“That won’t be happening anytime soon.” She looked away, but not before he saw a flare of hurt in her eyes. That look gnawed at his confidence, but, dammit, she needed to hear that her life wasn’t over.
“Why not?” he asked. “You’re young. Don’t you think you’ll ever get remarried?”
“I—I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “I suppose. I can’t afford to think that far ahead. I guess I’m finding that relying on just myself is easier right now.”
“You mean safer?” he countered.
She seemed to think about it, then frowned. He was surprised she didn’t try to correct him but instead, turned and led him toward the kitchen.
“Can I get you a drink?” she asked.
“No thanks.” He pulled out one of her kitchen counter stools and made himself at home.
Kendall nodded, and a few moments of silence passed between them. She picked up a dish towel, nervously fussed over it, and then hung it up again. “So, um, would you like a snack?”
“No, thanks. There’ll be plenty of food there. I want to save my appetite.”
“Good idea.” More awkward silence fell.
She looked around again then at her watch and then sighed. “Well, why don’t we just leave now?”
“We have some time,” he said, trying to hide a smile. Did it make him a bad guy that he was enjoying her discomfort more than he should? But damn if she didn’t look cute when her anxiety level was up.
He patted the stool next to his. “Have a seat.”
Kendall stared at the stool as if it had yellow eyes and fangs, but she eventually sat down. She was close enough that he could smell her skin, fresh and sweet, like one of those delicate pastries she’d been baking the week before.
“I thought we could have a little talk,” he said.
Her eyes went wide as if he had suggested something much more intimate. “Talk?” she repeated, biting her lip. “Um, sure. I guess we can talk.”
“Good, but before we do, we should get something out of the way,” he told her with all seriousness. Try as he might to be on his best behavior and keep to the friend zone she so desperately wanted to place him in, he had to let her know he wanted her. After all, he had nothing more to lose. He obviously couldn’t make their friendship any more awkward than it already was.
Once she nodded, he didn’t waste any time. Sliding off his stool, he backed her up against the counter in a most unfriend-like, yet most satisfying, manner. Her breath caught and she raised a hand against his chest but didn’t utter any other form of protest. Thank God, because he couldn’t turn back now when she smelled exactly like what he’d envisioned heaven smelling like: woman and cookies. And turn back he didn’t. Instead, he pressed his mouth against hers and quite effectively began kissing the breath right out of both of them.
Kendall wrapped her hands around the nape of his neck, holding him closer. Little catchy moans urged him on as he broke away from her lips and ran openmouthed kisses along her jaw. Every nerve ending in his body sizzled and he wanted more of her. He reached up to grip her head with his hands, anything to keep her from moving away. Was she shaking? Then he realized it was him.
He quickly released her. His original intention was to prove a point, not prove he could go up in flames. “There,” he whispered. He blew out an unsteady breath and willed his vision to come back. “That’s much better.”
“B-better?” she panted.
“Yeah. It’s better we get the awkwardness out of the way now.” He dropped his arms and forced himself to pull away a few steps. Then stepped back once more for good measure and so that her scent wouldn’t interfere with his brain functioning. “This way we can relax and have a good time tonight. I mean, I don’t want our friendship affected just because of that kiss we shared the other night. Now that we kissed again, it’s not that big of a deal.”
Not that big of a deal?
He inwardly rolled his eyes at himself. Truth be told, their second kiss was even better than the first and a very big deal to him. And judging by the glazed look still lingering in Kendall’s eyes, it was kind of a big deal to her, too.
“So, do you feel less awkward and more relaxed now?” he asked with a straight face.
She blinked several times. Her eyebrows drew together and her bottom lip jutted out just so, and damn if she didn’t look even cuter when she was thoroughly confused. “I, uh—”
“Good. We’re agreed then.”
He deserved a damn medal for turning away when she looked so ready to be kissed again, but there was a method to his self-induced torture. Plus, she had to be going through her own little version of Torture 101 too, so they could call it even. He would go slow. After all, he understood her fears, and he wasn’t about to risk losing her before he even had her.
“Hey, what’s this?” he asked, noticing the papers she had spread out on the kitchen table.
Kendall stood and immediately began straightening the mess. “Oh, just the business plan Walt was helping me with and some flyers and business cards I made.”
He picked up the card and smiled. “Kendall’s Kreations?” he said, quirking an eyebrow. “That’s pretty cute. The alliteration is catchy and I like the double Ks in the name.”
“Yeah, I do too,” she said, lightly fingering the lettering on the card. “Your sister wanted me to go with Kendall’s Kitchen Korner, but I figured the KKK initials might be bad for business.”
Brad laughed. “Smart move. See? This is why you’ll do great as a business owner.”
“I’m glad you think so. I keep doubting myself and wondering if I made a mistake.”
“Look, Kendall, I can’t tell you everything will work out with the bakery. But I can tell you that I’m proud of you for taking the chance. If a person plays it safe all the time, that person could miss out something truly wonderful.”
“Or lose something wonderful.”
His stomach knotted. But he walked over to her and touched her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “That’s part of life. There’s no way to block that out. You win some, you lose some. That includes people. You take a chance and let people into your life. Some stay and some go, but they all bring experiences and emotions that make up who you are, who you’ll grow to be.”
