Falling For Ken (Blueprint to Love Book 2)

by Giordano, Lauren

  But Harry didn't know how to distance himself from the ache of compassion he felt for Kendall's lonely childhood. From the hot, bubbling anger toward parents who hadn't cherished her. He hadn't expected the . . . longing he experienced every time he looked at her. As though he could spend the rest of his days just . . . being with her. He sure as hell hadn't planned for the deep, stirring certainty taking root in his chest.

  He thought about his blueprint . . . the meticulous map he'd drawn for his journey through life. And forced the question that had nagged him for days. What would his blueprint look like without Kendall in it?

  ***

  Kendall blinked owlishly and pulled herself upright in the seat. "Where am I?" She winced at the raspy sound of her voice, still sluggish from sleep.

  "We're nearly home. You're going up to bed for a nap."

  "Traynor– I have a hundred things to do and you want me to nap?" He'd only been back an hour and already he was telling her what to do?

  "Yeah. And if you don't give me a hard time, I might be convinced to join you for a little while."

  Glaring at him, she realized her heart wasn't in the argument. It was too busy careening around her chest, tripping like a rapid-fire machine gun.

  Traynor. In bed. With her.

  In seconds, she went from unconscious to throbbingly aware of him. One subtle glance at his knowing grin told her he'd just finished reading her every thought. "Quit doing that."

  "What have I done now?" Pulling into her driveway, he switched off the engine before turning to face her.

  "You're pretty sure of yourself all of a sudden." She eyed him suspiciously.

  "In matters of the heart, it's important to appear confident."

  "Name one time in your life you weren't positive of the outcome," she challenged. How could someone like Harrison understand what it was like for everyone else? He'd been one of them– the 'has-it-all' crowd. Despite his mother's alcoholism . . . despite his father's emotional abandonment . . . he'd still managed to be popular, well-liked and ultimately, successful. She, on the other hand, had spent her life outside the candy store window, nose to the glass, watching everyone else eat sweets.

  Startled when he tipped her chin up, Harry forced her to make eye contact when she would have turned away– when she wanted to look anywhere other than into those knowing eyes.

  "I'm not positive now," he admitted. "I know what I want– what I've wanted from the moment you left me Tuesday."

  Rather than struggle against the walls of her chest, her heart leaped straight into her throat. "W-what's that?"

  "I want to make love with you again. I want to see your eyes . . . that beautiful flashing gold. I want to feel your luscious body-"

  "H-harrison-" she croaked. Heat flooded her body, leaving her shaking in its frothy wake.

  "But most of all, I want to hear you . . . when you say my name. It's the most incredible sound I've ever heard."

  Her eyes widening with shock, she struggled to pull in a breath. When Harry released her, she rocketed from the car. She had to stop twice on the way up the porch stairs, grasping the railing when her knees threatened to collapse. Risking a glance over her shoulder, Harrison trailed her by a step or two, deftly mastering the steps with his cane. Ken acknowledged that his broken ankle had been reduced in status to a mere nuisance. Whistling softly under his breath, he winked in acknowledgment and her pulse soared to what was surely a dangerous level. With his injuries nearly healed, spending time with Harrison was about as safe as juggling a sparking stick of dynamite.

  "We'll see about that, Traynor."

  ***

  They made it to her bed, but only barely. Kendall's intent had been space . . . lots of it. This thing with Harrison– was too dangerous to start up again. But he caught her in the kitchen. All he had to do was touch her. Those perfect, capable hands. . . And that smile– the one that tricked her into thinking she was the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen.

  She was done for.

  She'd lost her hairband in the kitchen when he'd tugged her hair free of the ponytail. Their shirts had been discarded on the landing halfway up the stairs, leaving Lurch in a jumbled pile of clothing. Kendall couldn't be sure, but she vaguely remembered leaving her bra on the banister at the top of the stairs. And by the time Harrison rid himself of his pants, she wasn't able to think at all. Skin on glorious skin. She ran trembling hands down his back, reveling when his muscles corded under her fingertips. Lord, she'd missed feeling him next to her. She'd missed his quiet presence.

