by Jill Shalvis
“Shh.” She slipped into a gated yard and vanished.
Shit. He followed to find her climbing a rickety old fire escape. He had a few choices. He could argue with her. He could pull her off the fire escape. Or he could do the crazy thing and join her.
He joined her.
Since his climbing skills were far superior to hers, he caught up with her and helped her up onto the next level. The small apartment building was three floors. Looked like four units on each floor. Kylie stopped when they were closest to the third floor far right unit, which revealed a kitchen.
“My mom’s place,” she whispered and looked at her watch. “She’ll be home from work right about . . .”
A woman walked into the kitchen.
“Now,” Kylie whispered.
“Why didn’t you just wait for her out front?”
“Because the last few times she and I talked, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she’s keeping something from me. At first I thought she just needed more money, but now I’m not sure. I’m worried about her but I can’t just come right out and ask her anything. She’s cagey.”
“You give her money?”
“Shh.”
Fine. She didn’t want to talk about it. He got that. He concentrated on the scene at hand. The woman in the kitchen had Kylie’s long hair, but unlike Kylie, who mostly pulled hers up, her mom’s hair was styled to within an inch of its life. She wore artful makeup that Tina from the coffee shop would admire and that, combined with a very tight dress and knee-high boots, had Joe confused. She didn’t look old enough to be Kylie’s mom. But a more careful look told him the makeup and clothing had fooled him.
She tossed her purse onto the kitchen counter and whirled to face the younger man who’d come in behind her. Smiling, she hopped up on the kitchen table and beckoned the guy with a crook of her finger. Then she had the man standing between her legs and they were apparently trying to eat each other’s faces off.
Kylie grimaced. “That’s a new one.”
“What, her having a man in her kitchen?”
“No,” she said. “That’s common. But the actual man is new. He’s not her boyfriend. Which is clearly what she didn’t want me to know.”
“Why not?”
“Because she goes through men like other women go through shoes. And she knows it irritates me because she throws the good ones away.”
Kylie’s mom pulled back from the kiss and turned to the window.
Both Kylie and Joe shrank out of view as she opened the glass all the way, inadvertently helping Joe’s and Kylie’s cause, because now they could hear the kitchen conversation.
“Whew,” Kylie’s mom said as she fanned her face. “That’s better. You’ve got me all hot and bothered.”
The guy looked smug. “Then why did you stop me?”
“I spoke to Kylie yesterday.”
Next to Joe, Kylie froze.
“And?” the guy asked. “Did you tell her your good news?”
“No. Not yet. She’s not ready to hear it yet. You have to work that girl into things slowly or she freaks out.”
Joe looked at Kylie, who still wasn’t moving.
“When she was little,” her mom said, “she’d lose it at the first sign of any drama or change. If I stopped dating someone. If I started dating someone. She’s a creature of habit and can’t handle any changes. It’s why her grandpa took her in.”
“Your dad?” the boyfriend asked. “The rich artist dude?”
Interesting way to phrase it, Joe thought. Interesting, and more than a little suspect.
“Yeah,” said Kylie’s mom distractedly. “He said he knew how to handle her, and he did. He was way better at it than me, too, and she was happy there. But he raised her to be like him—an old man. So if I had tried to tell her all in one call that I’d dumped Charlie and then started seeing you and now we want to elope, she’d have lost it.”
“You’re a grown woman, baby. And she’s your daughter.”
“Yeah, well, Kylie and my relationship is a bit . . . backward. She’s always thought of herself as the mom, and in truth, she’s often had to be.”
“You know what you need? A distraction,” he said huskily. “Let’s go to the bedroom, where I do my best work.”
Joe rolled his eyes at the line and when the two lovebirds had left the kitchen, he looked over at Kylie. He wasn’t even sure if she was breathing. He reached out to touch her, but she shook her head.
“I’m fine.”
