Here Comes Trouble

by Donna Kauffman

  She managed to pry her grip from the headboard and buried her fingers into his thick hair as he sprawled across the bed, his cheek pressed against her stomach, one arm splayed across her hips. He slid his free hand up to cup the side of her face, cradling her in his wide palm, as he stroked along her cheekbone with his thumb.

  She had never been so utterly and completely spent in her life. There was no actual thought, and a complete inability to form words. So she just laid there, sated in a way that went so far past the physical, she was grateful that her brain was too saturated to figure out the true deeper meaning of it all.

  So she simply enjoyed the weight of him, half draped across her body, feeling his heartbeat against her thigh as her own finally began to slow to some semblance of a normal pulse pattern. As she toyed with his hair, he continued to softly stroke the side of her face. She felt incredibly well loved…and, again, it reached past the physical. She closed her eyes and floated, purposely letting go of all thought.

  Because if she’d dwelled, for even a second longer, on how well loved she felt in that moment, on the richness and depth of emotion that he brought to her heart and soul, in a way she’d never even knew existed, much less ever experienced, then that burning sensation would build and well up behind her eyes again, and that deep, unending ache would bloom inside her heart. And it was too fine a moment to spoil with even a tinge of pain or sadness.

  Because Kirby was one lucky son of a bitch, too. And, for right that moment, that was damn well going to be enough.

  But, like all moments, fine or otherwise, this one had to come to an end. She felt Brett sigh even as she heard the sound of it, and his touch paused along the edge of her cheekbone.

  “Kirby,” he said, and the sound of her name, said in a voice so raw and raspy from the force of his lovemaking mere moments ago, threatened to bring those tears on anyway. Only now she couldn’t tell if they’d be of joy, or anguish…or some pathetic mix of both. She just knew she’d give a lot to hear him say her name, just like that, again. And again.

  “I—” She broke off, finding her voice raw, but her throat even tighter against those unshed tears. God, he was going to think her a basket case, unable to keep her act together whenever they had sex in a damn bed. She eased out from under him, knowing she was running away, but feeling retreat was, in this case, the better part of valor. Or at the very least, in retaining her some shred of her dignity. “I need to…” She didn’t finish, but hoped he’d fill in the blank as she slipped from the bed and ducked into the adjoining bathroom.

  She clicked the door shut softly behind her, praying he was spent enough that his awesome powers of perception didn’t see past her surface excuse and cause him to follow her.

  She went straight to the pedestal sink and ran cool water, sliding her hands under the steady stream and splashing the water lightly onto her face, then doing it again, hoping to quell the threat. When she finally felt like she was getting some semblance of a grip, she slowly lifted her face to the mirror. Her eyes were clear, not even a hint of pink. Good, she thought, and turned off the water as she grabbed a fluffy washcloth to pat her stubble-abraded cheeks dry.

  Now, she thought as she straightened, if I could only cool off my heart with a good cold splash.

  She took a steadying breath and turned away from the mirror, leaning back against the sink as she drew another breath, then another. She’d go back in there, crawl back into bed with a smile on her face, say something light, something funny, make him smile…and shift the tone back to one of teasing and playful banter. And away from…whatever the hell had just happened between them. Which was anything but light or playful.

  She wondered what he was thinking out there. What had he been feeling while he was taking her like that? What had it meant?

  She ducked her chin as a small, wry smile twisted her lips. He was probably just horny after not getting any regular time together with her, and right this very second, he was out there sound asleep with a stupid grin on his impossibly handsome face. And here she was thinking silly, pathetic romance and roses thoughts.

  But then she sighed and tipped her head back, and her smile grew into a grin that couldn’t be contained or twisted into something else. Maybe she didn’t know for sure what had been going through his mind during the last half hour, but that didn’t change what had felt like a life-altering moment for her. Even if, for him, it had just been stupendous sex, for her it had been once-in-a-lifetime special. She’d never been made to feel like that, not ever. And she refused to feel foolish for wanting to cherish the moment, savor the memory of it. Even if it was destined to never be repeated, she had that one time. And, oh my word, was it ever going to be memorable.

  Pushing away from the sink she stood, rolled her shoulders, and turned and finger-raked her hopelessly snarled hair as she stared defiantly at her reflection. “Living in the moment. That’s what I’m all about.” She gave up on the hair, thinking maybe she could con Brett into going down and starting dinner while she ducked into her own room and did a better job of making herself look like she hadn’t just been thoroughly ravished before his friend arrived. Her defiant expression dissolved into another helpless grin. “Except you were just thoroughly ravished. And you loved it.”

  She turned away from the mirror and opened the bathroom door, bracing herself for whatever was going to come at her next, only to find Brett sitting on the side of the bed, his back to her, with his cell phone propped against his ear.

  “Right, no. That’s fine, just…are you sure you’re okay?”

  Kirby leaned in the doorway, not wanting to intrude, but other than ducking back into the bathroom, having nowhere else to go at the moment. So she hung back and let him finish.

  “Tomorrow then? Okay, I’ll be over in the morning anyway for a meeting, we’ll—okay. Right. Night.” He clicked off his phone, stared at it for a moment, and shook his head and tossed it on the nightstand.

