Kit And Kisses

by Smith, Karen Rose

  He pulled up in front of a two and a half story home with a wide porch. From across the street, she watched as he climbed out of his car, went up the steps, and rang the doorbell. Someone opened the door and let him inside. She couldn't see if it was a man or a woman.

  The heat hadn't let up, but Kit didn't want to keep the air running. Her hat felt as if it were melting onto her head as the sweat rolled down her cheeks. Swiping it away, she yanked off the cap and brushed her bangs from her forehead.

  Fifteen minutes later, her fingers tapping on the door frame, Kit asked herself again, What am I doing?

  You're protecting yourself.

  Then why did sitting here feel so wrong?

  Because Grey had asked her to trust him, and spying on him was the direct opposite of trusting.

  The questions kept coming. How did she know he deserved her trust?

  She didn't. But was this the way to find out?

  When Kit had asked Maggie if she could borrow her car, Maggie had given her a probing look. She'd probably suspected what Kit was going to do. They supported each other. They let each other make their own mistakes. And this was a mistake. This was no way to learn to trust again.

  Kit started the car and drove past the house that held Grey's secret.

  ***

  Working most of the afternoon and evening, Kit sat in her kitchen, the fan pushing air past her nose, ruffling her hair, as it directed some of the cooler night breeze into her apartment from her open door. Byron lay stretched on the back windowsill. Keats had chosen a similar position on the sill above the sink.

  Engrossed in an ad layout for the past hour, Kit ignored the sounds outside, ignored thoughts and questions about Grey as much as denial would allow her. Whenever her attention strayed, she forced it back on work.

  Byron meowed and Kit looked up. "What, baby?"

  A moment later, Kit heard footsteps followed by a rap on the door. She'd locked the screen door and in the dark of night couldn't make out a figure there. "Eric? Maggie?"

  "No. Kit, it's Grey. Can I talk to you?" His voice was rich and deep and held a demand as much as a request.

  The temperature in her kitchen seemed to go up a few degrees and her palms sweated. Her purple knit shorts and tank top were not intended for company—they'd seen at least three seasons of washing. But she wasn't about to change.

  The tile floor was still warm under her bare feet as she went to the door and unhooked the lock without saying anything.

  Although he was draped in shadows, the outline of his broad shoulders was clear. "I know it's late. But I wanted to do this tonight."

  She opened the door, and as he stepped into the lighted room, met his gaze. "Do what?"

  He focused on her lips for a moment and then he canvassed the rest of her. Her nipples hardened and she remembered she'd discarded her bra when she'd changed. For a moment she thought about ducking into her bedroom then chided herself for the thought. This was her house...he was imposing on her privacy. And "imposing" was definitely the word. His skin was tan against his navy shorts and polo shirt, his black hair rough and masculine. Her heart beat much too fast for her well-being.

  He concentrated his focus on her so intensely she felt naked...and vulnerable. Did he know she'd followed him today? Had he caught her spying? Was he here to tell her to stay out of his private life?

  "There's something I'd like to explain," he said evenly, without the anger she expected.

  "Where you went last night?"

  His dark brows furrowed as he frowned. "That's part of it. Can I sit down?"

  She nodded.

  He chose the loveseat.

  She settled on the kitchen chair across from him. Better not to get too close.

  He rested his hands on his knees. "I have a sister."

  She couldn't tell anything from his expression or the tone of his voice. "You told me that the night we danced at The Music Box."

  "You have a good memory."

  She probably remembered every word he'd said to her. Looking at his hands, his lips, she remembered not only his words.

  He studied her carefully and she didn't know what he was looking for as he said, "Deedee lived with Dad and I until...he got sick."

  The slight hesitation in Grey's voice caught her attention more than his words. Kit edged forward on her chair. His voice grew huskier as he continued. "When Deedee was four, we visited the summer cottage of a friend of Dad's. It was on a lake. They had four kids and some other friends were there with their children. Deedee was the youngest. When the rest of us went swimming, Mom kept her with them. But Deedee begged to sit and watch at the shore of the lake and Mom agreed."

