Love in the Afternoon

by Alison Packard

  * * *

  Sitting across the table from Matt at Chi Dynasty, Sean wasn’t surprised when the waiter came over with two more beers and said they were compliments of two ladies at the bar. Matt picked up one of the beers and, looking past Sean, gave a nod to the women.

  “They’re seriously hot,” Matt said and then took a long pull from the bottle. “And I do like blondes,” he added with a lascivious grin. “Which one do you want?”

  “Neither,” Sean replied, not bothering to turn around. This was a normal occurrence whenever he and Matt hung out. Women practically came out of the woodwork when Matt was out in public. Most people thought actors got all the women, but the truth was it was professional athletes who were the most besieged by women and groupies. For some of the women it was about scoring with a famous athlete, and for others it was the lure of marrying one and living the good life. Unfortunately, from what Matt told him, a lot of the players were just that—players. They had so many women throwing themselves at them that even the ones who vowed they would never cheat on their wives or girlfriends ended up doing just that.

  Matt set the beer down and shrugged. “More for me then,” he said, reaching for an egg roll. “Maybe I’ll take both of them home.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Sean used his chopsticks to pick up a chunk of orange chicken.

  Matt finished chewing. “Why the hell not?”

  “Because fucking two women you don’t know isn’t going to change what happened,” he said in a low voice. Matt’s expression froze but Sean didn’t care. He was tired of tiptoeing around the reason why Matt had done a complete 180 in the past year. Tension hung thick in the air as Matt pinned him with a steely gaze. Sean popped the chicken in his mouth and chewed, wishing that Matt would talk to him. The guy was a time bomb waiting to explode. It was only a matter of when and where.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Matt said with a scowl and then took another swig of his beer.

  Sean put his chopsticks down. “Don’t I? You’ve been ejected from more games in the past month and a half than you have in your entire career.”

  “So?” Matt shrugged. “Guys get tossed all the time. It’s not a big deal.”

  “It is a big deal. You’re getting a reputation, Matt. And not a good one.” He paused as the waiter refilled their water glasses. “If you’re not careful the Dodgers will trade you.”

  Matt let out a bark of laughter. “No, they won’t.”

  “Don’t be too sure of that.”

  “You worry too much.” Matt lifted one dark brow and grinned at him. “You need to get laid,” he added, looking back at the bar. “It’s the cure for what ails you.”

  Sean pushed his plate back. He’d lost his appetite. Watching his best friend self-destruct and not being able to help him was wearing on him. “Sex won’t solve your problems.”

  Matt winked at the women at the bar and then met his gaze. “I don’t have any problems,” he said and then reached in his back pocket for his wallet. “I’m just enjoying life. You should try it.” He opened his wallet. “Dinner’s on me.” He pulled out a hundred dollar bill and laid it on the table. “I’m going to the bar and thank the lovely ladies for the beers. Care to join me?”

  Sean shook his head. “I’m heading home. I have a script to study.” Actually, he didn’t. Since he was off tomorrow he had plenty of time to look at his script. But he didn’t want to hang out at the bar with two women he didn’t know, and didn’t want to know. The only woman he wanted to be with was Kayla. The fact that she was home alone while some nut job was fixated on her wasn’t sitting well with him.

  Matt shrugged and pushed his chair back. “I’m leaving with the team for Philly tomorrow. Meanwhile, I’ll be making the most of tonight,” he said, then strode to the bar—much to the delight of the two blondes.

  * * *

  A funny thing happened on his way home. Sean took a slight detour—to Atwater Village. He pulled the Jeep up to the curb in front of Kayla’s bungalow, cut the engine and the lights and unbuckled his seat belt. Today he’d discovered Kayla was one stubborn woman. As personality traits went, he’d seen worse. But he was just as stubborn and there was no way he was going to sit idly by and leave Kayla alone in that house.

  Hell, if he went home all he’d do was worry about her all night anyway. He’d be lucky to get any sleep at all. So why not get no sleep outside her house? At least he would make sure she was safe.

  * * *

  Curled up on the end of her sofa, Kayla sipped her chamomile tea, hoping it would relax her. The meeting with the security consultant wasn’t until ten-thirty the next morning so she could sleep in. Sleeping late was a luxury she didn’t often indulge in, but tomorrow was going to be an exception. Her cell phone rang, reminding her that she’d forgotten to call Lisa. She leaned forward to pick it up off of the white wicker trunk she’d picked up at a flea market and used for a coffee table.

  “Checking up on me?” she asked, not surprised to see Lisa’s name on the caller ID. Setting the tea cup on the trunk, she leaned back and got comfortable.

  “Are you crazy?” Lisa launched right in, her tone terse. “Why aren’t you here at my house?”

  “I’ll be fine. The alarm is on, the doors and windows are locked, and if it’ll make you feel any better I’ll sleep with a knife under my pillow.”

  “Oh, aren’t you funny?” Lisa was clearly not amused. “I guess our little talk went in one ear and out the other.”

  “I called the alarm company, didn’t I?”

  “A fat lot of good that will do you if that maniac shows up at your house tonight.”

  “Look, I told Sean this and now I’m telling you. I’m not letting some freak drive me out of my home.”