  “Everything okay?”

  He looked over his shoulder, his expression more bemused than anything. “Actually, I was just about to come in there and find that out for myself when my phone rang. That was Dan. He begged off dinner, claimed jet lag. He figured he’d enjoy room service and then crash. I invited him over for tomorrow, but whatever works with your schedule is fine with me. I was thinking maybe a late lunch after I get done with what I hope is the last coordination meeting in the morning. It’s only supposed to last an hour or so, but they get to talking and you know how it is.”

  She just stood there, taking him in, in all of his ridiculously casual glory, and marveled all over again that this was—that he was—somehow part of her day-to-day world. She had no idea what stupid expression was on her face, but he gradually trailed off as he realized she was not participating in the conversation but just staring at him. Standing naked in the bathroom doorway, arms folded, just…looking her fill. What would her life be like if this really was an everyday part of her normal routine?

  She watched him get up and walk toward her, equally unconcerned about his magnificent nakedness, a hint of that mischievous twinkle glinting in his eyes, an amused curve to his lips…and thought there was no such thing as a life that was this perfect. No one was that much of a lucky son of a bitch.

  “I have no idea what that cat-and-canary smile is on your face for,” he said, his voice still all deliciously gravelly, “but if it’s because you’re thinking anything like what I’m thinking, I say last one to the hot, pulsing shower spa is a rotten egg.”

  Then he made her squeal by darting forward and tugging her from her resting spot, snagging her around the waist and carting her into the bathroom and straight into the shower before setting her down again.

  “What if I don’t want to—”

  “Duck or get sprayed.” He flipped on the water levers and the three big shower heads all burst into life at the same time, just as she dove behind his back to keep from getting hit full force in the face. And to think the drenching shower spas h
ad been her idea.

  Although as the water turned hotter and the steam started to rise, she had to admit it had been a pretty damn good one.

  “Mmm,” was as articulate as she could get as the pulsing spray thrummed along her back and shoulders.

  Brett turned and pulled her into his arms so they were both positioned in a way to get the maximum effect from the opposite end shower heads. “Agreed,” he said, and tipped up her chin to kiss her. “Did I mention that I miss you?”

  She smiled against his wet mouth as water beat down on her head and ran down her cheeks. She was certain she had nothing on a drowned rat at the moment, but since he didn’t seem to care, neither did she. “I think you made that pretty clear a few moments ago,” she said. “Almost tempting to go a few more days apart just to see what that reunion would be like, but I’m not sure I could survive the bliss.”

  He chuckled, and when she blinked the water from her lashes to look at him, she could only think how purely happy he looked. She knew what that felt like.

  “Kirby,” he said, turning her just slightly so he blocked the water from her head and face. “Bliss is exactly what I’m feeling right now.”

  “Good to know the shower spa was a wise investment, then.”

  He smiled but ran his fingertips over her lips, making her shudder and her body leap right back to life again, which should have been anatomically impossible at that moment. But clearly was not.

  “I wasn’t talking about the shower spa, wonderful as it is. I was talking about you. Us. This.”

  She blinked a few more times, though it wasn’t water from the shower getting in her lashes this time. He really wasn’t going to do this now, here. Was he? The “it’s been incredible and you’re amazing, I’m going to miss you” speech? Now? Here? She wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not so soon after…

  “Kirby,” he said, his finger still pressed to the fullest part of her bottom lip.

  Which was now quivering, despite her best efforts not to. God, seriously, and she was supposedly the mature one here?

  His expression had grown serious. “What’s wrong? Too much, too soon? I know it’s a lot, but I can’t…I mean, I know I should probably pull back, go slow, or more slowly, but…God, there’s just so much there. So much more than I thought. And today…it all kind of came together and crystallized, and I couldn’t wait to tell you about it. That’s when I knew. I mean, I thought I knew before, missing you, wanting to be here more than anywhere else, all of it. But I couldn’t figure out the rest of the bigger picture. Until today.”

  “What are you talking about?” she said, pulling his hand down but unable to make herself pull away when he simply wove his fingers through hers. “Is this that thing you wanted to talk about before?”

  “It is. Only I was picturing telling you all about it over a quiet dinner, with wine and candles and no interruptions. Somehow we ended up here instead.”

  “Imagine that,” she said dryly, and not unkindly. He was too excited about whatever the hell it was he had to tell her for her to be upset, even if she was going to come out the loser at the end of it all. He was simply too pure, too genuine, and what you saw with Brett Hennessey was definitely what you got. And it was just so much. And all so good.

  How could she be upset? So what if it felt like one good tap and her heart would shatter into a million tiny pieces? She’d put it back together and move on. She was a champ at moving on. It was just…for all she thought she’d loved before, or wanted to love, nothing had come close to tapping into the part of her that Brett had so effortlessly reached with just a smile, a laugh, a twinkle in the eye. Could she have fallen that hard, that fast? She would have said no…but it was hard to break a heart that hadn’t been given.

  “I found a house,” he said, looking like a kid on Christmas morning.