  "What happened?" Kit asked softly.

  "Deedee never sat still," he went on giving the impression he would have continued without her question. "She came in after us but none of us saw her. Mom had only turned her back for a minute. We don't know how long she was under water. I got to her first and pulled her out. Dad did CPR until the paramedics arrived."

  "Oh, Grey."

  He shook his head. "There was brain damage. Originally the doctors told us she'd never come back to us. But with rehabilitation and Mom's constant attention, she did. Except...there was permanent damage. Her ability to learn was affected and at twenty-four, she's somewhat childlike. Problem solving is still difficult."

  The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. Kit felt so ashamed she hadn't trusted Grey, had suspected him of subterfuge, of being involved with someone already. "Where does she live now?"

  "In a group home in Meadeville. She has a part time job at the pet store. Last night there was a mix-up. No one picked her up at work and we didn't know what had happened to her. She was lost for an hour until I found her walking home. Apparently she'd stopped for an ice cream cone and was dawdling while she ate it."

  Kit could read the fear and worry Grey wouldn't express. "And you were terrified something had happened to her."

  His eyes stayed on hers. "Yes."

  "Why didn't you tell me? Why did you keep this all to yourself?"

  His silence lasted for three beats of her heart until he said, "We haven't known each other very long."

  "That's true, but—"

  "Yes, it's the 'but' that's the problem. You and I...connect."

  She couldn't tell if the connection pleased him or was the source of dismay. "That's one way of putting it. But I still don't understand why you didn't tell me about your sister. Why keep her a secret?"

  "She's more than a relative, Kit. She's my family. I'd do anything for her. I'd drop anything to make sure she's safe and well."

  "I feel the same about Maggie."

  He paused for a moment as if he'd never thought about that. "There's a difference. I have financial responsibility for Deedee, too. I always will."

  "Those aren't the reasons you didn't tell me."

  For a moment only the night sound of crickets pulsed into the room. Then Grey said sadly, "People don't accept 'different' well."

  "Are you putting me in that category?"

  "I wouldn't be here tonight if I were."

  His response carried intimacy he wanted to share as well as an element of hope. So she had to tell him about this afternoon or she'd be keeping a secret, too, and secrets were dangerous to any relationship. "Grey, I did something today I shouldn't have."

  For the first time since he arrived, a slip of a smile played on his lips. "You drew up a another new floor plan for the store."

  "I followed you."

  His brows arched.

  "For about twenty minutes, I sat outside a house on Laurel Avenue after you went inside then decided I wouldn't learn to trust you by spying on you. I left."

  He was silent for a few moments, his expression serious. Then raising his arm, he crooked his finger at her. "Come here."

  The huskiness in his voice drew her as much as his words. She moved over to him and sat next to him, well
aware of her bare leg touching his, the heat of him next to her. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you."

  He dropped his arm around her shoulders. "In the end, you did. I understand why trusting is hard for you. Trent Higgins hurt you."

  Resting against Grey, she could feel his taut muscles against her shoulder. The male scent of him, his presence beside her, his fingers caressing her upper arm made the living room spin.

  Turning toward her, he took her chin in his hand. "I handled last night poorly."

  She couldn't keep her hand in her lap when she wanted to touch him so badly. Stroking his jaw, she admitted, "I shouldn't have pushed."

  "Maybe I needed a push," he murmured, his voice raspy as he bent and covered her lips with his.

  Kit needed no push to give into the overwhelming attraction she felt for Grey. He was the man she thought he was—honest, hard-working, caring. She understood everything he hadn't said. His sister had been hurt by people who saw her differences and couldn't accept them. Grey had been hurt, too, though he might not admit it.

  Kit didn't know what would happen when she met Deedee. Accepting differences had never been a problem for Kit. But the bigger question was—would Deedee accept her?

  Grey's tongue teasing her lips brought a moan from her soul. She opened her mouth to him and held on to his shoulders as his tongue darted inside. Her senses reeled.