  All these years, her solitary life had never felt lonely. Until this week when her house had seemed shatteringly empty without him in it. She'd missed his teasing remarks. The only time she'd heard his easy, bantering voice had been on her voicemail. She'd missed everything about him.

  "Kenny . . . you're so beautiful." She shivered when he traced the length of her arms. They stood facing each other at the foot of her bed. His touch was soft, the caress gentle, as though he was fascinated by the texture of her skin. "So soft and beautiful. So responsive. I love watching you."

  She only had to lift her gaze to Harrison's eyes to see the conviction behind the words. In his unwavering gaze, she was beautiful. For as long as it lasted, she would choose to believe him.

  "Kendall. . . I missed you this week. Did you think of me? Even once?"

  The last week had been lonely . . . so unbearably lonely without him. She slowly nodded, too mesmerized by the smoldering expression in his eyes to look away, her heart too giddy with joy to remember she wanted to be cautious. "I thought about you all the time."

  Harry released the breath he had been holding and acknowledged the first trickle of relief. It bothered him that he was even a little nervous. And while part of him was shouting with the rough need to pull her against him, with the overwhelming desire to touch and be touched, another part of him had iced over with fear. He was supposed to be the one in control. But when he held Kendall in his arms . . . when she swayed toward him the way she was now, he felt anything but control. He felt only desire . . . a dark, desperate need that threatened to spiral out of control. He'd tried to keep himself separate from it and when that hadn't worked he'd tried to run from it. And in the end, he hadn't really wanted to leave.

  When Ken's lips curved in a tentative smile that ignited her golden eyes, an answering stab of possessiveness clenched his gut. When she leaned in to brush his lips with hers, Harry felt only the liquid pull of heat. And knew he would never have enough of her. Not today. Not in six months. Not in a dozen years.

  His hands shaking, he tugged her closer, groaning with raw pleasure when their bodies collided. Sinking into her sweetness, he deepened the kiss until they were both trembling with need.

  "Harrison. . ."

  His name was a soft breathy moan that spilled from her lips when Harry found the fluttering pulse in her throat. She melted against him like soft, pliant wax, her head falling back against his shoulder when his mouth latched on to her breast. His heart thundered in primitive response to the sheer wonder of her surrender. Her nipple tightened against his tongue and he nearly exploded with the need to be inside her. He lowered his hand to her waist and still lower to her smooth, flat stomach. Ken's knees actually buckled when he cupped her with his hand. Harry's smile was fleeting at best when he discovered her hot, wet center. What was left of his control simply shattered.

  "Kendall, love. . . I need you. Tell me you want me." Raising his gaze to hers, he found his first real smile. Huge with wonder, the beautiful golden flecks on fire with passion. If his own need wasn't so painful, he would have given anything to simply watch her beautiful, expressive eyes, watch them glaze over when he took her over the edge of the precipice they both clung to.

  "I want you . . . now, Harry." She tugged him down on the bed, her hands trembling when she sheathed him with a condom. He groaned low in his throat while he tried to capture her hands. But the pull of her heat, the sheer wonder of her skin against his own w
as too much for him. He couldn't wait a moment longer.

  They sighed in unison when he finally slipped inside, filling her. Her smile was one of delight. Harrison felt a corresponding ache of acknowledgment in his chest. His thoughts grew disjointed with each thrust until his sole focus was pleasure. And when Kendall moaned, when the shivers of her release rocketed through him, the throaty rasp of her sexy voice sent him beyond the edge of reason. His mind splintered into a thousand tiny pieces.

  She was still quaking when he collapsed next to her, her eyes still dazed when he leaned in to kiss the satiny sheen of her shoulder. As he stared down into her face, his heart tripped along like a freight train. And when she smiled up at him, Harry was lost all over again.