She nodded but dropped her gaze, not looking entirely convinced. “Well, I’ve seen how you’ve changed at least.”
“Me?”
She took a deep breath, studying him a moment. “Yes. After your parents passed away, I saw you take responsibility for Georgie and how you looked out for her—how you still look out for her. I think that experience has made you become a protector, not just with her, but with me and your other friends, too. I also think that quality is what makes you so good at your job.”
He had never thought about that until now, but maybe Kendall did have a point. The death of his parents may have inadvertently led him to his career in law enforcement. It was an area where he felt he could do some good—right wrongs. He couldn’t protect his parents from harm when they had their accident, but it sure seemed to fill a void deep down inside of him, knowing he could protect others. That Kendall somehow saw that and understood the inner need to do just that drew him to her even more. She got him on so many levels—and he got her.
She broke his thoughts when she suddenly placed a hand over his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t,” he said, giving her hand a light squeeze and bringing it up to his lips. “I like talking to you about memories. In fact, I like talking to you about everything.”
Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, then she carefully extracted her hand from his. She was still doing her best to keep him at arm’s length. Brad bit down on a sigh, realizing he’d have to string out his patience with her a little while longer.
“Maybe we should go now,” he suggested.
“Okay. I’ll grab my jacket.”
“Don’t forget to put some of those cards in your purse too.”
She
stopped and gave him a questioning glance. “But it’s a police event. Don’t you think it’ll be tacky if I go around handing out my business cards?”
“It can’t hurt to have them in case it comes up in conversation. You’re going to have to learn rule number one in business: always be prepared.”
Her brown eyes sparkled. “Oh?” she said, picking up a handful of cards and dropping them into her purse. “And since when did you become such a marketing know-it-all?”
He gave her a droll look. “Since opening up my own little handyman business.”
“Do you carry your cards around with you too?”
“Well, not exactly.”
“What do you mean?”
“I would carry my cards around with me, but uh…” He cleared his throat, trying to hide his lips from twitching. “Georgie burned them all.”
She blinked, then threw her head back and laughed. “Now that was a smart business move.”
“Apparently,” he said wryly, “since I was the only one who liked those damn things.”
“Well, don’t take it personally. Your business cards may need improvement, but we like you just the way you are.” She held out a hand to him and wiggled her fingers, signaling for him to take it, which he readily did.
“Come on, Mr. Handyman,” she said, still chuckling. “I’ll buy you a drink at the event to cheer you up.”
“You’re on.” He squeezed her hand and reveled for just a second in how well they fit together—not just their hands on a physical level, but how he and Kendall fit together emotionally and mentally too. He couldn’t imagine himself with any other woman. She was the real deal for him and he wasn’t going to let her go. Now that he’d moved past his reservations over Jake, he could admit to himself that he was—and probably would always be—head over heels in love with her.
He was in love, but he couldn’t tell her that. Soon though, when he was surer of her feelings. At least she admitted she liked him. He’d take that. It wasn’t great—in fact, it was pretty freaking awful the more he thought about it.
But it was a start.
Chapter Eight
Maritime City was more of a family shore town, so maybe only three or four good local restaurants were of a decent enough size to hold a fund-raiser as large as the Policemen’s Benevolent Association. The Blue Oyster Restaurant was Kendall’s favorite, mainly because it was known for fresh seafood and the best crab cakes in town. Judging from the number of vehicles lined up like perfect soldiers in the parking lot, she suspected this would be one of its biggest pre-summer-season nights.
She and Brad barely made it three steps into the restaurant before some man was calling out Brad’s name and slapping him on the back.
“Yo, chief, about time your ugly mug showed up,” said the man with a devilish twinkle in his eyes. Brad laughed, and when the man stuck out his hand good-naturedly, Brad readily shook it.
“Hey, Freddy,” Brad said, still smiling. “And who you calling ugly? This place is looking better already since I showed up.”
Freddy glanced at Kendall with a smile of unabashed appreciation and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll say this place is looking up.” He elbowed Brad and added, “You going to introduce us?”
Brad kept his expression neutral, but he turned to Kendall and threw an arm around her shoulders in a move she would not describe as light and friendly, but unquestionably territorial.
“Kendall Grisbaum, meet Lieutenant Freddy Peterson. This guy is actually crazy enough to go to Quantico with me this fall.”
Freddy was a muscular guy with a shaved head and mustache, which would be intimidating if his mouth wasn’t curled as if always on the edge of a good joke. He took her hand with a firm shake and a pleasant smile. “Good to meet ya.” Then he paused and his smile dimmed. “Grisbaum? There was a Grisbaum a few years ago on the fire department but—”
“Yes, that was my husband,” she interrupted before he finished the story she knew by heart. She fought to keep her face from showing her emotions, even though a little cloud of sadness settled over her head at the sudden reminder of Jake.
Freddy’s face paled. “Oh, man. I didn’t know. I’m really sorry for your loss.”
“That’s okay, thank you,” she murmured.
