by Sally Felt
The ache became a pain. She could not let him leave like this. “This is where I first used you. This is where I thought, ‘Oh, good, a way to make Steven sorry.’ I wasn’t thinking of you as a real person. I figured a man as good looking as you would be as skilled a game-player as Steven and that you wouldn’t mind.
“I should have realized my mistake when you kissed me.”
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he agreed.
“That’s not what I meant.”
The way Kim was leaning against the edge of the kitchen island suggested he’d be happier sitting down. Maybe lying down. “Would you be more comfortable in the other room?”
“What did you mean?” he asked.
She swallowed. She’d just braved a rooftop. This conversation was nothing in comparison. “When you kissed me, I knew you were different than Steven. I knew you were no manipulator, no game-player. I even knew you knew you shouldn’t have kissed me.” She blushed, but he’d more than earned her honesty. “I just wouldn’t believe it. It was easier to think all men were pigs. It was easier to use you, at least at first.”
He nodded, winced and picked up the ice pack again.
“And you agreed to come with me and Stacey and…that man…and I knew it was awfully nice of you but Steven could be nice too, and Steven always wanted something, so it was easy for me to pretend that sooner or later you’d push for whatever it was you wanted and I could get mad and I’d have been right about you.
“But I wasn’t right about you,” she said. “I’ve never been right about you. I know that now. I’ve known it since that first time you kissed me, but I’m, well…”
“A proud woman?” Kim suggested.
“I was going to say ‘stubborn’,” she said, smiling. He smiled in return. It was still a great smile, swollen lip and all. She started to tear up again, a hitch in her chest.
“And now it’s too late,” she said.
“Too late for what?”
“To love you,” she said, tears spilling over her cheeks. “I love you.”
“No,” he said. “No, Isabelle, it’s not.” He wiped her tears with rough fingertips. “Please don’t cry. You should never cry. If I had my way, you’d be proud—sorry, stubborn—Isabelle every day of your life. Of course, in my way, you’d be stubborn in the opinion I was—how did you put it?—drool-worthy.”
She sniffled. “Thoughtful.”
“A great kisser?”
She smiled, though she knew tears would rip her apart again later. “The best. You’re perfect.”
“Would you mind repeating that when Kerry gets back?”
Kerry cleared his throat. “No need,” he said. He was standing in the doorway between kitchen and dining room, clearly uncomfortable to have intruded on their privacy. “Tow truck is on its way.”
Isabelle backed away from Kim, wiping her eyes. “Oh, good. Coffee is ready. Do you take cream?”
“Ah, no. I think maybe I’ll just take a walk.” He slipped away before she could insist. She heard the front door open and Kerry called, “If you don’t kiss her now, bro, no place in Texas will be far enough to save you.” The door shut.
Kim shook his head. “Bastard. Always one-upping me.”
Isabelle laughed.
Kim set down the ice pack and reached for her. She put her arms around him, knowing it’d be small comfort later when she was alone, and not caring. His left eye was no less intense for seeming smaller within his swollen face. She tentatively touched his lip.
“I’m so sorry, Kim.”
The corners of his mouth turned up. “What are you talking about? Bob? You dropped him. You’re my hero.” He pantomimed knocking the side of her head with his fist. His hands were taped, like a boxer’s. She thought about the many scars on his body and hoped she hadn’t given him new ones today with her foolish pride.
She shivered.
He kissed her. His lip slid over hers and she felt the split and worried, but she wanted it too much to pull away. Maybe it wasn’t as agile as his other kisses. It certainly wasn’t pressurized steam, inviting her to throw him on the bed and have her way with him. It was soft and sweet and lingering.
It felt like goodbye. It would be, if she didn’t let go of her stubbornness, her obsessive need for control.
She laid her head on his star-wrinkled chest. “So we will see each other on weekends? Take turns?”
His silence had her wondering if he could feel her heart hammering. He kissed the top of her head. “You’d do that?” he asked.
“I’d try.” Hardest words she’d ever spoken. They felt as dangerous as climbing off the edge of the roof.
