Almost Like Love

by Abigail Strom

  “We can take a cab if you like, but it will only take twenty minutes to walk across the park. Of course, it’ll be a little longer if we stop to get pretzels on the way.”

  “Let’s walk!” he said immediately, and Kate couldn’t have agreed more.

  A little while later, when they were sitting on a bench eating their pretzels, Kate told Jacob about the fitting.

  “I promised my friend I’d ask you about it, but if you don’t want to go, that’s okay.” She popped the last bit of pretzel into her mouth. “I was told to mention, though, that Ezra’s Entertainment is right next door to the boutique. Have you ever been there?”

  Jacob shook his head, his cheeks bulging with the enormous bite he’d just taken.

  “It’s one of the best comic stores in the city. They have posters and tee shirts and games, too. We can hang out there until it’s my turn to try something on.”

  Jacob had to finish chewing before he could answer. “Sure, that sounds great. I’d go even if it wasn’t next to a comic store. I can always bring a book or my tablet or whatever.”

  Kate grinned at him. “You’re a pretty decent kid, you know that? In spite of the fact that you enjoyed the Star Wars prequels and have never watched the classic episodes of Doctor Who. These are faults of youth and can therefore be forgiven.”

  Jacob rolled his eyes, but he’d taken another bite of pretzel and was too busy chewing to answer.

  Her phone rang, and she fished it out of her purse. When she saw it was Ian, a little jolt went through her system.

  She wished that would stop happening. When he’d called earlier in the week to ask if she could watch Jacob today, her heart had jumped as if she were a teenager hearing from the cutest boy in class. After the call had ended, she’d found herself singing “I Feel Pretty” from West Side Story.

  For a grown woman, that was downright embarrassing. Especially considering she’d made such a point of establishing that nothing was going to happen between them—not to mention their lack of attraction for each other.

  Yeah, right.

  The truth was, she didn’t think she’d ever been as attracted to a man as she was to Ian Hart. Until now, she hadn’t known she could feel that way about a man she didn’t even like.

  Unless it was because she didn’t like him.

  Well, why not? If you imagined yourself with a guy you didn’t like, emotion wouldn’t enter into it. There’d be no girlish dreams of happily-ever-after.

  Just raw, primitive, mind-blowing sex.

  Not that she would ever fantasize about Ian, of course.

  She got up from the bench before she took his call. She felt more in control when she was on her feet, and with Ian Hart she needed every possible advantage.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey, yourself. Any problems picking up Jacob?”

  She tried to ignore her body’s response to the whiskey-rough timbre of his voice. “Not at all. It’s such a gorgeous day we decided to walk home, and we’re currently eating soft pretzels in Central Park.”

  “Must be nice. I just came out of a meeting and I’m on my way to another one. I haven’t been outside all day.”

  “Poor baby. Of course the fact that you’re gainfully employed is probably some consolation.”

  “I offered to gainfully employ you, remember? You were the one who insisted on doing this out of the goodness of your heart.”

  “I wanted to show you that some people actually have one.”

  He chuckled. “I have a heart. It’s just two sizes too small.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “A Dr. Seuss reference? I’m impressed. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed your tendency to underestimate me.”

  When she realized their back-and-forth was making her smile, she decided it was time to change the subject. “I’m actually glad you called. I need to check with you about something.”

  She told him about the fitting that evening and Jacob’s offer to come with her. “We wouldn’t be back late—probably around eight or eight thirty. It’s not a school night, but even so, if you’d rather he stayed home, I completely understand. It wouldn’t break my heart to skip a fitting with Bridezilla.”

  “No, you should go. And I might be able to get you out a little early, if it’s okay with your friend—and if you’re amenable.”

  “You could suggest anything to get me out early, up to and including helping you bury a body, and I’d be amenable.”

  He chuckled again. “A friend of mine has three tickets to the Yankees game tonight and can’t use them. They’re fantastic seats, field level on the third-base line. I know you’re not a sports fan, but I thought you might—”

  “They’re playing the Red Sox tonight,” she interrupted.

  “You know that? I’m impressed. I wouldn’t have thought you’d know the first thing about the Yankees’ schedule.”

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed your tendency to underestimate me.”

  “Funny girl. So does this mean you’re actually a Yankees fan?”

  “Not even a little bit.”

  “I guess that was too much to hope for. But what about going to the game tonight? Are you interested? Or is sitting through three hours of baseball your idea of torture?”

  “Let me check with my partner in crime.” She’d walked a few paces away during their conversation, and now she turned back towards Jacob as she lowered the phone. “How would you feel about going to a Yankees game tonight?”

  His forehead wrinkled. “Well . . . are you going to be there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then sure.”

  She lifted the phone again. “We’re on, Hart.”

  “Great. First pitch is at 7:05, but we’ll have to be a little late, since I can’t leave work until six thirty. Will it be okay with your friend if I pick you and Jacob up at seven? That’ll get us to the stadium by the second inning.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll text you the address of the boutique, and we’ll be waiting out front at seven sharp.”

  After the call ended, she and Jacob started walking again. She didn’t realize she was grinning until Jacob said, “You look happy. I guess you really like baseball, huh? I don’t understand why people love it so much. I think it’s totally boring.”