  How had desire turned so quickly to need? It should have troubled him that he could no longer separate the two. But she'd slipped inside his head. She'd taken ownership of his heart. He'd felt the connection and tried to dismiss it. But there would be no more denial. At least not on his part. Because in the dusty corners of his muddled brain, an increasingly persistent voice whispered crazy words like forever. Holding Ken in his arms felt as natural as breathing. Protecting her, helping her. . . He wanted it all. And he wanted it with Kendall. She was the light and the warmth in his sterile, lonely world. She was the woman who would bring color and dimension to his flat blueprint. The only woman who could bring his plan to life.

  He needed her. And right now, forever didn't seem like nearly enough time. With a thunderbolt of certainty, Harry knew he could spend the rest of his life coming home to her. On the good days and bad. Especially the bad days– because she would make them better– just by being there.

  "Kenny?"

  "Mmm?"

  Her sleepy, sated voice dragged over his nerve-endings. Even now, only moments later, he wanted her again. "I love you, Kendall."

  "That's nice." Sighing, she burrowed into his neck.

  The silence ticked on for several long seconds. Harry was just beginning to wonder whether he would have to wake her up and summon his courage all over again when she bolted up.

  "What?" All trace of sleepiness gone from her expressive eyes, his heart stumbled when he read her panicked expression.

  "I love you." When she would have leaped from the bed, he quickly blocked her escape, pinning her trembling limbs with his good leg. "I'm sorry to spring it on you like this, but you're just gonna have to learn to live with it."

  "Harrison. . . y-you don't have to say. . . that." She hesitated, seeming to choose each word carefully. "My eyes are wide open. I know what I'm getting into. You don't have to pretend to feel something-"

  "But I do feel it. I know it's too soon," he admitted. "I'm not looking for you to say anything, okay?"

  "Harrison– h-how can you . . . how can you know-"

  "I've spent thirty-three years on the planet never feeling anything like this,” he explained, frowning over the trace of annoyance he heard in his voice.

  "But-"

  "Look– I know you don't want to trust me, but you're going to have to make an exception." He cut off her stammered reaction, his heart skipping erratically in his suddenly constricted chest. Hell– he shouldn't have told her. Not so soon. He felt the crackling tension in her body, felt the shockwaves radiate out to encompass him, too. He should have waited– until he could make her realize she loved him, too.

  "But– where did this come from," she whispered.

  "I've been fighting it . . . nearly from the beginning." He nodded over her expression of disbelief. "You don't see what I do when I look at you . . . when I spend time with you."

  "I'm just . . . a novelty. Those feelings won't last."

  His heart sank with the certainty of her words and nearly broke over her bewildered expression. Of course love didn't last . . . not in her world. No one had ever loved her enough to stay. How could she believe in someone like him– when her own family hadn't been worthy of her trust? "I know what I feel, Kenny. My heart knows."

  "Harrison . . . you don't– if you knew the real me . . . you wouldn't want me."

  Amber eyes bright with unshed tears, the pain flaring in their depths made Harry's chest ache. He brought his fingertips to her lips, silencing her confusion. His feelings were too new . . . too raw. He didn't think he could bear to hear her uncertainty. It would be better to simply wait her out. She cared for him. They couldn't be so connected without her wanting it too.

  He would reassure her what he felt was real. Through whatever happened, he would be there with her. That together, they would be happier than he'd ever dreamed possible.

  "Don't say anything," Harry whispered before he dropped his gaze to her lips and smiled. "Let's just wait and see what develops, okay?" He brushed his mouth against hers, his heart soaring over the telling shudder she couldn't seem to contain. Ken opened to him on a soft sigh of wonder and he stepped willingly back into her warmth, tumbling back into love all over again. He finally had a plan. The blueprint was clear. He would gain her trust . . . and her love . . . one kiss, one stroke, one loving word at a time.

  Kendall would learn just how patient he could be.

  ***

  There'd been no more talk of love, only the actions of a man in love. They'd driven each other crazy for as long as Harry could bear it before he'd experienced the most powerful release he'd ever known. Then he'd held Ken until she'd stopped trembling, until his own heart had finally slowed to a dull, reassuring thud. He'd watched her slip into sleep, enjoying her soft smile when she stretched against him.

