“I do consider myself fairly intelligent.” She chewed carefully now, thinking that last piece might have been a mistake. Her stomach rolled. “Try me.”
“You’re not going to like it.”
Definitely a mistake, that last one had been. She pressed a hand to her grumbling belly. “Why is that?” she managed to ask, thankfully sounding perfectly normal.
His jaw clenched again. “Truth?”
“Preferably.”
“Okay then, I—”
Uh-oh. Her stomach roiled again, violently, and despite desperately wanting to hear what Kent said, she had no choice but to leap up and run for the door, her hand over her mouth.
Not here, oh God, not here. Please don’t let me be sick all over this nice carpeting, in front of the sexiest man she’d ever not wanted to be with.
“Becca, here.” With calm urgency, Kent pulled her out the door.
“Go away,” she said miserably, frantically pushing at him. She’d just had to have that last bite, she just couldn’t resist.
The pain in her stomach doubled her over, grayed her vision.
Kent whipped her around the corner of the building to the alley, by the dumpster.
She didn’t quite make it that far. But at least she didn’t throw up in front of him.
She threw up on him.
SHE WAS SITTING on the salon steps the next morning, wallowing in humiliation, when Summer came bouncing up.
At the sight of her sister’s troubled face, Summer stopped short, carefully popped the bubble she’d been making with her gum and sucked it in her mouth. “Uh-oh.”
“Tell me again why I wanted this makeover?” Becca demanded. “Was it so I could make a fool of myself over and over?”
“I take it you’ve done just that?” Summer jingled her keys until she found the one she needed. Eyeing her sister up and down as she let them in, she said with disgust, “I thought we tossed out all your jeans and T-shirts.”
Becca lifted a shoulder. “Little problem came up. I still had the clothes in my car and last night… Well, let’s just say I just dropped them all off at the dry cleaners.”
They entered the silent, dark saloon. Summer flipped on the lights and music, and immediately the place took on that warm, comfy air that went a long way toward calming Becca’s nerves.
Summer pushed her into one of the chairs. “You can borrow something of mine, soon as I fix that whirlwind hair. What did you do, sleep in a wind tunnel?”
“I didn’t sleep.” Miserable, she groaned. “I was with Kent last night.”
“Cool.”
“I ate too much sushi and threw up on him.”
“Oh.” Summer popped another bubble. “Not exactly romantic.”
“This whole makeover/adventure thing, it’s not really working out for me. I’m thinking of forgetting the whole thing.”
“But you can’t!”
Becca sighed. “I know. All that trouble you went to for your contest.”
Guilt flashed over Summer’s face so quickly Becca decided she must have imagined it. “It has nothing to do with the contest,” she said. “You just looked so great.”
“It was easier being boring. I didn’t get wet or cold or sick. And if I was still that person, I’d know Kent was following me around because he liked me. Me. The old me, not the new me.”
“Are you speaking English at all?”
“Maybe it’s just about my new looks. Maybe I’m dazzling him, you know? I can’t stop wondering about that. If I go back to the old look, I could find out for sure.”
Summer’s hands stilled in her hair. “Okay, say that one more time, I’m starting to follow you, scary as that is to admit.”
Becca sighed, closed her eyes and admitted the truth she hadn’t yet faced herself. “I like him. Too much.”
“Then don’t give up.” Summer squeezed her shoulders gently. “Remember your new lease on life. Go for it. Just stay away from raw fish for God’s sake.”
“You’re right. A few roadblocks and I’m ready to give up. What kind of determination is that? I can do better.”
“Absolutely. There’s all kinds of things you haven’t tried.”
“Are we talking about fun and adventure, or catching a man?”
Summer grinned at her in the mirror. “Both.”
A FEW MINUTES LATER, dressed in borrowed clothes, Becca ran down the stairs of the building, into the glorious, clear day and directly into a hard block wall of a chest.
Kent’s chest.
With a low murmur of concern, he grabbed her, and before she could say a word, gently brought her down the last step, past the cement bench, to the trash can there.
Hanging over it, with Kent’s strong arm around her waist, his other hand holding her head, she could do nothing but stare into the bottom of the can, which had three oozing, rotting bananas in the bottom.
“Why are you out of bed?” he demanded. “Damn, I knew I should have gone home with you last night and stayed. You should have let me.” He stroked her forehead, holding back her hair, and she had to laugh.
“I’m not sick, Kent.”
“You were running, of course you’re sick. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
Man, did he ever. She was held against his warm, strong body and she could have stayed there all day if it hadn’t been for the stomach turning stench of the can. “I’m okay.”
“You’re sure?”
“Unless I have to keep breathing this air down here.”
He pulled back a little, peering into her face with understandable wariness. “You’re not still nauseous?”
She shook her head. “And I was really hoping last night was just a bad dream.”
“So were my shoes.”
Wincing, she said, “I’m so sorry. I’ve never done that before.”
“If it makes you feel any better, sushi doesn’t agree with me, either.”
She smiled and his gaze followed the movements of her lips for one long moment before he let her go. Then he picked up a brown bag he must have dropped on the bench.
She recognized the slogan and her mouth watered in response. “Donuts,” she whispered reverently.
“Got an extra jelly roll in here.” He watched as she opened the bag and dug right in. “So what’s the next…?” When he trailed off, she glanced up, mouth full, hands covered in powered sugar. Embarrassed, she licked her lips and Kent’s eyes glazed over.
