Bare Essentials

by Leslie Kelly Jill Shalvis

  She flipped off the vibrator. “Sure.” After tightening the towel around her chest, she slid off the counter. “Look, maybe I wasn’t playing nicely. Maybe I was being unfair, trying to pay you back a little for not calling.”

  “I figured as much. And I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t try to explain. Made no effort to tell her what had happened, what had changed between that night in the theater and two days later when he hadn’t called her.

  She couldn’t ask him, of course. She instead relied on false bravado. “It really doesn’t matter. I got what I wanted. A little payback.” She glanced down at his body, making them both fully aware of his need for her. Then she smiled seductively.

  “You go back to bed. Alone.” Stepping closer to walk around him and out the door, she continued. “While I go back to bed, too. With the mental image of a shirtless Hugh Jackman.” Holding up her hand, she glanced at the vibrator.

  “And this.”

  7

  JACK SLEPT LATE the next morning. That wasn’t a big surprise since he’d lain awake in her bed until at least 5:00 a.m., wondering what she was doing. If she was touching herself. If she ached, the way he did. He’d listened for hours, torturing himself, waiting to see if she’d cry out when she came, as she had the night in the theater.

  He wasn’t sure if he ever heard her cry out, or if he just imagined the cries of ecstasy throughout the long night hours.

  Enough of that.

  Rising, he pulled on some jeans, then walked down the short hallway to the master bedroom. Though the door was partially open, he knocked quietly in case she was still asleep. When there was no answer, he glanced in and saw the stripped bed.

  Kate hadn’t slept in her mother’s old room.

  Curious, he went downstairs and saw the pile of folded linens and a pillow on the living room sofa. Hearing a voice through the thin wall, he stepped out onto the patio and walked over to the open door of the adjoining duplex.

  Kate was inside, talking on a cell phone, sounding more than a little irritated. “Look, the power was supposed to be turned on yesterday. I have my confirmation numbers, you already charged my credit card, so why am I sitting in the dark, sweaty, and unable to take a shower this morning?”

  He couldn’t imagine how she could be dirty after the endless shower she’d taken the night before. She looked fresh and chipper, dressed in tight jean shorts and another of those flimsy, sleeveless tank tops. Red and wicked, it hugged her curves and made his heart skip a beat. There’d obviously been no sleepless night for her. She’d probably slept like a baby with her play toy clipped to her finger, her hand curled in her lap.

  “Yes, I know it’s a Saturday,” she continued. “But please try to get someone out here this morning.”

  Jack would be willing to pay any after-hour fees the company might charge if it meant getting her into her own place by that night. No way could he take another night like the previous one.

  “Problems?”

  She almost dropped the phone when she heard his voice. “Hi. Yes, problems. The power company’s as efficient as ever around here. They lost the work order to get the electricity back on for me before yesterday.”

  Without waiting for an invitation, he entered the living room of the small house. It was a mirror image of the one next door, though it held not a stick of furniture. “You never did tell me why you’re here, anyway. I had the impression visiting Pleasantville isn’t your favorite thing to do.”

  “I suppose it’s better than being buried up to my neck in a red ant nest,” she muttered.

  He chuckled. “So why’re you here?”

  “Business.”

  Interesting, given her line of work. “Your kind of business?”

  “The private kind.”

  “Okay,” he said with a shrug. “Is this business going to keep you in town long?”

  “A few weeks at least.”

  Weeks. Damn. He’d really hoped she was making a quick trip. If she stayed, he’d be in for lots of long, sleepless nights. Even worse, it would be nearly impossible for her to avoid hearing the gossip about Edie and his father.

  Jack suddenly found himself willing to do just about anything to prevent that. As sorry as he felt for Edie, he knew she’d made her choices. She’d dealt with them in her own way.

  Kate hadn’t chosen to be the target of gossip, scorn and spite from this town. Yet that was about all she’d gotten here as a kid. And, he feared, about all she’d find here now.