He squeezed her tight. His breath cycled unevenly—strong, sharp intake, long slow exhalation. And while the warmth of his body was balm to her overtaxed nerves, it was some time before his embrace softened and his posture lost its rigidity.
A big moment for him too, she guessed. That was okay. He was good at managing risk. He’d help both of them through it. She was in good hands. Something deep in her gut unknotted. Maybe this is what “getting over it” felt like. Unbent. Free.
And yet, still terrified.
“Maybe we could make a deal that I’m the only one buying you cologne?”
“You got it. We can deal on anything you like. Name it.”
“I’d like if you didn’t go at all,” she whispered.
His taped hand played with her curls. “Then I won’t.”
Fresh tears spilled to dampen his shirt. It sounded so easy. Like something Glib Steven might say. “I don’t mean the tow truck,” she said, not looking at him.
“I know.”
“But…”
He shushed her and drew her against him again. Hope struggled for life in her chest. She had a hundred questions, but Kim was dead on his feet. He’d said he wouldn’t leave. She could give him some time before he spelled out what that meant for her. For them.
For once, she could let him explain.
She held him until her arms cramped and her tears dried and Kim’s brother returned.
“Tow truck is here,” Kerry said.
“Kim told me you were good at your work,” she said as Kim eased away from her, looking as much like a sleepwalker as she felt. Kerry was back in his vest and suit coat, only the stain on his shirt where a tie should be to suggest he’d played any kind of role in the rooftop showdown, let alone such an important one. “I am in awe, and so grateful to you. Do all master jewelers make house calls?”
“Technically, it was a garage call,” Kim said.
“Only for family,” his brother said at the same time. After a beat of silence, Kerry smiled. “Garage call. Good one, Kim.”
Kim’s arm lay across her shoulders. He nodded toward Kerry. “She’s right, bro. You were great.”
Surprise passed over Kerry’s face. Isabelle guessed he didn’t often hear anything nice from the man who’d so struggled to define himself on his own terms. She gave Kim a little sideways hug.
“Of course, you’ve got the climbing skill of a piece of lumber,” Kim added, even his speech slower than usual. She was glad the paramedics had ruled out concussion.
Kerry smiled. “Maybe someday, you’ll help me do something about that.”
Kim shook his head, laughing. “I don’t envy Jules the task, but I’ll bet the kids are natural monkeys. It’ll be fun, climbing with you all, as a family. I look forward to it.” The brothers might not look much like each other, but Isabelle saw these strong, resilient men shared a sense of humor. It gave her hope Kim could come to enjoy his big brother. If fighting side by side on her behalf helped that happen, so much the better.
They made their way outside. Kerry told her he’d be in touch when he knew more about the ring and climbed into the tow truck’s cab. Kim’s Jeep was already fully rigged for towing, the truck’s engine idling.
“It’s not his car,” Kim said. She knew he meant Kerry, that he couldn’t leave his brother to clean up the details.
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br /> “He did an amazing thing today,” Isabelle agreed, but her fingers twined through Kim’s belt loops. She didn’t want to let him go. He’d been there for her when she was at her worst, nearly psychotic with fright and hurt—a horrifying state she would never have allowed him or any man to see if she’d had a thing to say about it. But he wasn’t any man, was he? He was much, much more. “I don’t want to say goodbye,” she whispered.
Kim kissed her eyebrow and nuzzled her temple. “Then say you’ll call me later. You know, just to sleep with me.”
At the reminder of how she’d treated him, tears spilled over her cheeks again. Kim tried to catch them with his taped up hands. “I’m joking,” he said. “‘Belle, I’m sorry.”
She nodded, but couldn’t stop the tears. Damn it, she was just too tired to behave rationally. “Big day,” she sniffed. “First time for buildering.”
“Really? I’d never had guessed.” His smile made her knees wobbly. He was proud of her? She’d all but wet herself and he was proud of her? His smile turned shy, and he said, “First time for telling a woman I loved her.”