  “That’s because no one ever made it into a story for you.”

  “A story? What do you mean?”

  “Pull up a chair, Jacob—metaphorically speaking. I’m going to tell you about the curse of the Bambino.”

  “There’s a curse involved? That does sound cool.”

  “It is. Would you mind if we take a detour to my apartment? There’s something I’d like to pick up for tonight.”

  “Will I be able to meet Gallifrey?”

  “Of course. He’s always happy to acquire new admirers.”

  Ian cut his last meeting short and headed out the door at six fifteen.

  He told himself he was excited because of Jacob, not Kate. This would be another chance to get his nephew into sports.

  Although, come to think of it, maybe he could use this opportunity to get Kate into sports, too. That would be an even bigger challenge, considering how closed-minded she could be.

  But he was always up for a challenge.

  He arrived at the address Kate had sent him at six forty-five. He’d told her seven, so he didn’t want to rush her, but if she was finished with her fitting she might appreciate the chance to leave early.

  It was Jacob who answered her phone. “Kate lent it to me so I could play a game,” he explained.

  “That was nice of her. I’m calling because I got out of work early and I’m out front now. There’s no hurry, but you guys can leave whenever Kate’s finished.”

  “She’s trying on her dress, so we can’t go yet.” There was a short
pause. “You want to know something weird?”

  “Sure.”

  “The girls in my class can be really mean to each other, you know? But I always figured they’d grow out of that eventually—like, by the time they go to college or whatever. But Kate’s friends are grown-ups and they’re still mean. Well, not all of them. Her friend Simone is awesome. But the bride made Kate feel bad a bunch of times.”

  Ian’s hand tightened on the phone. “How?”

  “She’s little, like Simone, and she makes jokes about how tall Kate is. She said guys like to feel big when they stand next to a woman, and she said maybe that’s why Kate has trouble hanging onto a man. Then she sort of smiled and said, ‘Just kidding.’ Kate didn’t say anything, but I could tell her feelings were hurt.”

  Ian was surprised at the rush of protective anger that went through him. “Listen, Jacob—I’m coming in. Will you meet me by the front door?”

  “Sure.”

  He was wearing his Yankees sweatshirt, but he had a tee shirt on underneath it. Wondering how many times in his association with Kate Meredith he was going to take off his clothes, he pulled off the sweatshirt, messed up his hair, and told the driver he’d be out in a few minutes.

  Jacob was waiting for him just inside the door, and his eyes widened when he saw his uncle. “You never wear short sleeves in public. And your hair looks different.”

  “I know. Would you mind waiting in the car while I get Kate?”

  “Sure, but she’s not ready to go yet. She’s still got the dress on.”

  “I’ll wait until she’s ready.”

  “Okay.”

  Ian watched through the glass doors until Jacob was in the car. Then he went to find Kate.

  She was in one of the back rooms. The doors were all marked private, but when he heard a gaggle of female voices behind one of them, he opened it.

  The room he found himself in was small and elegant and smelled like perfume. The women were gathered around a kind of pedestal in the middle of the floor, some standing and some sitting on little gilt chairs, talking with each other and looking at the woman currently on display.

  It was Kate.

  She was wearing what he figured was her bridesmaid’s dress for the wedding from hell. If so, the denizens of the lower regions were a lot better dressed then he’d previously imagined.

  Ian didn’t know that much about women’s clothes, but he knew what he liked. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that he liked Kate.

  The way she looked. He liked the way Kate looked.

  For the last two years he’d seen her only in her work clothes, which were pretty uninspired. Seeing her in her vamp outfit last week had been a revelation, and he’d enjoyed seeing her in jeans the next day and yoga pants the day after that.

  But this . . .

  He’d been to more red-carpet events than he could count, and in this dress Kate could stand shoulder to shoulder with any actress he’d ever seen.

  It was chartreuse, which was not a color he’d ever expected to drool over. But it was the perfect complement to Kate’s fair skin and red hair.

  The material was satin, or maybe silk—something shiny, anyway—and it had a high neck and short sleeves and was slit up the side. More importantly, it outlined Kate’s bodacious body with loving fidelity.

  His jaw sagged when he first saw her, but by the time she noticed him he’d closed his mouth and was looking less like a demented schoolboy.

  Kate’s eyes widened when she spotted him. “I thought we were meeting out front,” she said pointedly, her cheeks turning pink.

  That got everyone’s attention, and he found himself being stared at by every woman in the room, including one who was little and blonde and sat in her chair like a queen holding court.

  Bridezilla, he presumed.

  “I know,” he said. “But I had to check you out in your fancy dress. And I’m glad I did,” he added, letting his eyes move down her body and back up to her face.

  A little blatant ogling was in character, right?

  “You look like every man’s fantasy in that thing,” he went on. Then he turned towards the little blonde. “Are you the bride?”

  “Yes,” she said, rising to her feet and coming towards him. “I’m Jessica,” she added, holding out her hand and flashing a smile.

  “I’m Spike,” he said, catching Simone’s sudden grin out of the corner of his eye. “I’ve got to say, I admire your courage.”