  If his sister Angela’s comments were anything to go on, Kate and her cousin hadn’t had the best time in high school. Kate hadn’t let that stop her in the least. She’d gotten out, made a life for herself, created a new world where she had the power, the money and the upper hand.

  Much as he had done.

  No wonder he liked her so much. After all, in spite of their dissimilar childhoods, they had a lot in common. Hadn’t they each been put into a mold by this town, and done whatever they could to break out of it? They’d both left after high school—her opening a sex shop and him focusing on career and casual relationships with a lot of different women. And they’d both come back, still wanting to rebel and shock, until they’d found each other and fallen headfirst into a hot kiss on a public street. Not to mention what had happened in the theater.

  “Do you want something to eat?” he finally asked, figuring she couldn’t possibly have any groceries in the house.

  “I already had a donut and a warm diet Coke, thanks.”

  “How nutritious.”

  “It’s not exactly the breakfast of champions, but it will do.”

  Glancing toward the floor, she bent to get something out of her purse. Jack tried not to notice the way her shorts hugged her ass, the way they rode up on her thighs until he could see the hem of her panties.

  Well, no, he didn’t really try not to look. He just tried not to let it affect him. Which was impossible.

  After grabbing a brush, she straightened and gathered her hair into a ponytail at the back of her neck. Her shirt pulled tighter against her curves as she lifted her arms. Jack again wished he’d stayed in bed, avoiding her for the day.

  “Did you sleep okay? I noticed you stayed downstairs on the couch. You could have used your mom’s room.”

  She looked away, busying her hands putting the brush back into her purse. “The couch was fine.”

  “Sure there was enough room for all three of you?”

  “Three of us?”

  “You know. You, Hugh and your little friend?” he asked, wondering what demon made him bring the subject back to what had happened last night when they’d parted.

  She laughed softly.

  “So what is it with Hugh Jackman? A mouth, like Connery? Dangerous glint in his eye, like Eastwood? Or that schmaltzy chick-flick-time-travel with him and Meg Ryan?”

  She shook her head, licking her lips. “Wolverine in X-Men. I just love a lean-looking man who can kick ass.” She shrugged, obviously being honest and not trying to torment him sexually as she had the night before. “What can I say? I like men who can move their bodies gracefully while being seriously dangerous.”

  If he were going to pursue a sexual relationship with her—which he absolutely was not, not yet anyway—he’d have contemplated inviting her to one of his Tae Kwon Do classes, which he taught three nights a week. Instead he changed the subject. “So, are you planning to sleep on the floor for weeks?”

  She glanced around the empty room. “Some of my aunt’s old furniture is stored in the garage of her new place. My cousin, Cassie, is going to help me load some up and bring it here.”

  “Cousin? Your cousin’s back in town, too?”

  She shot him a look from half-lowered lashes. “She’s been here in town for several weeks already. Do you know her?”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t remember her at all. But I know the two of you lived here, in these houses. Is she going to stay here with you?”

  “No. Her mom owns
some other property around here. Cassie’s staying at Aunt Flo’s other place up on Lilac Hill.”

  Jack raised a questioning brow.

  “Aunt Flo had a lot of admirers in this town. Male admirers. A couple of them liked to give her presents.”

  He understood. “Someone gave her a house on Lilac Hill?” At her nod, he whistled. “Some present. Who was it?”

  “Mr. Miller, the banker.”

  A grin tickled the corners of Jack’s lips. “He was old as dirt when I was born.”

  “Flo’s not age discriminatory.”

  “He was a widower with no family for as long as I can remember.” Jack thought about it. “I’m glad your aunt gave him a little bit of happiness. He was a nice old guy. You know he lived only two doors down from us.”

  Her chuckle was decidedly wicked. “There goes the neighborhood.”

  Knowing how his mother and sister felt about the Tremaine family, he had to wonder why he hadn’t heard anything about this latest insult upon the glory that was Winfield.

  “So, Cassie stays on the hill and you’re staying here.”

  “Right. Is there a problem?”

  “I’m wondering why you’re not staying there with her.”