  With a groan, he scooped her onto his lap. She felt his arousal under her thigh and knew she was stoking it when she pressed into him, needing more of his touch.

  His hand slipped under her top and caressed her back in small circles, then wider ones. Her sigh of pure pleasure must have pleased him because he stroked higher. His touch on her skin was heavenly.

  But suddenly he stopped, realizing she wasn't wearing a bra. Breaking off the kiss, he rested his chin on the top of her head, his breathing hard and fast.

  His arms still circled her, and she felt the tension in his body that came from restraint. "Grey?"

  He rubbed his chin back and forth across her hair. "You are such a temptation."

  "You think you aren't?" she muttered.

  He laughed, the rumble deep and strong against her breast.

  As he held her and they breathed in unison, she asked in a small voice, "Why did you stop?"

  Shifting on the loveseat, he tipped her chin up so he could meet her gaze. "Because I respect us both too much to race ahead without thinking about it. If we get as far as the bedroom, I don't want either of us to have regrets afterwards." Brushing her bangs away from her brows, he said, "I'm surprised you asked."

  When she didn't respond, he frowned. "Higgins really did a number on you, didn't he? Don't you know what a desirable woman you are?"

  "He lied so much, Grey, afterwards I didn't know what was true about the relationship and what wasn't. Including whether he desired me as a woman or simply saw me as a pigeon."

  Grey brought her to him for another explosive kiss. It was hungry and encompassing, igniting an ache that was scary in its fiery demand for satisfaction. When he pulled away, he said, "You're no pigeon, Kit. You are a sexy, desirable woman."

  Tears pricked in her eyes. Ducking her head, she laid her cheek against his chest. "I want to meet your sister."

  Grey was still and she wondered if she was pushing again.

  "All right," he said quietly. "She's working tomorrow. We can stop in at the pet shop. Keeping it casual will probably be best."

  Kit had thought that about her relationship with Grey, too. But she suddenly realized she'd gone beyond casual, closer to intimate, and the idea scared her more than losing every cent in the bank account she'd rebuilt with determination, hard work and care.

  ***

  The Pet Emporium was a flurry of activity as Grey guided Kit inside. He had no regrets that he'd told her about Deedee. But bringing her here specifically to meet his sister had worried him all day. Too much was riding on what happened tonight. He always felt better when he had a planned agenda in front of him. But with Kit and Deedee... Nothing about tonight could be planned.

  "Where do they get their pups?" Kit asked casually.

  Grey was beginning to understand how her mind worked. "From breeders in the area. No puppy mills are involved."

  She gave him a bright smile that didn't look in the least bit worried. But when he didn't smile back, she laid her hand on his arm. "Will you relax? I've met people's relatives before."

  Grey mowed his hand through his hair. "Deedee and the last woman I dated didn't...get along."

  "Why?"

  "Susan treated Deedee like a bothersome child."

  "And you put up with that?" she asked with more curiosity than censure.

  "When I realized Susan's attitude would never change, we parted ways. But several times Deedee got her feelings tramped on in the process."

  "I imagine she's possessive about the time she spends with you."

  Sometimes Kit was too perceptive for his comfort. "Yes."

  She shrugged. "All right. So now I know the situation. Just introduce me to your sister and we'll see what happens."

  Her attitude made Grey smile. "Do you always meet life head-on?"

  "I don't know any other way to meet it."

  He shook his head. "Remind me to kiss you later."

  Tilting her head, she teased, "Do you need to be reminded?"

  He groaned and tapped her chin with his finger. "Don't ask. I'd do it now, except—"

  "Grey, what are you doing here?" Deedee's sweet, high voice sailed over Kit's shoulder.

  When he motioned to his sister, Kit turned to face the younger woman. "I brought someone for you to meet," he answered. Deedee's dark brown eyes started at Kit's head and swept down to her toes. "I'm busy. I have to feed the dogs," she responded sullenly as her gaze met Grey's but avoided Kit's.

