Kit And Kisses

Home > Other > Kit And Kisses > Page 10
Kit And Kisses Page 10

by Smith, Karen Rose


  He plucked an egg from the plastic container. "What?"

  "Can I go camping?"

  Lowering the egg slowly to his plate, he asked, "With Tanya?"

  Deedee shook her head vigorously. "No. With the guys at work—Jenny, Winston, Monica and Mark."

  After a long pause, he responded, "I don't know, Dee."

  "Where are they going camping?" Kit asked, as she watched Grey's expression become concerned.

  "Gettysburg. Jenny says we can cook our supper over the fire, and toast marshmallows, and go hiking. I want to go, Grey. Can I?"

  "I don't think it's a good idea, Dee."

  Deedee's eyes widened and her mouth trembled. "Why? I can sleep in a tent with Jenny and Monica. In a sleeping bag. I never did that. Please let me go."

  Kit could see Grey's struggle though she didn't understand it. "It sounds like fun. When are they going?"

  "Friday. After work. But Tanya said Grey has to say yes."

  He pushed his plate aside. "I can't say yes, honey."

  Kit watched tears well up in Deedee's eyes. "Grey, maybe..."

  "Stay out of this, Kit. You have no idea what's involved."

  Stay out of it? Stay out of what, his life? The food on her plate suddenly lost its appeal and her appetite vanished. She couldn't challenge him in front of Deedee because she didn't want to make the situation worse. Yet... She felt very much as she had when she was a child and her father gave her mother an order. Kit hadn't kept quiet then, either.

  "So why don't you tell me what is involved," she returned, not letting him close her out that easily.

  His brow arched and the nerve in his jaw worked. "We'll discuss it later."

  Kit looked at Deedee and her woebegone expression and felt she had to go to bat for her. "I think Grey needs to find out more about the trip."

  Deedee's face brightened. "You can talk to Jenny."

  Grey gave Kit a dark look. "All right. I'll talk to Jenny. But I'm not making any promises, Dee. A camping trip can be dangerous. I don't want you going somewhere where you might get hurt."

  "I like going different places," Deedee said with a pout.

  "I know you do. But I'm not sure a campground is a good 'different' place. Maybe I can take you camping sometime."

  "I want to go with Jenny," she pronounced stubbornly.

  Grey almost looked hurt and Kit realized he hadn't let go of his sister. He was afraid to let her live her own life if he wasn't there to protect her.

  The mood of their picnic took a decided downturn after that. Grey tried to get Deedee excited about playing a game of catch, but it was obvious she had one concern on her mind. When he dropped her off at the group home, she asked, "Are you going to talk to Jenny?"

  He sighed. "I'll talk to her tomorrow. Okay?"

  "Call me after."

  "I will."

  Kit slid out of the cab so Deedee could climb out. Grey's sister was half way up the walk when she turned around and said, "Bye, Kit."

  Kit smiled. "Good-bye, Deedee." She wanted to say she'd see her again soon, but she didn't know what would happen once she and Grey were alone.

  It didn't take long to find out.

  Grey's jaw was set, his focus directed straight ahead as he drove to Kit's apartment. The silence would have lasted longer but as soon as he switched off the ignition, Kit said patiently, "Say what you're thinking."

  "It's better if I don't."

  "Afraid you'll hurt my feelings?" She was determined to have him speak his mind instead of brooding or treating her like a stranger.

  He turned toward her, his expression more pained than angry. "That's exactly what I'm concerned about."

  "I'd like to know what's bothering you rather than guessing about it."

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You don't realize what's involved in Deedee's life, what she can and can't do, the type of supervision she needs."

  Kit sat deep in the seat, wanting to touch him, but realizing he might not like what she was going to say. "I realize that you're probably as protective now as when she lived with you. Maybe more so. You said yourself you let her move into the group home so she could become more independent. Independent means making decisions, choosing activities, going places without you."

  Frowning, he stared out the windshield. "She can choose activities and make decisions within limits. And when she goes somewhere she needs looking after."

