Rapid Pulse: A Limited Edition Spicy Romance Collection

by Gina Kincade

  With a heavy sigh, he headed to rummage through the boxes in his bedroom to find some clean clothes. No sense in putting off the inevitable.

  This was do or die time, Anderson. Don’t Fuck it up!

  Chapter Six

  Kate scanned the parking lot with a keen eye. Grant’s black F-150 truck wasn’t there. Disappointed, she set her binoculars on the window seat with a heavy sigh. She hadn’t seen him since the day he’d moved in over a week ago. She left her post in front of the window and sat on her overstuffed couch with its colorful decorative pillows, exasperated with herself. What had she expected? That he’d be interested in getting a cup of coffee after finding her snooping in his apartment? And she’d kissed him! Holy Cow! How had she gotten up the nerve to do something like that? She’d practically thrown herself at him. “Stop by and borrow a cup of sugar,” she mimicked aloud in a saccharine sweat voice and groaned, mortified.

  But there’d been no mistaking the need she’d glimpsed in those oh-so-blue eyes or his heated response when she’d pressed her mouth to his. And that was the crux of it, Kate mused. If his response to her bold behavior hadn’t been so...so ardent, her big fat mouth wouldn’t have opened to spout even more gibberish. Had she imagined his reaction? Seen only what she’d wanted to see? He hadn’t even used her cell phone number to call or text asking her for a date. Other than using her ever-present binoculars to see if he was around, she’d been too afraid to go knock on his door again for fear he’d think she really was some psycho stalker chick.

  Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Why had she expected to be more like one of those dumb girls who call that radio show in Phoenix wanting a “Second Date Update.” When the caller explained the circumstances of her amazing date and strong connection with the guy she’d slept with, everyone knew there was no first date to begin with, only a hookup.

  Only, this wasn’t even a hookup or dating scenario. Just two random chance meetings, a little B&E, and one incredibly hot, soul-searching kiss. Thanks to the MIA Mr. Anderson and her own overactive fantasies, Kate’s vibrator worked overtime. Hell, she was surprised the damn thing wasn’t billowing black smoke by now. Grant Anderson had gotten exactly what he’d wanted—to be left alone.

  Bitterness swelled deep in her chest and she blinked back inexplicable tears. Ever since switching her birth control pills, her hormones seemed to be in overdrive lately. The timer buzzed, reminding her of the spaghetti she’d put on to boil. Barefoot, she padded into her kitchen and opened a bottle of her favorite red to let it breathe on the counter while she turned off the burners on the stove, having lost her appetite. Maybe she’d put in a depressing movie and cry to her little heart’s content. She poured herself a generous portion of cabernet and shrugged. At least that would give her an excuse to give in to the waterworks that threatened to smear her makeup and make her nose red and puffy.

  Kate lifted the rim to her lips and sipped the smooth burgundy, allowing the liquid courage to warm her belly straight down to her toes. She sighed. A hundred dollar bottle of Ahnfeldt’s red would never let her down. Her lips quirked, but her heart squeezed with fresh loneliness.

  “Why am I being so ridiculous right now?” she asked the empty condo, her words echoing off the high ceiling. Wine in hand, she paced her living room and pondered the unanswered question, aware of an acute depression threatening to take hold. Maybe she needed to go out on the town with friends, meet new people?

  Her cell phone chimed with an incoming text. Welcoming the distraction, she flopped down on the couch and picked up her phone from the coffee table, frowning at the display. Just great. A wrong number.

  5:45 PM: Unknown: Busy?

  5:45 PM: Kate: Depends. Who’s asking?

  5:46 PM: Unknown: Oh, right. Sorry. It’s Grant.

  Kate stared hard at the screen for several minutes, heart pounding between her ears. Of course it was, she thought, a smile curving her lips. No text shorthand or emojis, just direct and to the point.

  5:49 PM: Unknown: You still there?

  5:49 PM: Kate: Yes.

  5:50 PM: Unknown: Can I come in?