No, she wasn’t, but she would be, he vowed. “How many boyfriends have there been?” he asked and knew by the look on her face that it’d been too many. “Did you get what you needed to hear?” he asked. “We done here?”
Looking a little lost, she nodded and started to climb down. Fast. “Kylie—”
Too late. She’d made it to the second-floor landing when her foot caught on a rung. Somehow that loosened the ladder, sending it cascading to the ground, Kylie in free fall along with it. The crash landing had him reliving the Molly nightmare all over again, helplessly watching her fall out of that tree. He rushed to climb down to the ledge and then dropped the rest of the way to the ground next to Kylie’s prone body. “Don’t move—”
“No, I’m okay,” she said, bouncing right up to quickly start walking back to the street.
“Kylie, stop. You’re not okay. You just blew out both knees on your jeans. Let me see your palms.”
“I’m fine,” she said, not stopping, not letting him touch her. Again she was on her phone, probably getting another Uber.
Her voice was shaking and her hands were too, but in some ways, her mom was right. Kylie needed to do things in her own way and in her own time, and Joe got that. He could give her the time she needed to get herself together. She had until they got back to her place, and then her time shutting him out was over. And yeah, he got the irony here. He’d shut her out first. But he was having a hell of a time keeping her shut out.
Chapter 27
#HastaLaVistaBaby
Kylie was still mad as she and Joe waited for an Uber. Mad at her mom, mad at her mom’s new boy toy, mad at the fire escape, and last but certainly not least, mad at Joe. To sum it up, she was mad at everyone and everything in her life.
Including herself.
Because dammit. Dammit, she could’ve really fallen for the smart, resourceful, resilient, stoically silent man behind her. But he’d cut off that possibility before he could feel the same. It infuriated her. No, wait, that wasn’t quite true.
It hurt her feelings.
But she wasn’t going to ask for more from him. She was going to move on. No more Gibs or Joes in her life.
Refusing to cry, which she had a tendency to do when she was really angry, she continued to ignore Joe as he insisted the Uber driver take them to his truck. Once there, he made a quick run up to his office for something—she didn’t care what—returning with a backpack slung over his shoulder, after which he drove her home. She unlocked her front door and limped into her apartment, throwing her things onto the couch before moving straight to the kitchen.
She still had ice cream in the freezer. She’d thought she’d needed Joe in her life. She’d thought she needed to talk to her mom. She’d thought she needed a lot of things, but it turned out that all she really needed in that moment was comfort food. Comfort food never failed her. Hauling out the ice cream, she slapped it into the microwave for fifteen seconds to soften it and then grabbed a spoon. Leaning against the counter, she dug in, eyes closed, concentrating only on the taste of the little chocolate chips melting on her tongue.
Thank God for chocolate.
Joe hadn’t followed her into the kitchen at first. Probably checking out the apartment, but she sensed when he showed up because her nipples got hard. Which was really annoying. She opened her eyes and yep, sure enough, he stood close, assessing her.
Normally when she was feeling way too many feelings, no one and nothing could get through to her. But the sight
of him pulling Twinkies along with a first-aid kit from his backpack was enough for her to feel her eyes fill with tears. So that’s what he’d gone up to his office for. “I’m fine,” she said, sounding totally not fine, dammit.
He picked her up and set her on the kitchen counter and then handed her the Twinkies. “My emergency stash.”
“You keep Twinkies as an emergency stash?” she asked.
“Oh yeah. Don’t tell Archer.”
“Cute,” she said and felt a little chunk of her anger fall away. But only a little. “Thanks.”
He took a good look at her hands. Her right palm was scraped up pretty good. He cleaned it out and bandaged it. Then he pulled her knees apart and stepped between them. “Tilt your head back a little,” he instructed quietly, his hands resting on her thighs, warming her from the inside out.
She bared her neck, feeling a little bit like Little Red Riding Hood making herself available to the Big Bad Wolf. Joe pushed her hair away from her face and took her head in his big, warm hands, his gaze taking in the spot on her temple where she’d smacked it on her less than perfect fire escape landing. “Tender?” he asked, probing gently.