  “Some freak who might know where you live.”

  “I doubt it.” Kayla reached for the remote for her stereo system housed in the antique armoire along with the television and hit the power button. Her favorite ’80s station came on, Cyndi Lauper singing “Time After Time.” Lowering the volume, she tossed the remote on the sofa next to her. “You need to stop worrying about me. Tomorrow I’ll have an updated alarm system with all the bells and whistles. The place will be as secure as Fort Knox, or the White House.”

  “Didn’t two idiots crash a White House party a while back?” Lisa paused. “Now that’s great security.”

  “Sarcasm doesn’t become you.” Kayla grinned. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?” she asked, knowing Lisa’s penchant for going to bed early so she could get up early to swim.

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “Can’t pull one over on you.”

  “Will you call me tomorrow as soon as the alarm rep leaves?” Lisa asked, finally realizing she was fighting a battle she couldn’t win.

  “Yes. Now go to bed.”

  “Fine.” Lisa paused. “You know, it might not be such a bad idea to sleep with a knife under your pillow. Just for tonight.”

  Kayla let out a laugh. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll get the biggest knife I have and keep it with me all night.”

  “It will. Humor me, all right?”

  “Deal.”

  * * *

  Just before eleven, Kayla stifled a yawn, closed her latest copy of Entertainment Weekly and laid it on the trunk. She turned off the stereo and went into the kitchen where she rinsed her tea cup and set it on the stainless steel drain board next to the sink. She was almost out of the kitchen when she remembered her promise to Lisa and returned to the center island where her knives were neatly inserted into a wooden butcher block holder sitting on top of the counter. She selected a knife that looked like it could do the most damage and left the kitchen, turning off the light as she went.

  Because she wasn’t as blasé about her safety as Sean and Lisa might think, she moved to the front door to double check the alarm. It was activated and the deadbolt was in place. To be on the safe side, she went to the picture window tha
t looked out onto the street, pulled back the floral curtain to check the lock and noticed a familiar vehicle parked at the curb smack dab in front of her house. A mixture of disbelief and anger washed over her.

  “Oh, no he didn’t,” she muttered and let the curtain fall.

  * * *

  The frantic pounding on his side window jolted Sean awake. Heart racing like a freight train, he sat up, whipped his head around and saw Kayla’s angry face glaring at him through the passenger side window.

  Shit. Busted.

  He opened his door, slid out of the Jeep, and then rounded the front of the vehicle, stopping short when he noticed the huge carving knife Kayla clutched in her right hand.

  “Not happy to see me, I take it.” He lifted his gaze from the knife and met her dark eyes. She didn’t respond, just stared at him, her posture rigid and her jaw tight. “I hope you don’t plan to use that on me.” He put his hands up in mock surrender. The moonlight cast tricky shadows across her face; even in this light she was beautiful.

  “How long have you been out here?” Kayla asked, obviously not appreciative of his good intentions, or his attempt at humor.

  “About an hour,” he said, lowering his hands. “Give or take.”

  “I don’t believe this.” She spun around and stalked across the grass toward her front door.

  As he appreciated the toned and tanned legs on display in the white shorts she wore, he wondered if he should follow her or get back in the Jeep.

  “Kayla. Wait,” he called to her retreating back and jogged across her manicured lawn. When he reached the porch she tried to slam the door in his face. Quickly, he raised his hand and braced it against the door, preventing her from closing it. “I was worried about you,” he said, meeting her furious gaze through the crack between the door and the frame. “I’m not going to apologize for camping out in front of your house.”

  “What are you? My protector?”

  “Tonight, I am,” he replied, a little peeved at her attitude. “You know what? Get mad. I really don’t care. If I left now and something happened to you I couldn’t live with myself, and furthermore Lisa would hunt me down and kill me with her bare hands.” An unwilling smile tugged at Kayla’s lips but was gone just as quickly.

  “Go home, Sean.”

  “No.”

  Kayla sighed heavily. “I’m not a child. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “I stayed in your guest room the past two nights. What’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal is I don’t need you or Lisa trying to run my life.” Her chin lifted. A defiant gesture that told him she wasn’t going to back down. For some stupid reason she was digging her heels in.

  “You’re not going to leave, are you?” Her expression plainly said as far was she was concerned he could go to hell.

  “Not on your life, sweetheart.”

  “Then get your ass in here. You can’t sleep in that Jeep all night.”

  * * *

  Kayla slipped the carving knife back into the butcher block holder and turned to find Sean standing under the arched entry to the kitchen. When she’d confronted him outside by his Jeep, he’d tried to humor her, but now his green eyes leveled her with an inscrutable look, and his expression was set in scowl mode.

  “You can sleep in the guest room.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “But I still think this is unnecessary.”

  “I disagree,” Sean said and then paused, studying her thoughtfully. “What is this really about? You didn’t object to me staying here when I thought you had a concussion, or last night after you got the letter and found your car vandalized.”

  “That was different. I wasn’t thinking clearly either night. I don’t need anyone taking care of me.”

  “I didn’t know you could be so stubborn.”

  “There are a lot of things about me you don’t know.”