  “You—what?” She hadn’t a clue what he was going to say, except that wasn’t even close to it. “Were you looking for one?”

  “No. I took off today, on my bike, so I could get away from the resort, the folks, everything, and just try and sort out what I wanted.”

  “Hasn’t that been the point of your whole journey?”

  “Yes…but this is the first time I was finally in a place that I didn’t want to leave.”

  Her heart started thumping, so loudly that between the shower and the thrumming in her ears, she couldn’t hear him. “You…want to stay? Here?”

  The ultimate grin that had been on his face a mere moment ago froze for a second, then faded. “I—maybe I presumed too much. I should have talked to you first, I know, it was just…you’d rather I not stay?”

  Her eyes widened. “No! I mean”—she paused, trying to calm herself down before she blew this—“I knew you probably wouldn’t, so I’ve been sort of trying to keep myself prepared for when you left. You’ve been here longer than I thought in the beginning, because of the event, and it’s made it really difficult to not…” She trailed off, knowing if she tried to explain even a fraction of her growing feelings for him, he would run fast and far. And she wouldn’t blame him. No one spouted stuff like that only a few weeks after meeting someone. Even if they had pretty much been living together since about eight hours after laying eyes on one another.

  God, when she thought it through like that it all sounded more than a little crazy and unstable. Only it had always felt anything but. Being with him, from the very first moment, had been easy and good and normal. And perfect.

  He tipped her chin up so their gazes met.

  “It’s been too good to be true,” she told him. “And I’m not the same lucky son of a bitch you are. Stuff like that doesn’t generally go the way I’d like it to.”

  There was so much in his expression she didn’t know if she dared allow herself to believe in it. There was hope, and joy, and this kind of deep well of affection she’d never seen directed at her, not like this.

  “Well, I am. And I know when to hold and when to fold.” He tugged her closer. “Kirby, I know I rolled into town and into your life without so much as a plan for my own. Not the best of situations to get yourself tangled up with, given how hard you’ve worked to get where you are to put roots down here. I knew I wanted to put down roots, to start building something to last a lifetime…I just didn’t know it would be here. And I didn’t know it would be with you.”

  Okay, now her heart was simply going to burst. “What are you saying?”

  “Were you planning on my leaving?”

  “I thought it was a given.”

  “How would you feel if I didn’t? If I stayed? I’m not saying I have to stay here, underfoot. I know we’ve kind of gone about this whole thing backward, and I’m not asking for some kind of commitment up front. Okay, maybe that’s wrong, maybe I am. Because I don’t want to share you. Or wait. But I am willing to work from the start, and build on this the right way. Whatever the hell way that is.”

  “What are you saying, Brett?”

  “I’m saying I want to stay here. I know what I want to do, and I’ve already found the first step in making it happen.”

  “The house?”

  “Not just any house. Kirby, wait until you see it. I wanted so badly for you to be there when I discovered it. I want your advice and input. In fact, I’d like you to help me with the whole project.”

  “Project?”

  He tipped his head back and let the water thrum on his face; then he shook it off and looked back at her. “I know I’m not making any sense.”

  She shook her head slowly, but that smile, that same one that wouldn’t go away in the bathroom earlier when she wanted so badly to get her perspective back, spread across her face again. “But you’re awfully damn cute about whatever it is that’s got you so excited. And to answer the one question you did ask that I did understand…” She reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand and slid it around so that her fingers wove into the wet curls plastered against the back of his neck. “I don’t mind you staying. Here, in this other place, in
a tent for all I care. But no,” she said softly, “I definitely don’t mind you staying.”

  Then she pulled his head down and kissed him, hoping he felt the commitment he was wanting from her. Because while she might be thoroughly confused on his plans for his future, she knew the one thing she absolutely wanted in hers.

  Chapter 16

  Brett worked on the sauce while Kirby chopped vegetables. “This is kind of how I imagined it would be. When I let myself think about things like that. As a kid, I mean.”

  Kirby looked up from her studious attempt at slicing tomatoes. “Like what would be?”

  “Home life. Partnership life.”

  “I take it you didn’t have this kind of life, then? Fixing dinners in the kitchen, that sort of thing?”

  He shook his head and stirred the sauce again. “I grew up in and around casinos.”

  “We’re more alike than you think. I grew up in a ski resort.”

  “Your folks ran one?”

  She shook her head. “No, I got abandoned in the restroom of one.”

  His eyes popped wide and he stopped stirring. “What? When? How old were you?”

  “Old enough to walk, but too little to remember any of it.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, it was a small resort town, and one of the ladies that worked in the food concession part took me in. The closest protective services kind of thing was hours away in Denver, so…” She shrugged. “They kind of adopted me. Not formally or anything. But someone made sure I had food and a place to sleep. Dottie was in her sixties—she was the first one to take care of me—and eventually got to where she couldn’t really keep up. Then I stayed with—” She tilted her head. “Gosh, I don’t even know the whole list at this point, but honestly I really lived at the resort. I was kind of like the mascot or something.”

  “And no one ever came and got you out of there?”

  She shook her head. “Honestly, Brett, it’s not hard to fall through the cracks when no one knows you exist.”