  In? In where? The doorbell rang and she jumped, nearly spilling her wine. No fucking way. Kate shook her head in denial. There was absolutely no way this could be happening right now.

  The bell chimed once more. Heart pounding, she set her glass on the coffee table and went over to the door, peeking through the peephole. Oh, shit! She gasped and looked again. No fucking way! She thought once more, shocked straight to her core. Yes there Grant was, standing tall and confident a few feet away. She turned and leaned her back against the door, unsure what to do. Let him in? Tell him to go away?

  Don’t be ridiculous. Hadn’t you just been sitting on the couch boo hooing your sad little life because you hadn’t seen him?

  Kate reached for the doorknob and froze, glancing down at herself. Oh, hell no! No way was she opening the door looking like this. “Umm... just a minute,” she called.

  She rushed to the bathroom to check her appearance, hurriedly smoothing a few tangles from her hair with her hairbrush, and adding a bit of her favorite cherry gloss to her lips. She eyed her sweatpants and oversized Diamondback baseball T-shirt critically. Should she change?

  The buzzer sounded again, this time followed by a series of short knocks.

  Eek! No time. What if he left? Oh God, he would leave, too. Panic gripped her. Kate rushed back to the living room, chest heaving. Gripping the doorknob, she gulped in deep steadying breaths.

  “Act natural,” she murmured.

  Spine straight, she opened the door with a bravado she didn’t possess. The object of her obsession stood looking all hot and sexy in a navy suit, red tie, and crisp white shirt holding a cell phone in the palm of his hand and his other hand was behind his back. His chestnut curls tamed and slicked back from a recent shower. His yummy aftershave wafted between them, turning her insides to mush. Her legs trembled. She gripped the doorknob tight to keep herself upright.

  When her traitorous heart skipped several beats and stuttered beneath her breast, she nearly swore out loud. Damn her weak knees and severe reaction to this man. Their eyes met and a shiver coursed through her body. Holy shit! He was just as hot as she remembered. Those dark-blue eyes, angled cheekbones, and full lips were the same as the ones that’d been haunting both her waking and sleeping fantasies lately.

  “Hi,” she finally managed after she’d found her voice. She sounded all out of breath and she could’ve kicked herself in the ass. Kate stood straighter and found the courage to meet his gaze just in time to catch him checking her out but she couldn’t read his expression. God, she’d wished she’d had time to change. The silence stretched out between them. Her palms grew sweaty, loosening her grip on the doorknob.

  “Can I help you with something?” she asked. Need a cup of sugar? Spice? And me all wrapped up nice? She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from rattling off her wayward thoughts. Oh, Lordy, was she weak when it came to this one man. Never in her life had she had an attraction that tugged at her like this.

  “Umm, yes. Hi. Sorry for the intrusion,” he said. He leaned toward her a bit and sniffed the air, revealing the bouquet of white long-stemmed roses he’d held behind his back. “What is that wonderful smell?”

  A tiny well of hope sprang to life as she gazed at the flowers. “Spaghetti.” She’d be damned after a torturous week of silence and sleeplessness nights if she’d make this easy for him. “Did you need something,” she repeated adding, “Mr. Anderson?”

  His attention snapped back to her face. He swiped a hand through his hair mussing the damp strands sexily and swore under his breath. “Shit. We are back to formalities. Guess I deserve that.” He hesitated a fraction of a second, turned as if to go back to his own condo, then faced her once more. “Can I come in? You have every right to be pissed at me and if you say no, I’ll understand.”

  Kate searched his face. There were shadows under his eyes and that inherent sadness she’d first gl
impsed in him once she’d settled him into the exam room was back. Her heart squeezed. She stood back and allowed him entry. Closing the door with a soft click, she leaned against it for support.

  “No, I’m not mad—” she began.

  “I’m so sorry, to intrude—” he said.

  They both stared at each other then laughed, the awkwardness of the moment melting away.

  Grant handed her the flowers. “These are for you,” he said, loosening his tie. “I wanted to apologize for being a complete asshole from the moment we met. I thought I’d take you out to dinner and explain, but it looks like you’re dining in.”