  Kit smiled at Deedee anyway. "We don't want to interrupt your work. Can we watch?"

  Deedee glanced at the woman at the checkout counter. "I don't know. I have to ask Monica if it's okay."

  "I'm sure Monica won't mind..." Grey began.

  "I have to ask," Deedee said firmly.

  Grey sighed. "All right. Go ask. We'll go back and look at the pups."

  "Don't go in," Deedee warned.

  "We won't." He took Kit's arm, directing her to the middle of the store. They peered through a large glass window into a room with built-in cages. "Deedee takes her responsibilities seriously."

  "We've invaded her territory, Grey."

  She didn't sound surprised or impatient. Kit's attitude was so different than Susan's. Susan expected Deedee's respect, her notice, her acceptance. It seemed Kit expected nothing.

  Deedee returned and with another covert glance at Kit opened the door into the pet room. One cage held two kittens, both were sleeping. Three cages held pups—a dachshund, a cocker spaniel, and a mixed breed who stood and wagged his fuzzy tail.

  "Supper time, guys," Deedee announced to the animals. To Kit and Grey she said, "You can stand over in the corner."

  As Deedee poured food into the dogs' bowls, Grey mentioned, "Kit has two cats."

  Deedee stopped pouring for a moment. "Oh?"

  "They're pretty grown up, though," Kit added. "Byron's six and Keats is five."

  Deedee placed a bowl in the dachshund's cage and patted his head. "Those are funny names."

  "I guess they are. I named them after men who wrote poetry."

  Closing the first cage, Deedee picked up the second bowl. "What's poetry?"

  "Words about how people feel or how something looks. Sort of like a song," Kit explained.

  Deedee gave her a curious look. "I like songs. I like Brad Paisley. Grey likes books with big long words. Do you?"

  "Sure do."

  Deedee seemed to absorb that as she opened the second cage and set the bowl inside. After scratching the cocker above his ears, she asked, "Grey, are you going to the movies?"

 
; He understood where that question originated. "We don't have any plans. Monica told me you get off at six. Should I call Tanya and tell her we'll bring you home?"

  "I guess we can't play ball," Deedee muttered, with a sideways glance at Kit.

  Before Grey could respond, Kit asked, "Do you like butterflies, Deedee?"

  She faced Kit, her eyes bright with curiosity. "Butterflies?"

  "I have a special garden with lots of butterflies. Would you like to see them?"

  Deedee turned to her brother. "I don't know. Can I?"

  Grey didn't know where Kit was headed with this but if it helped her and Deedee to get to know each other, he was all for it. "I'll call Tanya and tell her we'll bring you back later."

  "I can't go until I finish work."

  Kit nodded. "I want to look for some new toys for Byron and Keats. We'll be ready when you are."

  Grey and Kit left Deedee in the pet room. He showed Kit to a rack with an array of pet paraphernalia. "Is there really such a thing as a garden especially for butterflies?"

  Kit passed her fingers over a red sweater fashioned to fit a Chihuahua. "I don't know if you'll find it in the encyclopedia, but there are certain flowers and plants that attract them."

  "This is in your backyard?"

  Sliding a collar with rhinestones from the peg, she smiled as she examined it. "Uh hm. The landlord lets me plant whatever I want. He just mows around it. None of the upstairs tenants ever cared about the yard."

  "I smelled the roses the other night." When he'd kissed her.

  "They're up near the house." She hung the collar where she'd found it.

  "Between pets and butterflies maybe you and Deedee can find common ground. But I want to warn you, don't pretend interest you don't feel. She'll be able to tell."

  Kit's expression changed as she turned and stared at him. Her eyes became opaque blue—a color that hid her feelings. She waved toward the pet room. "Do you think I was pretending in there?"

  "You were trying hard."

  Her cheeks flushed and she brushed her bangs to one side as her voice lowered. "I was trying, period. To relate to someone new. And I resent the implication that I'd pretend with Deedee to get closer to you."