by Sally Felt
Laughter had nothing on Kim’s kisses. The combination positively made her drunk.
“Where have you been?” she asked.
“I am late,” he said.
“By days and days,” she said and kissed him some more.
After a time, she noticed a cramp in her neck and stepped up onto Kim’s feet, the way he’d invited her to, an age ago on the night of the shattered glass.
“Good idea,” he said. And it was. She figured she was just enough higher to be able to kiss him for hours without getting tired.
In the course of testing her theory, she managed to drop his jacket to the coffee table and untuck his shirt. He laughed and began walking with her still standing on his feet. It forced her to hold on to him rather than undress him, but the best way to keep her balance seemed to be bending and spreading her knees, which had its own rewards.
Except he was walking toward the kitchen.
“Bedroom is that way,” she said, indicating the direction with her eyes.
“Don’t I know it,” he said, “but there’s a few things we should talk about and I can’t trust myself to do it in there.”
Oh.
He had a point. Her own focus had frayed as their kisses had become less flirt and more promise, from wondering where he’d been, to wondering what she might next uncover and touch, kiss, taste…
Kitchen.
“Good idea,” she said. Then she realized he’d said things they should talk about, not things they should talk about first.
“It is good, isn’t it?”
Kim lifted her and set her on her just-wiped-down kitchen island. “That depends.” He fidgeted, smoothing her skirt over the island’s surface while Isabelle’s stomach knotted with anticipation.
“Don’t you make me beg. I’m a proud woman, you know.”
“I’ve heard that,” he said, smiling. “Isabelle, I’ve sold my condo.”
“Oh.” It wasn’t good. He was going after all. Theirs would become a long-distance relationship, and even sooner than she’d feared. She swallowed.
“I had a solid offer made in good faith and I took it. I’ll be looking for another place.”
He rubbed the fabric of her skirt between two fingers, and though his eyes were tracking it, his expression said he didn’t realize he was doing it. As carefully as Isabelle was studying his face, she would have seen any such indication.
“I’ve also accepted an offer to buy my plumbing business.”
He’d sold home and business. They needed to talk. Isabelle’s efforts to give Kim time to talk warred with her rising need to panic.
“I’m not sure how you’ll feel about my new line of work.”
She caught his chin with her hand and forced him to look at her. “Stop scaring me and talk.”
His grin seemed apologetic. He pulled a business card from his back pocket and offered it to her “Let me know whether this helps or hurts in that department.”
She released her grip and took the card. Rock On, Indoor Climbing Gym. Offering Recreation, Professional Training and Group Excursions. Kim Martin, Owner.
Kim watched her read it. “Rock On, formerly known as Wall Werx.”
She couldn’t process it. “You bought Wall Werx?”
“Someone had to—Damon was running it into the ground.”
“You bought Wall Werx?”
“You’re surprised.”
“Here, in Dallas?”
He shrugged. “Technically, yes. I’ve got some improvements in mind I hope will expand its draw.”
“What about Austin? You’d give that up, just because I said so?” She didn’t want to rob him of things he thought were important. That wasn’t what partners did.
He smiled. “If you’d told me to, I’d know we didn’t have a shot. But that’s not what happened. My mighty lioness was willing to bend. How could I resist that?
“Besides…” He pointed to the business card. “Group excursions.”
“You bought Wall Werx?”
He laughed. “Now you’re scaring me. I hoped you would be happy.”
“You’re staying,” she said. The logjam in her heart jostled as her frozen blood dared begin to thaw. He thought they had a shot.
“I need you to clear up one thing for me first.”
“Kim.” If he made her suffer another minute…
“Are we or are we not—and this had better be a yes—dating?”
He’d tortured for that? She wanted to slap him. She wanted to kiss him. She shoved him to show her frustration while wrapping her legs around him so he couldn’t go anywhere. Just exactly the way she wanted it.
Kim laughed and put his arms around her. “What do you say, ‘Belle?”
“Why do you call me that?”
“You hate it.”
“I love it. I love you.”
“Is that a yes?”
Those eyes. That smile. This dangerous, wonderful man.
“That’s a yes, Kim Martin,” she said as her heart leapt to a fearless new level and prepared to enjoy the view. “That’s a whole bucket of yes.”
About Sally Felt
Like most storytellers, Sally Felt is an adventurer at heart. Six feet tall and insatiably curious, Sally has spent the night in some odd places--in a hammock, on a riverboat, in a convent and in a whorehouse. She's waded barefoot in the Mississippi and swum in the Amazon.
Her formative teen years included a student exchance to Middle Earth (aka, New Zealand) and a summer working as a chore girl on a dude ranch.
These days, Sally makes wishes on the new moon, refuses to dye her silver hair, enjoys sipping tequila and hopes to inherit her mother's laugh. She's also a decent Wii bowler.
Sally welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Sally Felt
Going Native
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Flushed
ISBN 9781419947056
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Flushed Copyright © 2014 Sally Felt
Edited by Elizabeth London
Cover design by Willo
Cover photography by coka/shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication February 2014
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