  “They’re lovely, thank you,” she said, taking the roses and inhaling the sweet scent. “Come. I’ll put these in some water. You’re welcome to stay for dinner. It’s not much. Just pasta and salad.”

  The weight of his gaze boring into her back as she filled the vase set her nerves on edge. Oh God, he was going to say no, she knew it. Disappointment lodged in her gut as she arranged the roses in a decorative lavender crystal vase she’d picked up at a swap meet last summer. Gathering the courage to glance his direction, she lifted her eyes.

  “I need to tell you something and when I’m done, then you can decide whether or not you still want me to stay. Deal?” he said, his expression troubled.

  Kate nodded slowly. “Okay,” she agreed and wondered if she’d been wrong to allow him to monopolize her thoughts when she knew absolutely nothing about him.

  He began to pace in the small expanse of her kitchen, removing his necktie in the process and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his dress shirt. A few muffled curses escaped him and to say his nerves were strung tighter than a bow was the understatement of the century. Kate closed the distance and rested and a hand on his arm, halting him.

  “Hey,” she said in a calm soothing voice. “I don’t know you at all, Grant. And maybe I shouldn’t let strange men into my apartment who could be serial killers, but you know what? I don’t know about you, but I could definitely use a nice evening in with my new neighbor. Somehow I get the feeling that it’s me that’s making you uncomfortable.

  “Damn, but you’re intuitive,” he said. He exhaled a long breath. “And you definitely talk too much.” His lips tilted up at the corners.

  “Would it be better if you had a glass of wine?” Kate asked. “Everything goes better with wine, including listening to my incessant chatter.”

  He gave a brief nod, the tension leaving his body a bit. “I’m just going to be upfront about this Kate, and if you want me to leave after I tell you what I have to say, I’ll understand.”

  Ahnfeldt bottle already in hand, she waved him to the living room sofa. “Have a seat, Grant and I’ll poor you a little bit of liquid courage. Not as good as Harry’s Liquid Luck, but I’m sure it will get you through our conversation.”

  At his puzzled expression she explained. “Felix Felicis?” Grant continued to stare blankly at her. “Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince?” She sighed heavily. “Not much of a movie goer, are you?” At his brisk shake of his head, she continued. “If we are going to be hanging out, you’re definitely going to need a moviecation.”

  “A what?” he asked.

  “A moviecation,” she said with a casual shrug. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Pitch Perfect? You definitely need an education in movies. Specifically movies I enjoy, so don’t think you can try and usurp my iTunes playlist.”

  Chapter Seven

  This was a mistake, being alone with her in her apartment, the voice taunted. Grant stared at Kate, struggling with his own haunted thoughts. Today had been a good day. It had been the reason why he’d finally gathered up the courage to approach her.

  It is a good day. Please, he begged the voice. Let me enjoy her company without complications. One evening, that’s all I ask. One normal evening with my new neighbor. Please. Please. Please.

  He sat there stiffly on the overstuffed couch. Tension filled his shoulders, his arms, and his jaw. When she came over and sat beside him offering him the glass of wine, he gripped the goblet tightly between the palms of both hands. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  “Hey,” Kate said gently, placing her hand on his arm.

  Immobilized, Grant sat there, unable to look her direction.

  “Hey,” she repeated. “Look at me.”

  Reluctantly, he met her eyes. The color appeared even darker in the early evening light that lingered through the large bay window that nearly took up an entire wall. He flexed his fingers around the glass in his hands. His composure was slipping and he was sure Kate knew it.

  Get a hold of yourself before you fucking scare her.

  But how could he explain his erratic behavior to her without scaring her? Before he could get a handle on what to say, she broke the awkward silence between them.

  “Grant,” she said softly. “We don’t have to do movie night. We don’t have to do anything that’s going to make you uncomfortable. In fact, I can make you a plate to take back to your place if you prefer.” She removed her hand from his arm.

  “No!” he said, too quickly and just a touch too loudly. He winced. Grant inhaled deeply and turned on the couch to face her, setting his wine glass on the coffee table beside them.