“No.” Not that she’d admit to anyway.
He brushed a small kiss to the spot, which she felt all the way through her body. Hold firm, she told herself. You’re hurt and angry with him, remember? Sexy times, no matter how good he made them, couldn’t take that hurt and anger away. Yes, she’d been mentally sidetracked by the sweet offering of the Twinkies but she was past that now.
He unzipped her sweatshirt and tugged it off, leaving her in just a thin camisole top, making her glad her nipples had gotten ahold of themselves and calmed down.
“How about here?” he asked, touching her shoulder where she’d also scraped herself and taken off a few layers of skin.
Since she couldn’t find her voice, she shrugged.
Ignoring her bad ‘tude, he kissed that spot too, his lips lingering a bit longer, and all bets were off as far as her happy nipples were concerned. Every move he made spiked her heart rate as he continued his inspection, which was really playing havoc with her ability to hold on to her anger.
In fact, it was slipping right through her fingers in spite of her determination.
“And here?” he murmured, stroking the juncture between her neck and shoulder.
“I don’t know.” But she sighed as his mouth touched her there, brushing whisper-soft kisses across the tender skin. Then he gently set her down on her feet and met her gaze.
“Strip,” he said.
She gave a rough laugh at this because one, hell no. And two, even if she was willing to go there with him, she wasn’t nearly as comfortable in her skin as he was in his. He had no body issues at all and could walk around naked without even giving it another thought—nor should he—but she gave it lots of thoughts.
Joe stood there, taking up more than his fair share of the kitchen, waiting patiently with some humor in his gaze. “I want to see your knees. You’re bleeding through your jeans.”
Oh. Right. Her hands went to the waistband of her jeans and hesitated.
“What?” he asked.
She grimaced. “It feels weird to take off my pants in front of you when it’s not for sex. Like we’re playing dirty doctor or something.”
“How about after I get a look, you can order me to strip too,” he said and smiled. “You can be the sexy nurse.”
“What if I want to be the doctor?” she asked.
“Honey, once you’ve got me naked, you can be whatever you want to be.”
Rolling her eyes, she unbuttoned and unzipped and then had to execute a little shimmy to get the slightly too tight jeans down. She blamed Tina’s delicious and fattening muffins, but couldn’t get too worked up about that because if she was being honest, there was something almost unbearably erotic about stripping while Joe remained fully dressed. As her pants hit the floor, she felt her breathing change.
Joe took one look at her baby blue lacy thong and his breathing changed too. But he lifted her back up to the counter without comment. She squeaked because without her jeans, the tile was cold. He laughed softly, evilly, and then got down to doctoring.
When he had her knees patched up, he slid his hands to her butt and scooted her snug up against him, her thighs on either side of his hips. She squeezed him with her legs and felt him lean into her, his arms gently closing around her. He kissed her jaw, his lips nibbling oh so softly at her skin, and she had one cohesive thought.
I’m in such trouble . . .
“Joe?”
“Yeah?”
“I get to be the doctor now.”
“Doctor away,” he said, voice low and husky.
“What hurts?”
“Everything.”
Oh boy. She kissed him and then her brain shorted out and she closed her eyes because he was sliding one hand up to the back of her neck while his mouth did something pretty amazing as it worked its way across her collarbone. Flashes and bolts of heat slashed through her and whatever pain she’d been in was forgotten. She shifted to once again give him better access and he intercepted her mouth with his, making her moan as their tongues touched and another fresh bolt of lust ripped through her.
Joe kissed like he did everything else in his life—with an easy confidence and a skill that defied the odds. Being kissed by him took her out of herself and made her forget everything else. She could feel him hard through his jeans, and memories of what he felt like inside her tore another moan from her that he drank in greedily.