  “Tell me about it.” Sean glanced at his watch. “It’s late. What time is your appointment tomorrow?”

  “Ten-thirty. But you’ll be gone before then.” Her tone was harsher than Kayla had intended, but she couldn’t seem to help it. Her once orderly life was spinning out of control and she couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it.

  “Right.” His eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t dream of sticking around when you’ve made it clear you can handle everything by yourself.”

  Kayla lifted her chin and met Sean’s annoyed gaze. “As you said, it’s late. You know where the guest room is.”

  Sean’s mouth pressed into a grim line. Kayla knew she ought to apologize for being such a pill but the words wouldn’t come. It was like she was twelve years old and in a stand-off with Kelly. Neither of them would ever budge. They were as different as night and day, except they shared a stubborn streak a mile wide. But this wasn’t her sister, and she should be grateful to Sean for being concerned about her welfare. Still, the words wouldn’t come.

  “Good night, Kayla.” Sean broke the tense silence, then turned and left the kitchen. She heard his footsteps on the hardwood floor of the hallway and then silence after he closed the guest room door.

  * * *

  An hour later, unable to sleep, Kayla padded silently down the hallway, bypassed the living room and entered the kitchen. Light flooded the room as she hit the switch and moved toward the center island. She wasn’t prone to insomnia, but whenever it struck, she was always able to get back to sleep if she ate something sweet. It was probably all in her head, but she never questioned it. Why question something that always worked?

  The problem was she was pretty sure she didn’t have anything sweet in the house. She hadn’t been to the store in days and she’d eaten the last Oreo this morning. Just to be sure, she checked the Victorian House cookie jar her mother had given her. Empty. Then she checked the freezer. No ice cream—not even a Popsicle.

  Methodically, she pulled open each drawer, hoping she’d stashed a candy bar in one of them in case of an emergency. By the time she’d reached the last drawer she’d given up hope. She rooted around in it and under a stack of take-out menus noticed a familiar photo frame. Pulling it out, she turned it over and studied the picture of Greg she used to display in the living room. Her fingers tightened on the frame as she took in his practiced smile and dark eyes that held no emotion whatsoever.

  Unbidden, all the cruel things Greg had said to her during their relationship echoed in her head. He’d criticized her unmercifully, telling her over and over again that, at best, she was a passable actress and that she’d never be taken seriously—especially after the horror films she’d done. His digs were well timed. Usually right after she didn’t get a part she’d auditioned for or it had been a while since her agent had called. It wasn’t until she’d started to doubt her own abilities that she realized what he was doing: systematically destroying her confidence and her belief in herself.

  Thank God she’d figured it out before he’d completely destroyed her.

  “You bastard,” she whispered, staring at his image as if he were the devil incarnate. Why she’d kept the photo was beyond her. Moving to the sink, she pulled open the cupboard door underneath it and was about to toss the frame in the trash when it slipped from her grasp and fell to the tiled floor with a loud crash, the glass shattering into pieces.

  “Damn it.” She crouched down, began to pick up the larger fragments and heard the sound of heavy footsteps thundering in the hallway.

  “Kayla! Are you all right?” Sean called out, his voice deeply male and edged with concern as he came barreling into the kitchen.

  “I’m fine. I just broke a picture frame.” Kayla lifted her head to find Sean staring down at her. The sight of him, his jeans riding low on his hips, his shirt unbuttoned, showing off a set of near perfect six-pack abs caused her whole body to flush with heat and desire. “You can go back to bed,” she said, hoping he’d do just that so she could cool off. She tore her gaze from his well-defined stomach and dropped the two larger pieces of glass she’d picked up into the
garbage can.

  “Where’s the broom and dust pan?”

  “I have a small set in the pantry. On the floor just to the right of the door.”

  “Don’t touch that glass,” he warned as he moved to the pantry and opened the door. “You might cut yourself.”

  Kayla picked up the frame, glanced at Greg’s smarmy face and tossed it into the garbage. Then Sean was crouched beside her with the mini broom and dust pan. He was so close, the earthy scent of his cologne invaded her head and made her knees weak. She let her gaze wander over his tanned forearms as he swept the broken bits of glass into the pan. Her body tingled with awareness. She wanted to touch him so badly it was almost a physical ache.

  “Who was that picture of?” he asked after he’d dumped the last of the glass into the trash can.

  “No one important.” She met his eyes, amazed at how in the soft light of the kitchen they glittered like emeralds. “My ex.”

  “Do you miss him?” He held her gaze with mesmerizing force.

  After a long, silent moment, she shook her head. “No,” she whispered and caught a flicker of some indefinable emotion in his eyes.

  “We should go to bed,” Sean said after several charged seconds.

  His words conjured up a lot of things, but none of them had anything to do with sleeping. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. The air seemed to electrify between them, like an invisible force field, making it impossible for her to move. Every nerve in her body screamed for her to lean forward and press her lips to his. She was just about to give into that instinct when he broke eye contact to close the cupboard door. Kayla let out a breath and brushed her hair back with a shaky hand.

  “You’re right.” She rose and braced her hands on the counter, trying to collect herself. “Thanks for cleaning that up.”