  Better to tell her on a good day. The words will be much clearer.

  “Please don’t kick me out, Kate.” His hands balled into fists on his lap, but he forced himself to continue. “There’s no place I’d rather be right now.”

  “Okay,” she said, dark brown eyes curious.

  “When I was six my parents and I were on a vacation near the Grand Canyon. It was monsoon season and the sky just opened out of nowhere. The roads flooded quickly and my dad lost control of the car. We ended up in the bottom of a ravine. My father died on impact.”

  “Oh my God. That’s horrible. I’m so sorry, Grant.” Kate took his hand and laced her fingers with his like she had a couple of weeks ago in the emergency room.

  “We were trapped, my mother and I, by a large boulder crushing our side of the vehicle. She was bleeding through a wound in her abdomen, speared by a tree branch. I couldn’t get to her because my leg was wedged between the seats. My six-year-old self had no concept of time, but it felt like hours. Before the paramedics arrived, she had died.”

  Grant heard Kate’s sharp intake of breath and plowed on before she could speak, not chancing a glance in her direction for fear he’d lose his nerve. “Being back in the emergency room the other day brought all those awful memories to the forefront. I’d suffered a broken leg, fractured elbow and a collapsed lung and was hospitalized for weeks. If it hadn’t been for my Gramms...” He shook his head. “I took it out on you and for that, I’m sorry.”

  “Oh my God,” she repeated. “No one should have to suffer the loss of their parents, let alone be witness to their deaths. And at such a young age.” With her free hand she placed her palm on Grant’s cheek and turned him to face her. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry that you had to suffer like that. Physical and mental losses. I’m glad you had someone there to watch over you.”

  Kate placed soft kisses to his brow, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his chin all the while murmuring soothing words of comfort. When her lips touched his, the dam of need that had built over the last several weeks broke. He needed her. And God help him, he was going to take what she offered and consequences be damned.

  “Wait,” he rasped wanting to kick himself in the ass for stopping when all he wanted to do was claim her mouth, her body, her very soul. “There’s more.” She had to know all of it.

  “More?” she asked, soft brown eyes wide.

  “Since the accident, I...umm, that is to say,” he fumbled.

  “It’s okay. I understand,” she said. “You broke more than your leg and elbow that day. If you’re disfigured, or impotent—”

  Grant’s head snapped to attention. “What? No!” His face filled with heat, horrified at the idea that she thought him incapable of pleasing her. �
��All my body parts are in working order, thank you very much,” he said removing his hands from her soft curves and putting a little distance between them. “It’s my mind that’s damaged,” he stated flatly.

  “Damaged how exactly?” she asked, slowly inching away from him. “Are we back to the serial killer thing?”

  He expelled a harsh breath. Here goes nothing. “I suffer from agoraphobia. A fear of leaving home lodges in the middle of my brain and I get trapped inside my own house.”

  Kate visibly relaxed. “Ohhhh,” she said. Obvious relief smoothed out her tense features. “But,” she began, brow furrowing. “You live here now. How did you manage that one? Weren’t you stuck somewhere else? Does this mean you’re cured?”

  “Good questions,” Grant said. “I’ve been treating myself for the last year and—”

  Kate’s stomach grumbled and she gave him a sheepish smile. “Guess I’m hungry after all.” She rose to her feet, tugging him along with her. “You finish talking while I scoop us a couple of plates of spaghetti.”

  Grant watched her closely as she moved around her roomy kitchen gathering everything they needed for dinner. While she worked, he explained that he was a psychiatrist and that he worked closely with patients with specific neuroses and the progress they’d been making. He sat across from her at the small round glass table in the breakfast nook and handed her the glass of wine he’d spotted on the coffee table next to his.

  “So you just decided to use the same therapy on yourself? And How did you go to college? Wasn’t it hard for you to leave your house?” she asked, taking the goblet from him and taking a sip.

  Their fingers touched and heat flared low in his gut reminding his cock how much he wanted her and his hard-on flared to life. He shifted in his seat attempting and failing miserably at easing his erection.