Isabelle’s lungs emptied and refused to refill. Her mouth worked but nothing came out. The man who’d dated hordes of women had never before?
He kissed her, a kiss of truth and promise that made her forget to cry, forget to worry, forget to even start breathing again.
“I love you, ‘Belle,” he murmured. “Don’t give up on me.”
Speechless, she watched him slide into the cab beside his brother and pull the door shut.
Only after she’d waved goodbye did she remember she had a debt to someone besides Kim and his didn’t-want-to-call-him brother. Even so, she rested before calling Stacey, who had already been contacted by the police. She went over to Stacey’s house, helped her friend get drunk enough to cry about it, then spent the night on Stacey’s sofa where she found herself finally done with tears. Steven’s scheme had run its course, justice was in motion and Kim Martin had said he loved her. What more could she ask? Well, plenty, actually, but she let it go. If she trusted Kim, that’s all she needed.
It was the least he deserved.
Chapter Seventeen
The rooftop abrasions on her skin had nearly healed and still Isabelle waited. Kim called—every day in fact—but he was evasive about Austin and his promise. “I’ve got a couple more things to work out,” he’d say. “I want to surprise you.” She kept busy with her business, bringing Stacey on every client visit and installation, at first because she was concerned about her friend’s emotional health, and then because it turned out Stacey was really good at it. Then Kim’s brother called to tell her to expect a large check in the mail—he’d been right about the ring, and the museum was offering a finder’s fee. Isabelle contacted her corporate lawyer about creating the Space Craft franchise Stacey had teased her about. Take a little risk. It seemed it was finally time.
When she tried to cancel the second Monday-night dinner party in a row, she got flak from friends who seemed to think she needed the same kind of cheering up that Stacey did. She gave in, inviting the usual group including the tentatively reconciled Charlie and Gina. And of course, Stacey, who told Isabelle she was coming as Isabelle’s date. Stacey had actually pushed for a “no men” policy at the party. She seemed to have picked up Isabelle’s recently discarded “men suck” campaign and taken it for her own.
Too bad. Isabelle wasn’t going to entertain without inviting Kim, but his cryptic reply was, “Almost ready. I’ll be there for the party if I can.” She tried not to be disappointed.
She laid out a build-your-own-nachos buffet and chopped the veggies for Stacey’s spinach dip and was happily surprised when Lemley turned up with a bouquet of daffodils…and the neighbor who grew them. They made a cute couple.
Kim was the only missing guest when the doorbell rang. Isabelle flew to open the door, her heart pounding with expectation, only to find the blond bike-riding cop who’d helped out taking Steven and Bob into custody. She stepped out on the porch to speak to him rather than disrupt the party.
“The man calling himself Bob Lewis is part of a local drug ring,” he told her. “We’ve been able to trace his activities back and discover the identities of several of his accomplices. I thought you’d want to know.” In his ball cap and uniform shorts, he should have looked like a hip UPS guy, but the radio on his shoulder, the bulletproof vest, the handcuffs and weapons bristling at his belt, all said this was serious business.
“Drugs? What about the ruby? How did it get in my house?”
“Steven Yaeger agreed to hold some stolen merchandise for this group as part of a loan renegotiation.”
Steven owed Bob money. Isabelle had understood that much, but she couldn’t close the loop on what the officer was trying to tell her. “I’m sorry, they deal in drugs and stolen jewelry?”
“No ma’am.” He smiled, apparently realizing he’d lost her, and relaxed his stance, his body language becoming more approachable without losing its authority. “A group like this may acquire and hold a cache of stolen merchandise that’s compact in size but high in value, the ruby ring for example, and other pieces like it. It makes for convenient collateral when setting up a deal. When Mr. Yaeger couldn’t produce the ring on demand, his associate took matters into his own hands.”
“But Bob, or whatever his name really is, didn’t count on me being such an unforgiving woman.”
He grinned. “No ma’am, I imagine he didn’t. You’ve helped put a dangerous group out of business.” He had an endearing dimple in his chin. Just Stacey’s type. At least for the first date.
