closed for a long minute. She was an adult, he told himself. More than capable. On the other hand, it did give him a viable excuse to stay, though the comfort in the chair was not so evident. He kicked his shoes off and moved to stretch out on the empty side of the bed, the light ocean breeze sifting into the room and barely noticed when his head hit the softness of the snowy pillow.
Kate tugged the band from her hair, fingers massaging her scalp as she slid her feet to the floor. Her brain was fuzzy, she decided, returning from the bathroom and snuggling down into the warmth of her bed. She was glad Darla had a great time at her party. Somewhere in her mind, she swore Dylan had been at the club. She was still thinking of that when she drifted to sleep again, the smell of toast and coffee making her nose twitch several hours later.
One eye opened with great reluctance, groaning at the numbers on the clock. She’d taken the day off on purpose. She knew what the morning after would feel like. She wanted a long skate then a long soak and time to get her hair and costume just right before leaving for the fundraiser. She didn�
��t have neighbors close enough where she could smell their cooking. She’d been there for three years and never smelled their food before.
Kate rolled to her back in the center of the bed, arms stretched above her head. She rolled again, kicking the blankets off and lying star fished out across the expanse. Long dark hair spread out as she gazed into the fog. No rain, she noted when the noise caught her attention behind her, sending her to her knees on the bed.
Dark wide eyes met the surprised expression appearing around the corner of the stairs. “Dylan??”
“Morning…I brought you some juice and toast. You said you were taking off today?” Dylan felt a part of his mind retreat. Wild haired, dark eyes and barely clad, Kate made an image that would be burned into his mind for a very long time. Until she went into a crazy scramble for the blankets, fingers shoving the long hair out of the way when she surfaced once again.
“I…yes…I…what are you…how did you…” she stared from the casual running clothes to the plate and glass in his hands.
“You don’t remember last night?”
“Last…of course…I most certainly…most of it,” she lost track of the indignation, scooting across the surface of the bed and planting her feet on the floor. She held up her palm in warning. “You. Back downstairs. Now.”
Dylan held up the offering.
“Put it on the nightstand.”
“You don’t remember,” he teased with a wink. “I should be hurt.”
“You…” Kate took in a long slow breath. She was still wearing the underwear she had on yesterday. “Are a fraud.”
He shrugged and chuckled. “It was worth seeing the surprise on your face. I brought you home last night and tucked you in. Figured we could run and skate together this morning. Then I’m off to the office for a few hours.”
“You stayed here? Here here?” She cleared her throat to get rid of the too high voice.
“There here, to be more precise,” he gestured to the bed, amazed at the size of her eyes. He set the food down and prudently backed up a few steps. “Kate…I’ll wait for you downstairs.”
Dylan was outside stretching when the door slammed above him, neatly bound up ponytail swinging as she ran down the stairs.
“How did you end up at the club last night to drive me home?” Kate perched on the edge of the step, sliding her feet into each skate and buckling down the latches.
“You told me the name of the club. I know the owner. What is it you were drinking?” Dylan set off along the path.
Kate sighed. “You know…I know it was tasty. And had a lime in it. I think it was called a vodka Collins. Wicked,” Kate said with a shake of her head. “Nyssa said…try it…it’s pretty good…I only had three of them. I’m not much of a drinker,” she admitted honestly.
“I kind of figured that one out. Drink lots of water today,” he advised. “On the upside, you’re a cute drunk,” Dylan barely heard her growl before she powered past him. He sighed and continued on his run.
It didn’t surprise him to see her leaning against the rail around the first curve, head down and hands on her knees.
“I have a sense of humor,” she said slowly. “And normally, I have a very good level of comprehension. I don’t know why you felt it necessary to bring me home, but thank you.”
“I saw your limo driver. Trust me. He could never have gotten you up the stairs to the door, and yes, eventually you would have found a way to navigate them. Let’s just say I had a feeling you’d need a little help. And you are most welcome.”
Following their pattern from their first meeting, they shared a coffee before returning to the house, Kate’s palm against his chest when he came toward the stairs.
“I have plans. Things I have to do to get ready for this evening. I will be at the fundraiser about six,” Kate took a step up after removing her skates, she kissed him firmly and shoved against his chest.