  “Let’s just say the snob set’s not exactly my cup of tea.”

  “But they are your cousin’s?”

  Kate shrugged. “Cassie fits in anywhere. She’s very successful. You’ll probably recognize her when you see her.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s a lingerie model. Poses in sexy underclothes for catalogs that pretend they’re for women, but which men swipe from their wives and hide in the bathroom to look at.”

  He shrugged. “And you’re a super successful store owner who makes front-page news. Sounds like both of you got away from here and made good.” He glanced around the room. “I’m sure you have more expensive tastes these days, too.”

  “This is fine for me.” She raised a hand, gesturing to the small room. “Part of Cassie’s reason for staying up there was out of her innate need to be as outrageous as possible.”

  “I somehow think your cousin hasn’t cornered the market on being outrageous in your family.”

  Rolling her eyes, she sat on the floor, draping her arms on her upraised knees. “No, I’m the smart, quiet, sweet one.” She sounded thoroughly disgusted.

  He couldn’t help it—he let out a loud bark of laughter. Her glare told him she didn’t appreciate his amusement.

  “Honey, I can think of a lot of words to describe you, but something as insipid as sweet definitely isn’t on the list.”

  She frowned at him. “You’re saying I’m not sweet?”

  “No, you’re definitely not sweet, Kate.” Stepping across the room, he bent to sit directly in front of her. “Smart, yes. Quiet—well, only in the way that smart people are because they’re always thinking. Deciding their course of action before they act on it. Like you did at the theater.”

  Her jaw tightened. “Get back to the part where you tell me why I’m not a nice person.”

  He wagged an index finger at her. “Uh-uh, I didn’t say you’re not a nice person. You’re a fascinating, charming, nice woman, Kate. But not anything as simple as sweet. There are such depths to you….” He stared intently at her face, losing himself again in those dark brown eyes, wondering what was going on in that beautiful mind of hers. “I’d like to know what makes you tick,” he admitted softly.

  Color rose in her cheeks and her lips parted. He’d gone too far, treaded back into personal, intimate territory. He backpedaled. “So, tell me, why do you think you’re sweet and quiet?”

  “Because my family has told me I am for twenty-eight years.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Cassie was the wild, tempestuous child. I was the sweet, good girl. The little ballerina, the straight-A student.”

  “I imagine you got quite a reaction with your store.”

  “My mother left during the grand opening reception. Never came back again until after I started sending her copies of my bank statements.” She paused. “Of course, my aunt Flo sent a huge bouquet of orchids and told me she never thought I had a wicked streak in me. I guess they thought Cassie and I were destined to be exact replicas of them. They expected it even before we were ever born.”

  Knowing how difficult it was to break out of the position in which every family tried to paint its members, he nodded in agreement. “I would be willing to bet Cassie is not nearly as wild as she’s said to be.” He leaned closer to her. “And I know you’re not exactly a good girl.”

  “Really?” She looked at him so hopefully he almost laughed. He didn’t, though, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

  “No, I don’t think good girls own sex shops or carry tiny vibrators around in their purses. Nor do they often go for it when offered the chance to do something as wildly impulsive as what we did at the theater.”

  He waited for her to look away, to break the stare, but she didn’t. Her eyes looked softer, dreamier, as her lips parted. A tiny sigh preceded her reply. “Thank you.”

  “For?”

  “For seeing the Kate I see…not the one everyone else sees. For letting me be myself, not who everyone thinks I am.” She paused. “Even if who I am is sometimes a not-so-nice, not-so-sweet person.”

  Jack leaned close and pressed a kiss to her temple, then brushed her hair away. He saw her pulse ticking in her throat as she looked up at him. “Sweet is boring, Kate,” he whispered. “I much prefer spicy…even if I know I’m going to get burned.”

  Her moist lips parted and she tilted her head back as she took in a deep breath. He’d never seen a more clear invitation to go further. Kissing her temple wasn’t enough for either of them. He had to taste her, just once more, or else he’d go crazy wondering if her mouth was as soft as he remembered. He leaned closer, brushing his lips across her temple again, then her cheek, and her jaw. She sighed, but didn’t pull away.