“I had the help of good friends and family. We’re having a little get-together tonight.” She gestured toward the house. “You and the other officers are invited to stop by when you’re off duty.”
Charlie leaned out the front door. He’d been sticking close tonight, only leaving her vicinity to lavish attention on Gina, who had seemed remarkably okay with Charlie’s straying. She’d even thanked Isabelle for counseling Charlie to be honest about it. She could live with his roving eye and harmless BSing, she’d said. She just needed to believe she was getting the best Charlie had to give.
It took all kinds, she supposed.
“You okay out here, Isabelle?” her brother asked.
“Fine, Charlie. This is one of the officers who hauled the trash off my lawn last week.”
“Excellent!” Charlie saluted him with the longneck he was holding. Stacey stood behind him, peering out toward the porch. Isabelle knew that look. She’d noticed the dimple.
The officer had apparently done some noticing right back. “That’s a kind offer, ma’am. I’m actually off duty, just stopping by on my way home.”
“Call me Isabelle.”
The party got even more man-heavy after that, as off-duty cops dropped in to say hello. Stacey seemed to enjoy the attention of Officer Biscuit, as Isabelle privately thought of the young man named Brett. Isabelle suspected there had even been a bit of smooching in the laundry room, but she wasn’t going to push. One would hope a police officer wouldn’t turn out to be a snake like Bob, but Isabelle could respect her friend’s need to proceed with caution. Not every man could be Kim.
Kim, who hadn’t made it to the party.
Isabelle smoothed the cling wrap over the sides of the bowl and offered Stacey the leftover spinach dip.
“Keep it,” her friend said. “If I take it, I’ll just pig out at home.”
The way she said it suggested Isabelle would rather pig out herself. Had Stacey hung around after everyone else had gone, helping with dishes, putting away food, gossiping about Lemley and about Charlie, just so Isabelle wouldn’t be alone?
Couple of weeks ago, she’d been fine being alone. Now…
“I thought the nacho bar worked well,” she said.
Stacey nodded. “Put out anything with cheese as a main feature and you know the men will love it.”
Isabelle smiled. Stacey had indeed
let go of “men suck”. How had she missed learning from her friend’s resilience all these years?
“Take the dip. Really.”
Stacey failed to protest a second time. Maybe she was already planning to invite Brett for another round of appetizers.
Within minutes, her friend was on her way home and Isabelle’s house was quiet. She turned off the lights, took off her shoes and sat on the sofa to admire her living room by candlelight, the family pictures once more lined up on the bookcase and mantel, the hats in place on their display stands. It was as if nothing had ever been broken or pushed out of shape. Restful. Structured. Predictable. Safe.
Maybe even dull.
There was a knock at the door. Probably Stacey, forgetting her purse or something. She opened the door. The man on the porch was tall and lean as a whip. Cleft chin, every-which-way hair and the most incredible eyes, dark rings around pale irises. He held an armload of tissue-wrapped flowers—beautiful yellow-rimmed orange tulips.
“Am I late?” he asked.
Isabelle’s center of gravity dropped, her internal organs melting together with happiness.
“Kim.”
“You didn’t think I’d forget,” he asked, grinning. The swelling was gone—nothing interfered with the power of his smile. It made her heart rumba and she hadn’t even known it could dance.
She laughed. She had to. Nothing besides delighted laughter could possibly make her feel better than opening the door and finding Kim Martin on her porch looking at her the way he did. She opened the door wider and he came inside. He wore navy slacks and a fitted dress shirt of exactly the same shade together with the mahogany leather coat from their date. She put her arms around his neck. He threw the flowers in the direction of the sofa and wrapped his arms around her.
Kissing. Soft tease of breath and warm caress of lips. An unmistakable call to adventure.
Absolute perfection.
“‘Belle, ‘Belle, ‘Belle,” he murmured, his lips moving over her neck, against her ear, through her hair, across her cheek. “God, I’ve missed you.”
He lifted her off her feet and set her back down again and she laughed and held on and kissed him and kissed him and kissed him again.