  "She doesn't want to go camping alone, Grey," Kit reminded him reasonably.

  He whizzed his hand in front of the steering wheel. "None of the people she works with are over twenty-five. They don't realize she acts before she thinks. They don't know her—"

  "They work with her. Of course, they know her."

  Turning toward Kit again, he placed one hand between them on the seat, the other on the dashboard. "Working with her in a confined place where she has definite duties is not the same thing as a camping trip. And I wish you'd kept your thoughts to yourself."

  Kit stared at his hand so close to her, yet felt the distance of his attitude even more poignantly. "You said as much."

  He raked his hand through his hair. "I've been dealing with Deedee most of my life. You just met her."

  Her gaze locked to his and for a moment she wanted to agree with him, to dissipate the tension. But she wouldn't. "You're right. But maybe because I just met her, I can be more objective than you. Maybe I can see the situation from Deedee's point of view."

  "And what's that?" he asked gruffly.

  "What did you tell her when she went to live at the group home?"

  He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering. "I told her I wouldn't think about her any less now that she wasn't living with me, that I loved her, that in the group home she could learn to do things that other adults did by taking more responsibility for herself, by making friends, by trying things she'd never tried before."

  "So a year later she takes turns making meals, she has a job, she's made friends, and now she wants to go camping with those friends. It seems to me she's doing exactly what you wanted her to do," Kit pointed out.

  His green glare bored into her. "The people who take care of Deedee at the home understand her capabilities, her fears, her strengths and her weaknesses. I never would have trusted them with her care otherwise."

  "And now maybe it's time to trust her and what she's learned."

  He was silent a moment, then said firmly, "You don't understand."

  "Oh, I think I do. You don't want to let go."

  "That's your opinion," he snapped, shifting away, removing his hand from the seat, removing himself from her.

  "Yes, it is," she returned softly. Grey's posture was rigid, his hands gripping the top of the steering wheel. She knew they wouldn't enjoy any more of the day together, not with this between them. But her heart pushed her to ask, "Do you want to come in?"

  He looked at her then, his eyes hard, shuttering his thoughts from her. "I have yard work to do. The grass is getting high."

  "Sure." She sighed and slid toward the door. He made no move to stop her.

  Kit walked to her front door, wondering who would make the next move, which of them would have the courage to try.

  ***

  Monday after work, Kit lifted her mail from the black box on her porch. She no longer dreaded opening it. There were letters mixed in with the usual expenses, not the monumental bills she'd received month after month as she whittled down charges Trent had run up. A light blue envelope peeked up at her from behind a post card which reminded her of a dental appointment.

  Calling a hello to Byron and Keats who were stretched out on her bed, Kit went to her answering machine, hoping to find a message from Grey. But he hadn't called her cell, at work or here. The red light wasn't blinking and her heart fell. Later in the week she had to go to the store to set up the posters for the promotional day. She also had to get his okay on ads as well as unveil the website. Sure, sh
e could do it all in emails. She could take care of business without a personal word, but she'd prefer the personal words. She'd prefer not having a disagreement between them.

  With a sigh she opened the back door and pulled out a chair at her kitchen table. Flipping through the mail, her fingers froze when she recognized the handwriting on the blue envelope.

  Trent.

  Why would he write to her?

  Anger at what she'd let him do to her life made her movements jerky as she lay down the rest of the pile and tore open the blue one. Her fingers shook as she read:

  My Dearest Kit,

  I'm sure you're wondering why I'm getting in touch with you now after all this time. Over the months I've been here, I've thought about you every day. I know you won't believe it, but you were the love of my life. The other women... Well, there is no excuse for my infidelity to you. I guess my way of life was too ingrained for me to change, even for a wonderful woman like you. But I am changing now—I have no choice. Prison has a way of making one look at one's past, one's motives, one's feelings.

