by Susan Fox
He’d said no on all counts and stuck to his guns about moving to Montreal to build a photography career.
Once there, he had started to check out work opportunities and begun to meet people. But he’d moved too slowly for Kat, at least when it came to making friends. She’d figured he was shy, taken him under her wing, kick-started his social life. Enjoying her company—besides, who could resist the driving force of a determined Kat Fallon?—he’d gone along.
But even as he dated other women, his feelings for Kat grew. He’d known it was futile. Though her relationship with Jase broke up, and she ogled Nav’s muscles when he fixed her plumbing or helped her paint her apartment, she went for men like Actor Guy. Larger than life—at least on the surface. Often, they proved to be men who were more flash than substance, whose love affair was with their own ego, not their current girlfriend.
No way was Nav that kind of man. In the past, growing up in England with wealthy, successful, status-oriented parents, he’d had his fill of people like that.
Though Kat fell for other men, she’d become Nav’s good buddy. The couple times he’d put the moves on her when she’d been between guys, she’d turned him down flat. She said he was a really good friend and she valued their friendship too much to risk losing it. Even though he sometimes saw the spark of attraction in her eyes, she refused to even acknowledge it, much less give in to it.
Now, standing with every luscious, tempting inch of her wrapped in his arms, he wondered if there was any hope that one day she’d blink those big brown eyes and realize the man she’d been looking for all her life was right next door.
She gave a gusty sigh and then pushed herself away. She stared up at him, but no, there was no moment of blinding revelation. Just a sniffle, a self-deprecating smile. “Okay,” she said. “Five minutes is enough self-pity. Thanks for indulging me, Nav.”
She turned away and opened two washing machines. Into one she tossed jeans and T-shirts. Into the other went tank tops, silky camisoles, lacy bras, brief panties, and thongs.
A gentleman would never imagine his friend and neighbor in a matching bright pink bra and panties, or a black lace thong. Nor would he fantasize about having hot laundry-room sex with her.
Glad that the loose running shorts and rugby shirt disguised his growing erection, he refocused on Kat’s news. “So you’re off to Vancouver.” That was where she’d grown up, and where her youngest sister lived with their parents. “When are you leaving? Are you taking the train?” She hated to fly.
She flicked both washers on, then turned to him. “I plan to leave Monday. And yes, definitely the train. It’s a great trip and I always meet fascinating people. It’ll take my mind off my shitty love life.”
“No problem getting time off?”
“My boss gave me major flack for leaving in June and not giving notice. Gee, you’d think I was indispensable.” She flashed a grin, and this one did sparkle her eyes.
“I’m sure you are.” He said it teasingly, but knew she was usually the center of the crowd, be it in her social life or at work.
“We sorted it out. My assistant can handle things. But it’s going to be a crazy weekend. There’s tons to organize at work, as well as laundry, dry cleaning, packing.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“Could you look after the plants while I’m gone?”
“No problem.” He’d done it before, along with playing home handyman for her and her friends. She in turn sewed on buttons, made the best Italian food he’d ever tasted—she’d once dated a five-star chef—and shared popcorn and old movies.
“Thanks. You’re a doll, Nav.”
A doll. Also known as a wimp. As one of his friends said, he was stuck in the buddy trap.
Brushing away the depressing thought, he remembered his good news. “Hey, I have exciting news, too.”
“Cool. Tell all.”
“You know the Galerie Beau Soleil?”
“Yeah. Ritzy. Le Cachet buys art there.”
“Well, maybe they can buy some of my photographs.” He fought to suppress a smug smile, then let go and beamed.
“Nav!” She hugged him exuberantly, giving him another tantalizing sample of her curves. “You got an exhibit there?”
“Yeah, in three weeks.” He scraped out a living doing freelance photography and selling stock photos, but his goal was to build a career as a fine art photographer. He wanted his photos to display his vision and perspective, and eventually to hang on the walls of upscale businesses, private collectors, and galleries.
This would be his first major exhibit of fine art photography. “They called yesterday. Someone had to cancel at the last minute, and they asked if I could fill in.”
“That’s fabulous.” She gave him another squeeze, then stepped back. “This could be your big breakthrough.”
“I know.”
For a long moment, while washing machines chugged and whirred, they smiled at each other. Then she asked, “Do you have enough pieces for an exhibit?”
“I’ll need a few new shots. Everything has to fit the theme.”
“You already have a theme?”
“We’re calling it ‘Perspectives on Perspective.’” His photographs featured interesting lighting and unusual angles, and often incorporated reflections. They were accurate renditions of reality but from perspectives others rarely noticed. He liked shaking people up, making them think differently about things they saw every day.
“Ooh, how arty and highbrow. It’s great. I am so happy for you. This is going to launch your career, I just know it. You’re going to sell to hotels, office buildings, designer shops, private collectors.” Her eyes glittered with enthusiasm. “And I’m going to be able to say ‘I knew him when.’”
Nav chuckled. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
Kat hopped lithely up on the closest washer, catlike, living up to her nickname. Sitting cross-legged, she was roughly on eye level with him. “You’re a fantastic photographer and you deserve this. You’ve made it happen, so believe in it. Don’t dream small, Nav.”