“How will I find you?”
“You’re a smart guy. Later, Dylan.”
She saw that charming grin on his face as he pulled away from the curb with a jaunty wave.
Chapter Fifteen
Simon Oliver sauntered around the very large ballroom. Hands in his pockets, the heavy brown jacket he wore shoved back to reveal the suspenders and crème colored shirt. He wore the holster for the blaster that went with the outfit, but it was safely empty. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the suspenders, but it all seemed to work well with the crème colored shirt and dark pants tucked neatly into a pair of boots. He noticed a tall man wearing crème colored pants, tucked into boots with a deep blue side buttoned shirt. What he mostly noticed was he wore the same kind of frustrated expression on his face that Simon felt.
“Let me guess…your date wanted to surprise you,” Simon commented in commiseration.
“A fellow victim,” Dylan held his palm out. “Dylan Grant.”
“Simon Oliver. Yeah…only I know she’s dressed in an obscene stretch fabric that will probably get us arrested.”
“At least you have a clue. I was told I’m a smart guy…holy hell,” Dylan felt his jaw drop, snapping his mouth closed with a clank of teeth.
“Wow…I know that character,” Simon followed his gaze.
Long hair waved and curled as she moved gracefully through the room. Her costume a mix between a belly dancer and a Geisha. Long silken pants were slit on the sides, exposing a lengthy expanse of bare leg. The top reminded him of a Jeannie’s outfit, low cut and dappled with sparkling gems as buttons down the front. Scarves of many colors acted as sleeves, like the legs, slit up the center and betraying a healthy expanse of skin. Bangles jingled softly at each wrist and she moved with the grace and pride of a princess.
“Huh…you said stretch fabric? Let me guess…Seven of Nine?” Dylan gestured to their left, glad to see Simon’s reaction much the same that his had been.
“The amount of blatant sexuality in those two is unreal.” Simon groaned loudly when they stopped in mid path. “Oh swell, they know each other. I swear to god that thing has to be painted on…” he saw her chatting and smiling, showing her friend the iPad she was using in character, fingers tapping across the screen in demonstration. Simon watched the silver blue of her one piece body suit shimmer beneath the soft light of the massive room. Chloe had done her hair with a temporary blond rinse and the addition of the clay implants completed the costume with a realism that was frightening.
Art from paintings to prints decorated the walls and all of them had some subject from television science fiction shows. And all the proceeds benefiting creative writing classes for local schools.
“I should have watched more TV,” Dylan said quietly, clapping Simon on the shoulder. “How about a beer? I hear they have some good local ales.”
“Good idea. Don’t know who she is? I recognize the character, because this,” he held his arms out. “Was the main character in the same show. Called ‘Firefly’. She’s called Inara and was what that century called a companion.”
“Huh,” Dylan saw Kate turn slowly around to show off her outfit to Chloe. “Beer. Cold.”
“Agreed,” they wandered off toward the section decorated like famous science fiction bars.
“They went to the bar,” Chloe nodded toward the men walking off. “They look good.”
“Yeah, no kidding. Simon fits that outfit perfectly. Andromedia…guess we should go join them.” Kate wandered into the bar area, very aware of the eyes following her and Chloe. She had to admit, there were some very good costumes there. She really liked the warrior princess ones, with large staves and realistic looking props. “I love scifi!” She breathed as she looped her arm with Dy
lan’s. “I see you’ve met…hi, I’m Kate and this is Chloe.”
“The costumes are so incredible,” Chloe leaned against the brass rail surrounding the high bar.
Half an hour later, Kate led Dylan to the dance floor. Neither of them were aware of people watching them, heads close together as they moved to the soft music.
“Why did I drive here alone, Kate?” Dylan liked the curving woman pressed softly against him as they danced. There was a sweet, flowery fragrance around her hair and the darkly smudged eyes were inviting with sexuality.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” she quipped, leaning back in his arm and gazing at him. “Too late to invite you in for coffee…and I don’t have wine. I could invite you over for a very…” her voice dropped to a low, sexy whisper. “Very long good night kiss.”