  “My courage?”

  “Yeah. I thought the idea was to make your bridesmaids look hideous, so you look even better in comparison. You must have a lot of self-confidence to let Kate walk down the aisle looking like that.”

  “Thank you,” Jessica said after a moment, her voice a little stiff. She dropped his hand and turned her back on him, and Ian took the opportunity to return Simone’s wink.

  “Well, ladies, I’ll leave you to it.” He looked at Kate again. “See you out front, babe.”

  He left the room without waiting for a response, smiling to himself as he shut the door behind him.

  She came out of the boutique about ten minutes later, but he didn’t recognize her at first. Her red hair was tucked under a baseball cap, and she was wearing—

  He peered out the car window. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Jacob grinned. “Yeah, Kate’s a Red Sox fan. Didn’t you know?”

  Of course she was. It made perfect cosmic sense.

  She opened the car door and slid in next to Jacob. “Hi,” she said brightly, smiling at him under the brim of her ancient cap.

  The state of that cap told him that she hadn’t dressed like this just to annoy him. That cap, along with her faded jersey, spoke of many, many years of rooting for Boston.

  He sighed and spoke to the driver. “Okay, Dave—take us to Yankee Stadium.”

  Dave grinned at him in the rearview mirror and pulled away from the curb.

  Ian shook his head. “I thought you were a New Yorker,” he said to Kate.

  “I’m a transplant. My mother’s a New Yorker, but my dad’s from Boston. That’s where I grew up.”

  “Is your mother a Yankees fan, at least?”

  She shook her head. “Mets.”

  “Figures.”

  He’d never pegged Kate as any kind of sports fan—but he’d obviously been wrong.

  “I’m excited for the game,” Jacob said, and Ian stared at him.

  “You are?”

  “Uh-huh. Kate’s been telling me all about the Red Sox. Fenway Park and selling Babe Ruth and Ted Williams and Carlton Fisk’s home run and the ball between Bill Buckner’s legs and the 2004 ALCS when they were down three games to none against the Yankees and the Yankees still managed to lose the series. She said it was the worst choke in sports history.”

  He glared at Kate, who was looking smug. “If you turn my nephew into a Red Sox fan, I will hold you morally and legally responsible.”

  “That decision is entirely up to him. I’m just giving him the information he needs to make an informed choice.”

  “Life’s a lot easier in this town when you root for the Yankees.”

  “True—and Jacob is certainly entitled to take that into consideration as he ponders his options.”

  It took them only twenty minutes to get to the stadium. On their way to their seats Jacob stopped to use the bathroom, and as soon as the door closed behind him Kate poked Ian in the ribs.

  “So, are you going to tell me why Spike made an appearance at my dress fitting?”

  Was she grateful that he’d been there? Annoyed? He couldn’t tell from her expression.

  He shrugged. “Jacob answered your phone when I called. He said the bride was acting like one of the mean girls in his class.”

  That made her laugh. “That’s funny . . . and true.”<
br />
  “He was afraid she’d hurt your feelings.”

  Her expression softened. “Jacob’s a sweet kid.”

  He raised a brow. “I’m the one who went in there, you know.”

  “And?”

  “Doesn’t that make me sweet, too?”

  It was blatant fishing, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. A part of him wanted to hear her say “my hero” or something equally ridiculous.

  She grinned at him. “I guess it was pretty sweet . . . even though I can hold my own with the mean girls of the world. I’ve been this height since I was twelve years old, so I’ve had a lot of practice. It’s not easy being the tallest girl in class.”

  “I think you’re the perfect height.”

  Once again, he couldn’t help himself. She looked so damn cute in that baseball cap . . . and so damn sexy in that jersey. It was a struggle not to let his eyes drop to where her curves stretched the faded lettering across her chest.

  It was her turn to raise a brow. “The perfect height for what?”

  Was she flirting with him? Considering that it had been less than a week since she’d “formally established” that they wouldn’t be crossing any lines, he considered this a minor triumph.

  But he didn’t show it. If he really wanted to get Kate into his bed, he couldn’t move too fast. He had to—

  Wait a second. He’d decided last week that seducing Kate Meredith would be more trouble than it was worth. When had he changed his mind about that?

  Looking into her blue eyes, he decided it didn’t matter. The fact was, he did want her in his bed. And if that would require more finesse than he usually needed with a woman, well, then, so be it.

  So he just said, “The perfect height in general.” Then he changed the subject. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Why in the world are you friends with that woman?”

  Kate laughed. “Everyone who meets Jessica asks that question.”

  “So what’s the answer?”

  “Well . . . I’ve known her since college. I know she seems bitchy—and sometimes she really is. But a lot of that is a defense mechanism. When she was younger, she . . .” Kate paused. “You don’t need to hear about that,” she went on after a moment. “But I’ll tell you something she did once. The summer after our junior year, my grandmother passed away. Jessica was in Monte Carlo with her family, but when she found out, she flew back and spent three weeks with me. She didn’t say anything about it—she just moved in and took care of everything. My grandmother and I were really close, and Jessica knew how hard it was for me to lose her. So even though she can be hard to take sometimes, underneath it all she has a good heart.”