If only that would work when it came to winning Kat.
“Believe in how great you are.” She frowned, as if an interesting thought had occurred to her, then stared at him with an expression of discovery. “You know, you really are a great guy.”
It didn’t sound as if she was still talking about his photography, but about him. Nav’s heart stopped beating. Was this it? The moment he’d longed for? He gazed into her brown eyes, which were bright, almost excited. “I am?” Normally he had a fairly deep voice, but now it squeaked like an adolescent’s.
Her eyes narrowed, with a calculating gleam. “You know how unlucky I’ve been with my love life. Well, my family blames it on me. They say I have the worst taste in men, that I’m some kind of jinx when it comes to relationships.”
“Er …” Damn, she’d changed the subject. And this was one he’d best not comment on. Yes, of course she had crappy judgment when it came to dating. The actor, the international financier, the Olympic gold-medal skier, the NASCAR champ? They swept her off her feet but were completely wrong for her. It was no surprise to him when each glittery relationship ended, but Kat always seemed shocked. She hated to hear anyone criticize her taste in men.
“Merilee said I could bring a date to the wedding, then got in this dig about whether I was seeing anyone, or between losers. I’d really hate to show up alone.”
He’d learned not to trust that gleam in her eyes, but couldn’t figure out where she was heading. “You only just broke up with NASCAR Guy.” Usually it took her two or three months before she fell for a new man. In the in-between time she hung out more with him, as she’d been doing recently.
Her lips curved. “I love how you say ‘NASCAR Guy’ in that posh Brit accent. Yeah, we split two weeks ago. But I think I may have found a great guy to take to the wedding.”
Damn. His heart sank. “You’ve already met someone new? And you’re going to take
him as your date?”
“If he’ll go.” The gleam was downright wicked now. “What do you think?”
He figured a man would be crazy not to take any opportunity to spend time with her. But … “If you’ve only started dating, taking him to a wedding could seem like pressure. And what if you caught the bouquet?” If Nav was with her and she caught the damned thing, he’d tackle the minister before he could get away, and tie the knot then and there.
Not that Kat would let him. She’d say he’d gone out of his freaking mind.
“Oh, I don’t think this guy would get the wrong idea.” There was a laugh in her voice.
“No?”
She sprang off the washer, stepped toward him, and gripped the front of his rugby jersey with both hands, the brush of her knuckles through the worn blue-and-white-striped cotton making his heart race and his groin tighten. “What do you say, Nav?”
“Uh, to what?”
“To being my date for the wedding.”
Hot blood surged through his veins. She was asking him to travel across the country and escort her to her sister’s wedding?
Had she finally opened her eyes, opened her heart, and really seen him? Seen that he, Naveen Bharani, was the perfect man for her? The one who knew her perhaps better than she knew herself. Who loved her as much for her vulnerabilities and flaws as for her competence and strength, her generosity and sense of fun, those sparkling eyes, and the way her sexy curves filled out her Saturday-morning sweats.
“Me?” He lifted his hands and covered hers. “You want me to go?”
She nodded vigorously. “You’re an up-and-coming photographer. Smart, creative.” Face close to his, she added, eyes twinkling, “Hot, too. Your taste in clothes sucks, but if you’d let me work on you, you’d look good. And you’re nice. Kind, generous, sweet.”
Yes, he was all of those things, except sweet—another wimp word, like doll. But he was confused. She thought he was hot, which was definitely good. But something was missing. She wasn’t gushing about how amazing he was and how crazy she was about him, the way she always did when she fell for a man. Her beautiful eyes were sharp and focused, not dreamy. Not filled with passion or new love. So … what was she saying?
He tightened his hands on hers. “Kat, I—”
“Will you do it? My family might even approve of you.”
Suspicion tightened his throat. He forced words out. “So I’d be your token good guy, to prove you don’t always date assholes.”
“Ouch. But yes, that’s the idea. I know it’s a lot to ask, but please? Will you do it?”
He lifted his hands from hers and dropped them to his sides, bitter disappointment tightening them into fists.
Oblivious, she clenched his jersey tighter, eyes pleading with him. “It’s only one weekend, and I’ll pay your airfare and—”
“Oh, no, you won’t.” He twisted away abruptly, and her hands lost their grip on his shirt. Damn, there was only so much battering a guy’s ego could take. “If I go, I’ll pay my own way.” The words grated out. He turned away and busied himself heaving laundry from his washer to a dryer, trying to calm down and think. What should he do?
Practicalities first. If he agreed, would it affect the exhibit? No, all she was asking for was a day or two. He could escort her, make nice with her family, play the role she’d assigned him. He’d get brownie points with Kat.
“Nav, I couldn’t let you pay for the ticket. Not when you’d be doing me such a huge favor. So, will you? You’re at least thinking about it?”
Of course he’d already accumulated a thousand brownie points, and where had that got him? Talking about roles, she’d cast him as the good bud two years ago and didn’t show any signs of ever promoting him to leading man.
He was caught in freaking limbo.