  “I take it back, Kate,” he murmured as he moved lower, to kiss her earlobe and the side of her neck. “You taste very sweet.” Then, unable to resist, he moved his mouth to hers. Their lips met and parted as instinctively as the beating of a heart. He licked lazily at her tongue, dipping his own into her mouth to taste her more thoroughly. She kissed him back, curling against him, tilting her head, inviting him deeper.

  When they finally pulled apart, neither spoke for a moment. Then she narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you do that again.”

  Her shaky voice held a warning and a challenge. He wondered if, as usual, she was trying to scare him into backing off. He mentally tsked. Obviously she didn’t remember what had happened when she’d tried that at the Rialto.

  Finally, Jack smiled. “Yeah, there’s definitely both sweet and spicy to you, Kate Jones. I can’t decide which side I like better.”

  Before she could reply, he got up and left the duplex.

  * * *

  WHEN KATE ARRIVED at Cassie’s house up on the hill that afternoon, her cousin greeted her with a big hug and a humongous margarita. “A pea-green drink in honor of your return to Pea-Ville.” Cassie held up her salt-rimmed glass to clink a toast.

  Kate clinked back, then sipped deeply. The electric company still hadn’t gotten her power on by the time she’d left the house, and the drink went down like a powerful blast of air-conditioning. Besides, she’d been all hot and bothered ever since Jack had kissed her then walked out. “Ah, perfect. I’d forgotten how hot it is here in the pits of hell in the summer.”

  “I guess I’m getting used to it.”

  Hearing an unexpected note of warmth in Cassie’s voice, Kate raised a brow. “The heat? Or the town?”

  Cassie shrugged. “Maybe a little of both.”

  “Well, I can see you don’t have a scarlet letter on your shirt, so maybe things aren’t as bad as I’d expected.”

  “Believe it or not, I haven’t heard one person call me a tramp since I got here.” She winked. “At least not to my face.”

 
Her cousin led Kate into the house, then gave her a quick tour, including a stop in Flo’s outrageously decorated boudoir.

  Going back downstairs, they sat in the kitchen, drinking their margaritas and gabbing for an hour. Kate didn’t like the tired, dark circles under Cassie’s eyes—though, they certainly didn’t distract from her beauty. Since Cassie never brought up the trouble she was in, trouble that involved an over-amorous man who hadn’t taken her rejection too well, Kate didn’t, either. There would be time enough to talk about it, and to give Cassie her mail, which had been forwarded to Kate in Chicago while Cassie hid out. Kate wanted to put off handing over the dozen or more letters. “So the store’s really coming along okay?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve got a couple of high school boys who’ve helped with the painting and repairs. The shelving units and cabinetry were already there from when the men’s shop was open. Carpet goes in Monday, and the stock you sent arrives daily.”

  “Well, I’m here now to help with the inventory, at least, now that you did the hard stuff. The permit was approved, right? I still don’t know how you pulled it off.”

  Cassie gave her an evil smile. “It’s called boobs. A low-cut shirt and a pair of breasts leaning on the desk of a city worker’s office can accomplish a lot. Including rubber-stamping an application for a business license.”

  “Boobs and brains. Cassie Tremaine Montgomery, you’re a force to be reckoned with.” Kate sipped her drink.

  “It’s only fair I got the bigger boobs, since you got the bigger brain,” Cassie pointed out.

  Kate sighed. “But we both got the big hips.”

  Cassie gave her a Cheshire-cat smile. “Most men who look at my pictures in the catalog like curvy hips.”

  Kate agreed. “I’ll bet the permit guy is a fan.”

  “Even if he’s not, I didn’t lie on the business app. We are going to open a lovely, tasteful little ladies’ shop….”

  “With King Kong Dong featured prominently in the front display window,” Kate interjected with a snorty laugh.

  They clinked their glasses again.