  He watched her now from the doorway, lingering over the task, reluctant to leave for even an hour. But keeping up with Charlie's schedule meant he had calls to make. Once downstairs, it only took a moment to retrieve the number he'd scribbled in Kendall's office a few days ago– mere minutes before the place had gone up in flames. He dialed the number, gathering his thoughts while he waited. The phone rang several times before it was finally answered.

  "Yeah?"

  "Lance? This is Harrison Traynor. We met last week?" He frowned when the oily little weasel cut him off– rambling about the fire and the cause. His blood pressure spiked when Barker immediately tried to pin the blame on Kendall. With effort, he forced back the contempt surging through him. Charlie had given specific instructions. He couldn't mess up the plan just because he was furious.

  "I was calling about the offer you made a few days ago– you know. . . about selling? Is that something you're interested in? The way I see it– you and Ms. Adams don't have much choice. I need that sitework completed in the next month– otherwise, Specialty will be in a bind with the schedule." Biting his tongue when Barker interrupted him, Harry forced back the words he wanted to let fly. For Charlie's plan to work, he had to bait the hook just right. Scanning the bulleted items in his notes, he checked them off.

  "Lance– if we buy A & R, that saves us the time and trouble of you going into default. There's no sense involving the bonding company. Hell, we'd lose a couple months negotiating a settlement." Harry listened carefully, jotting notes on the legal pad. So far. . . everything was proceeding according to plan. If Barker seemed eager, it would confirm Charlie's intelligence– that he'd exhausted his chances with the people higher up the food chain.

  "Great. I'm sure we'll be able to do business. Why don't you discuss my offer with Miss Adams and I'll call in a few days."

  ***

  Later that night, when they were both comfortably seated on her deck, Harry took the final step off the plank and put Charlie's plan into action. Kendall was relaxed and happy, her bare feet tucked under the fluffy folds of her robe, her violin still loosely clasped in slender fingers. She'd played for him. . . shyly at first. . . then with certainty. And she'd taken him on a mystical, lyrical journey that left him breathless. The arrangement was moody yet hopeful, gently optimistic but cautious. And the musician herself was absolutely magical. Harry watched, mesmerized while she wove his heart through her fingers, binding him more tightly to her with e
ach passing second.

  She was quiet now, gazing softly into the growing dusk as it settled peacefully over them. The heady scent of her sleeping garden washed over him, leaving Harry more content than he'd ever dreamed possible. But the moment he dreaded had finally come. His heart stuttering an erratic beat, he prayed he wouldn't regret the words he was about to speak.

  "There's been an offer for your company, Kenny."

  Her luminous eyes were startled when she raised them to meet his. "How can that be? Who would know about-" Understanding dawned in her expression. "Everyone knows I'm in trouble, right?"

  Harry ignored her question. If he hesitated now, he might change his mind. "It's not bad for a first pass. But we could probably get them to raise the offer a little . . . get enough so you can pay off all your debts. Maybe walk away with a little money left over."

  "How did you hear about this?"

  He'd anticipated that question. "They contacted Specialty . . . they know about the bond. Probably figured we'd be working some kind of deal with you."

  "Who are these people?"

  He cringed at the stiffness that had crept into her voice. Dammit, he wanted this to be over with. The sooner they moved beyond the mess with Lance, the sooner he could devote himself to their future– to the more daunting task of earning her trust.

  "They– they didn't say. It's some kind of joint venture. A few different interests. . . their attorney contacted us."

  Ken turned to him, her expression unfathomable in the growing darkness, but something flickered in her eyes that tightened the knot in his stomach. "How could I take any offer seriously if I don't know who they are?"

  Harry shrugged, forcing a casualness he sure as hell didn't feel. "If the money's right . . . the rest usually falls into place pretty quickly."

  She shook her head, a frown forming in her eyes. "What about my crew? I'd want to know they'd be protected. Would they still have jobs?"