He used that hand he had low on her back to press her close as they moved against each other until she tore free, still breathing hard. It was crazy to her that he could get her halfway to orgasm with just a kiss, but without his mouth on her right now, thinking about it was more than a little embarrassing.
“Bed,” he said firmly and then carried her there. He was losing his clothes with quick efficiency when her brain kicked in.
Could she do this, just have sex and keep her heart out of it? She got off the bed and hesitated, unsure. Where was her red wig when she needed it?
The room was dark, only a small pool of light at the base of the window where the moon slanted in. She had no trouble seeing the outline of the dark, muscled shadow as he sat up and studied her. “I can go to the couch,” he said quietly. “Whatever you want. Just don’t ask me to leave you alone tonight.”
She chewed on her lower lip.
“Kylie.”
“I’m trying to decide what I want to do with you.”
“What are the options?” he asked.
“Kill you or kiss you.”
He laughed. “Here, let me help you decide.” Reaching out, he tugged her into him so that she stood between his spread thighs.
She sighed. “I find it really irritating that you smell so good. I want to bite you.”
He gave her a small smile. “Bite away.”
“I’m really mad at you, Joe.”
“I know. Let me make it all better.”
For now, he meant. But maybe not. Even in the dark she could see the need and yearning and hunger on his face. He wanted her every bit as much as she wanted him. Staring at him, she gave a slow nod and in one dizzying move, he snagged her around the waist and tugged her back onto the bed.
And then turned on the light.
“Hey,” she complained and lifted a hand to block her eyes. “Turn that off.”
“I want to see you.”
“You know what I look like!”
“Not when we’re naked,” he said.
“I’m not naked—” She broke off when he slid off her panties. Okay, now she was naked.
“We’ve never done this before,” he said.
She gaped up at him. “What are you talking about? We’ve done nothing but this.”
He smiled but shook his head. “Not as you. You’ve always been in a wig as a disguise. But now you’re you.”
She was finding it ve
ry hard to talk with his big, delicious bod holding her down. “I wasn’t in disguise that other morning in the shower,” she said.
“Semantics. Your sweet curves were all warm and wet and covered in soap. I lost my mind.”
“How about the other night when you showed up late—”
“That’s just it,” he said. “It was late. And dark.” He pushed her hair from her face and made himself very at home between her legs. “Where were we?”
With her about to walk. But now she had him this close and she couldn’t hold on to her resolve. Not ready to have the conversation with him in this position, hell, not wanting to have it at all, she rolled so that she was on top. Better. Now he was sprawled out beneath her, all sinew and heat, and she couldn’t think. One last time, she told herself. You can have him this one last time before you walk away. “I think we were just about to rock each other’s world.”
“I like the sound of that.” Then he rolled, and before she could blink, she was pinned beneath him again.
And not, apparently, because he was in any sort of hurry to get to it. No, it was as if it was the complete opposite. A switch had been thrown and suddenly he seemed to have all the time in the world as he worked his way down her body, kissing, licking, nibbling, and then kissing again, every single inch of her. She was writhing, begging him for more, but he couldn’t be rushed as he made his way back to her mouth for a kiss that was hot, deep, and slow, and she absolutely melted. He kissed her like that for long minutes, seemingly content to just drink her in as they rolled over the bed, taking turns on top. She reveled in the dominant position for long, rare moments, reacquainting herself with every inch of him, wondering if she’d ever get enough of feeling his heat, his hard muscles quivering beneath her tongue. And when she took him just a little too far, when he groaned her name and pulled her up to straddle him, she took his hands in hers and pushed them over his head as she brought him deep inside her.
The ambient glow from her bathroom night-light lit his warrior’s body in bold relief, highlighting the sheen of his skin and the flex of his muscles moving beneath it, all the way down past his abs to where their bodies were joined. She watched, helplessly fascinated, as his body surged into hers, again and again and again. Her eyes drank in the details of him, the faint line of hair down his belly, a long, thin scar across his ribs, the line of stitches from the other night, another scar in the hollow of his shoulder.