  I still have feelings for you, Kit. I'd like to see you. It is lonely here and I'd like you to visit. If you did, we could discuss repayment of the debts I left with you. I'm thinking about writing a book about my life. Maybe a movie producer would be interested...or a talk show.

  All that aside, I've put your name on my visitor's list and I would like to see you. Please think about it seriously.

  Trent

  Kit flopped down the letter, picked it up and read it again, then tore it in half. The unmitigated gall of the man!

  He didn't honestly think she'd drive five hours...

  Yes, he did. That was Trent.

  Men. She didn't need any of them.

  Then she thought about Grey...and sighed.

  ***

  Grey didn't smile when she walked into the store, so she squared her shoulders and thought "business." But that was difficult when his gaze trailed down her Aztec patterned, short-sleeved sheath, quickly lifted to her sterling triangle earrings, then fastened on her lips. She'd left the jacket to her dress in her car. It was a good thing because despite the store's air conditioning, the temperature felt as hot as the heat outside.

  She lifted her chin but Grey's eyes followed her lips. Finally, he broke the spell by stepping out from behind the service desk. "Gus will take over here. We can go back to the office."

  "This won't take long," she said in her best businesslike tone.

  He frowned and motioned her to precede him down the aisle.

  Once inside his office, she kept her distance, made sure their hands didn't touch when she handed him the ads, set up her laptop and the website, then stayed in front of the desk while he walked behind it and lowered himself into the swivel chair.

  She waited until he'd looked at it all. When he glanced up at her, she asked, "What do you think?"

  "The website is everything we'll need. The ads are fine. Kit..."

  Swinging her portfolio onto the desk, she unzipped it. "These are the mock-ups of the posters. I can have them day after tomorrow." She pulled the boards out of the case. "If there's anything you want to change, now's the time."

  He didn't look at the boards but picked up a pen on the desk and clicked it open. "I trust your judgment on the posters."

  "But?"

  "But you have to believe I know what's best for my sister."

  "I see. Exactly what does that mean? That I can't give my opinion?"

  He threw the pen on the blotter. "Of course not." Standing, he came around the desk and stood close enough for her to touch. "You can give your opinion. Just don't get upset when I disagree with it."

  "But if we don't agree..."

  "What?"

  "How can we disagree and still be...close?"

  He stroked her cheek and held her chin in his palm. "Disagreement doesn't have to mean distance. Not if we respect each other."

  Kit remembered the arguments between her mother and father. Her father was louder, more forceful—he always won. Each argument seemed to put more distance between them until her mother did anything she had to do to avoid an argument. Kit didn't believe in peace at all costs. She knew she could never surrender her will, her thoughts, her beliefs to another person. Grey was saying she didn't have to. Was he right?

  Studying him, the hair drifting over his brow, the lines around his eyes that grew deeper when he smiled or frowned, the strong line of his jaw, she knew she wanted to believe him.

  He played his thumb across her cheekbone. "What's wrong?"

  "Deedee might be too important a subject not to agree on. You said yourself that your last relationship broke up because of her," Kit responded bluntly.

  "You don't pull any punches, do you?" he asked with a wry grimace.

  "I don't have any illusions."

  He searched her face, then his gaze held hers. "I said I didn't agree with you. But I respect your opinion and I thought about what you said. I'm going to let Deedee go camping. I still don't like the idea. Yet in case you're right, in case this is my problem, not Deedee's, I'm going to let her try it."

  Grey had courage, and strength of character, and everything Kit could ever want in a man. She realized she was falling in love with him. Head over heels. Full dive into quicksand. Heaven help her.

  She mumbled, "You won't be sorry. Deedee will only grow stronger if you give her the freedom she needs."

  "I had a long talk with Tanya, and she agrees with you. I still have my doubts. We'll know after the camping trip."

  Kit brushed his hair tenderly from his forehead. "You're going to worry all weekend, aren't you?"

  He gave her a lazy smile that made her blood run hot and fast. "It depends. You could help distract me."

  "By reviewing strategies for the promotional day?" she asked innocently as she tilted her chin, bringing her face closer to his.