The thing was, he was tired of being single. He wanted to share his life—to get married and start a family. Though he and his parents loved each other, his relationship with them had always been uneasy. As a kid, he’d wondered if he was adopted, he and his parents seemed such a mismatch.
He knew “family” should mean something different: a sense of warmth, belonging, acceptance, support. That’s what he wanted to create with his wife and children.
His mum was on his case about an arranged marriage, sending him a photo and bio at least once a month, hoping to hook him. But Nav wanted a love match. He’d had an active dating life for more than ten years, but no matter how great the women were, none had ever made him feel the way he did for Kat. Damn her.
He bent to drag more clothes from the washer and, as he straightened, glanced at her. Had she been checking out his ass?
Cheeks coloring, she shifted her gaze to his face. “Please, Nav? Pretty please?” Her brows pulled together. “You can’t imagine how much I hate the teasing.” Her voice dropped. “The poor Kat can’t find a man pity.”
He understood how tough this wedding would be for her. Kat had tried so hard to find love, wanted it so badly, and always failed. Now she had to help her little sister plan her wedding and be happy for her, even though Kat’s heart ached with envy. Having a good friend by her side, pretending to her family that she’d found a nice guy, would make things easier for her.
Yes, he was pissed that she wanted only friendship from him, but that was his problem. He shouldn’t take his frustration and hurt out on her.
He clicked the dryer on and turned to face her. “When do you need to know?”
“No great rush, I guess. It’s two weeks off. Like I said, I’ll probably leave Monday. I’ll take the train to Toronto, then on to Vancouver.”
“It’s a long trip.”
“Yeah.” Her face brightened. “It really is fun. I’ve done it every year or so since I moved here when I was eighteen. It’s like being on holiday with fascinating people. A train’s a special world. Normal rules don’t apply.”
He always traveled by air, but he’d watched old movies with Kat. North by Northwest. Silver Streak. Trains were sexy.
Damn. He could see it now. Kat would meet some guy, fall for him, have hot sex, end up taking him rather than Nav to the wedding.
Unless …
An idea—brilliant? insane?—struck him. What if he was the guy on the train?
What if he showed up out of the blue, took her by surprise? An initial shock, then days together in that special, sexy world where normal rules didn’t apply. Might she see him differently?
If he analyzed his idea, he’d decide it was crazy and never do it. So, forget about being rational. He’d hustle upstairs and go online to arrange getting money transferred out of the trust fund he hadn’t touched since coming to Canada.
It had been a matter of principle: proving to himself that he wasn’t a spoiled rich kid and could make his own way in the world. But now, principles be damned. Train travel wasn’t cheap, and this was a chance to win the woman he loved.
Unrequited love was unhealthy. He’d break the good buddy limbo, stop being so fucking pathetic, and go after her.
But first, he had to set things up with Kat so she’d be totally surprised when he showed up on the train. “Yeah, okay.” He tried to sound casual. “I’ll be your token good guy. I’ll fly out for the wedding.”
“Oooeeee!!” She flung herself into his arms, a full-body tackle that caught him off guard and almost toppled them both. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She pressed quick little kisses all over his cheeks.
When what he longed for were soul-rocking, deep and dirty kisses, mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue. Groin to groin.
Enough. He was fed up with her treating him this way. Fed up with himself for taking it. Things between them were damned well going to change.
He grabbed her head between both hands and held her steady, her mouth inches from his.
Her lips opened and he heard a soft gasp as she caught her breath. “Nav?” Was that a quiver in her voice?
Deliberately, he pressed his lips against hers. Soft, so soft h
er lips were, and warm. Though it took all his willpower, he drew away before she could decide how to respond. “You’re welcome,” he said casually, as if the kiss had been merely a “between friends” one.
All the same, he knew it had reminded her of the attraction between them.
She would be a tiny bit unsettled.
He had, in a subtle way, served notice.
Token good guy? Screw that.
He was going to be the sexy guy on the train.
Chapter 2
The buzzer on Nav’s dryer went off, but he hadn’t returned to the laundry room yet.
He’d said yes to coming to M&M’s wedding, then just when I’d been gushing thanks all over him, he’d taken off, saying he needed to do something upstairs.
Well, first, he’d given me that look. The one that downright sizzled. Then he’d kissed me and I’d almost expected … almost wanted … I touched my lips, still burning from that one brief brush of his.
No, that was crazy.
What Nav and I had was perfect just as it was. Though I’d always had lots of friends, I’d never felt as connected to any of them as to him. Other women said boyfriends come and go, but it’s your friends you can count on. I’d never understood what they meant because I’d never had that close a friend. Now that I did, I wasn’t risking our friendship, not when every romantic relationship in my life had ended in disaster.
Besides, while I was looking for a husband, Nav’s dating behavior was pure player. He hadn’t got serious with anyone in the two years I’d known him. Every month it was someone new: a female smorgasbord. He gave lip service to believing in marriage, but whenever I commented that his revolving-door policy wasn’t the best way of finding a wife, he’d say—wink, wink—he was holding out for the perfect woman. Yeah, right.