Brad’s mouth looked grim, and his fingers tightened protectively on her shoulder. “Yeah, it was tough on a lot of us. Look, we’re going to get a drink,” he said, changing the subject. “We’ll see you around later, Freddy.”
Brad didn’t hesitate, steering her in the direction of the bar. Once there, he pulled out a barstool and slid it behind her. “Here, drink this,” he said after a moment, handing her a filled glass.
She looked at the brown-colored liquid in her hand and her brows drew together. “Whiskey?” she asked, making a face.
He sent her a sheepish grin. “Amaretto sour.”
She had to smile too, from relief and from gratitude. She wasn’t a hard alcohol type of woman. She preferred her drinks on the sweeter side—and Brad had remembered that.
“Thanks,” she said, taking a small sip. She closed her eyes and let the liquid sit on her tongue a few seconds longer than usual before swallowing, enjoying the feel of its traveling heat. Her shoulders immediately loosened and relaxed.
She’d handled that pretty well, she thought. No crying. No lingering depression. The sadness of losing Jake didn’t feel quite as acute as it once had. She still missed him, but she took comfort in the fact that she was getting better at dealing with the loss. Maybe she really was moving on with her life. Or maybe it was because of Brad and how he’d been occupying a majority of her thoughts lately. Feeling more in control, she opened her eyes and found him watching her with a concerned gaze.
“I’m sorry about that, Kendall.” His tone was soothing and soft. She always found his deep, husky voice comforting, and in that moment she wanted more than ever to close her eyes again and just listen to him speak.
“I wanted to take you out so you could forget and have a good time,” he told her.
She shook her head. “It’s okay. I can’t hide from those comments or how any mention of Jake will make me feel. I’m fine. Really,” she added when deep lines of worry appeared between his eyes.
“Are you sure? Because we can leave right now—”
“No, I want to stay.” She patted his forearm and had to smile that she was now the one who was consoling Brad instead of the other way around. “Besides, I promised I’d buy you a drink,” she added.
He smoothed her hair and gently kissed her forehead, as if she were a fragile treasured item. Her heart squeezed with something much stronger than mere gratefulness. “Okay,” he said, “but you only have to say the word and we’re out of here. Got it?”
She nodded and crossed her heart. “Got it, boss.”
“I’m serious, Kendall.”
She gazed at Brad and her heart felt so full she thought it would burst. Brad was her best friend—the very best of men she had ever known. He could be so sweet. But when he kissed her like he had in her kitchen, he hadn’t been gentle at all. He’d kissed her as if determined to pull from the sensation and make it last forever. He’d kissed her like a man who wanted a woman.
Brad looked so handsome in his blue button-down shirt; it made his concerned eyes even bluer. She wanted more than ever to reach up and stroke his face—just touch him—and was more than a little disconcerted by the way that overwhelming feeling grew with each passing second.
Brad took her hand in his and his thumb began to rub an easy circle over the back of it as he spoke. “I don’t ever want to put you in a position where you feel bad.”
“What kind of position do you want to put me in, then?”
Brad stilled, keeping her hand in his.
If she could have, she would have reached into the air and snatched those words back into her mouth. Was she actually flirting with Brad?
He seemed just as shocked as she was. Her body suddenly felt heavy and warm. She w
ished she could blame the amaretto, but as her gaze flew to her barely touched drink on the bar, she realized it had nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with the way Brad was making her feel.
Brad gathered himself together more quickly than she could and allowed his gaze to slowly travel over her body. “I could think of a few positions,” he said with a crooked grin.
She lightly punched him in the arm. “I had no idea you were such a flirt.”
“You started it.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
“I did…too.”
He smiled. “Now that we’re finally agreed, let’s get back to talking about those positions I’d like to put you in.” He placed his hands on the bar on either side of her and slowly leaned in, his face close to hers. “Starting with this one right here,” he added in a throaty voice.
Her gaze fell on his lips and her heart fluttered wildly. “Brad—”
“Hey, Kendall, is that you?” came a female voice next to them.
Kendall’s breath caught. She averted her gaze and saw Melanie Cade, one of her old co-workers she’d befriended when she had been waitressing, beaming at her and Brad. Oh, thank goodness for the interruption. That was close. Brad was close. Too close.
In fact, he was still too close.
She gave him a slightly embarrassed shove, but he took his time backing away from her.
“Hi, Melanie,” she said, taking in a deep breath that did absolutely nothing to slow her racing pulse. “I’m here for the police department fund-raiser. Have you met my, uh, friend Brad?”
Melanie held out her hand and gave Brad a hearty handshake. Her friend may have been blond and petite, but she had worked up a lot of strength carrying heavy tray orders over the years.
“Nice to meet you,” Melanie told him. She dropped her hand and immediately turned anxious eyes back to Kendall. “Girl, I haven’t seen you since the restaurant let you go. Let’s grab a table and catch up for a few minutes. I want to hear all about the bakery you’re opening. You have to come over and meet some of the other girls I’m with, too.”
She bit her lip. “That sounds great.” Maybe a little separation from Brad was a good thing. She could think more clearly. She wasn’t completely sure, but given another second Brad had looked as if he’d had every intention of kissing her right there in the bar.
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