  "I can think of much better ways," he murmured as his lips met hers.

  All Kit's thoughts centered on Grey—his taste, his touch, and the hope that this time the risk of losing her heart was worth taking...because this time she'd found a man worthy of her trust.

  ***

  Kit swiped the sweat from her brow Sunday afternoon as she dug into the warm earth in front of Grey's house. Making the hole larger, she dumped the pot with a combination of buds and blooms of bright yellow mums into her hand and plopped the molded earth into the spot she'd chosen. The mums would give Grey's yard some color for the rest of the summer and bloom again year after year.

  The drone of Grey's mower in the back yard stopped and Kit felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She had something to tell Grey, a decision she'd made. She didn't know why she was nervous about it. After all, it was her decision. But it could start another disagreement, maybe an argument...

  So she'd see if Grey's theory was right—that they could disagree without creating distance. Thinking back on her relationship with Trent, she realized they'd never argued. Why? Because Trent had always seemed to say and do the right thing, the appropriate thing, whatever would please Kit or make her happy. So she thought. Little did she know that behind her back he was manipulating, maneuvering, defrauding.

  With Grey, everything was out front, above-board. She liked that about him. She couldn't be involved with anyone who wasn't honest and forthright. Never again.

  So disagreement or not...

  Grey came around the side of the house. Kit recognized her pulse speeding up, recognized the way every nerve in her body responded to Grey's appearance, his presence in her life.

  His navy tank top molded to his chest and back from the honest sweat of yard work. He'd run his fingers through his hair to swipe it from his brow, leaving it ruffled. His legs were darkly tanned, his cut-offs frayed white against his thighs. She remembered his arms tight around her, his lips —hot and sensual—on hers. Not only her mind remembered; her body remembered. Her breasts ached to push against h
is chest, her fingertips tingled at the thought of stroking his face, heat curled in her womb ready to melt as he touched her. She'd never had such erotic thoughts until she'd met Grey. They were exciting, and surprising, and scary because they grew stronger each time she was with him.

  Turning away from him and taking a gulping breath, she patted the ground around the mum, letting the earth squeeze through her fingers.

  His shadow fell over Kit, shading her from the sun. "They look terrific. It's amazing the difference color makes. The house looks more welcoming."

  "We should plant tulips, crocuses, maybe some daffodils, then in the spring you'll have color, too. It doesn't take long to plant bulbs and..." She lost her voice as well as her train of thought when Grey knelt beside her and covered her hand with his.

  His voice held a husky edge as he asked, "Why don't you wear gloves when you garden?"

  Although his hand on hers made her more aware of his skin texture, his heat, his scent, she managed a smile. "Because I like the feel of the dirt sifting through my fingers. I guess I didn't make enough mud pies as a kid."

  He edged closer and brushed her cheek with his thumb.

  Self-consciously, she swiped at the spot after him. "I guess I wear my pies well."

  "You wear everything well." His gaze roamed to the V of her T-shirt where beads of perspiration had gathered. It was clinging to her like his was. She knew he could see the outline of her bra and maybe even her nipples which now felt hard from Grey's inspection.

  When he reached out to her, Kit's breath caught. He ridged his finger along her neckline, tracing the V, causing shivers to skip up and down her back. "Grey..."

  His touch teased the point above her bra. Slipping his finger under the edge of her shirt, he pulled her to him. Their sun-dewed skin met, their bodies melded together. Grey didn't hesitate to part her lips and dip inside. Kit's hands went to Grey's neck and her thumbs stroked his jaw. He groaned and deepened the kiss, searching for more, asking for more, taking more.

  She gave back the desire, increased it with forays of her own. In the distance, she heard a bee buzz, birds chirping, a car door slam. But the sounds meant nothing, only intensified her awareness of her heartbeat and Grey's. Her nipples rubbed his chest and the damp heat created a delicious friction. Warm earth, fresh-mown grass, Grey's male scent tantalized her nose.

 

‹ Prev