She nearly choked when she realized he was getting turned on by watching her eat. The power of it, the sheer delight in being able to render him speechless was amazing. Feeling a bit wicked now, she licked her lips again.
A strangled sort of sound escaped from deep in his throat.
She bit back her grin as renewed hope surged. “What’s the next what?”
He shook his head as if to clear it and looked purposely away from her mouth. “What’s the next adventure?”
You, she almost said. “Something warm with no food.”
“Good. Something safe.”
“Didn’t say that.” She swallowed her last bite and dusted off the sugar. “I was thinking rock climbing.”
“Rock climbing,” he repeated. “You ever been?”
“Nope.”
He groaned. “How did I know you were going to say that? Look Becca, you really have to know what you’re doing for that particular sport.”
“Don’t worry, I’m a quick learner.”
“I thought heights disagreed with you. Remember parasailing?”
“It was the cold water that disagreed with me.”
He stared at her, then sighed. “All right, fine. Be stubborn, that’s nothing new. Rock climbing. I’ll pick you up at six. We’ll go to The Wall at Squaw Valley.”
“You know how to rock climb?”
He looked grumpy. “Just said so, didn’t I?”
“Actually, no you didn’t.”
“Yeah, I know what I’m doing. Good thing too, because someone has to follow you around
and make sure you don’t kill yourself.”
Is that all he was doing? “I’ll be fine,” she said stiffly. “I don’t need a keeper.”
“It’s not for you, it’s for me.” He looked mightily unhappy. “I won’t be able to sleep unless I know you didn’t hurt yourself.”
“Well gee, when you put it that way. Oh, please come.”
“Six o’clock,” he repeated. “Dinner afterward.”
Her heart stopped. “Dinner. As in…a date?”
“You wanted adventure.” His dark eyes were clear, full of an intriguing mix of annoyance and temper. “Unless you got it all out of your system?”
The way he was looking at her made her legs quiver. “Oh no, not yet.”
“No Dennis this time, and definitely I pick the restaurant.”
A date with Kent. It was her greatest fantasy. Okay, not quite her greatest—her greatest involved him and her, silk sheets and a moonlit bedroom, but this was close enough.
Suddenly he reached out and cupped her face. The touch startled her, warmed her. Aroused her. His thumb slid over her lower lip, arousing her all the more. “Powdered sugar,” he whispered. “You still have a speck…right here.”
Long after it must have been gone, his thumb played over the most sensitive part of her mouth. Back and forth until she parted her lips and his eyes darkened even more. “You’re touching me. Thought that was a no-no.”
“It was. Is.” But he still did it.
Before she could stop herself, her tongue darted out and touched his finger, drawing it into her mouth.
A half growl, half moan came from deep within his throat. Her knees threatened to give at the erotically shattering sound.
“Tonight, then.” His voice was deep and sexy.
“Yes.” And as he walked away, she had the feeling her next adventure had already begun.
6
WORK WAS BECCA’S SALVATION that day, it kept her mind busy. She sat talking with Dennis, going over some of their latest samples, correlating some of their findings.
Or at least she was correlating, Dennis was teasing.
He slid a finger up her arm, bared by another one of her new shirt dresses. “Come on, one more night,” he coaxed. “Give me just one more night and I swear, I’ll ruin you for all other men.”
Because she knew he was just kidding, she shot him a sultry smile. “But then I’ll ruin you for all other women, too, and then what would you do?”
He laughed and they bent over their work once again. “I had a great time with you the other night,” he said after a moment. “I just wanted you to know that.”
His pretty blue eyes were genuine, and for once he wasn’t crowding into her space, flirting. “I had fun, too,” she said.
“Before or after you danced with Kent?”
She opened her mouth, but had to close it again.
“It was hard to miss those sparks flying between the two of you. Real hard.”
She busied her hands. Dennis stilled them by setting his bigger one over hers. “You’re looking pretty amazing, Bec. If good old Kent keeps getting hives over the thought of a relationship, let me know. I betcha I could get it right.”
He probably could. And maybe a few days ago she might have let him try. But suddenly her heart wasn’t in any sort of casual relationship adventure. No, she wanted more.
She wanted it all.
THIS IS STUPID. Kent told himself over and over again as he showered, dressed and drove to pick up Becca. A date. With a woman he not only worked with, but one who was his friend. It was trouble with a capital T, no matter how he looked at it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
But then her door opened and Becca was standing there, smiling at him, such an absolute vision she took his breath. She wore a long floral dress, with a row of tiny, delicate buttons down the front that begged a man to go after them one at a time. The lace bodice scooped low enough to show off rich, warm looking curves and the skirt flared gently over her slim hips.
He thought he might never get used to seeing her, really seeing her. But it wasn’t the outfit that stunned him, or even her glorious body.
It was her eyes, and the way they sparkled with excitement, fear, nerves…everything he was feeling. Warning signals went off in his head, blaring, honking, tooting. Beware. Attachment alert!
You’re falling, your parachute has failed and there’s no back-up equipment.
Vacate the premises immediately.
No. No, he was fine. All he had to do was remind them both, right this second, that this was just fun. No future. No commitment. Just fun.
Yeah, that’s all he had to do. He took the last step, until he stood in the doorway with her, gripping the jamb with either hand, a mere inch separating their bodies.
Say it.
Oh, man. Her eyes were huge and full of mysteries, and he had this strange, burning desire to know each of them.
And just when he needed it the most, the panicking little voice inside his head went silent.
When her breath caught at their closeness, his blood surged with heat, but it was the tenderness and affection that floored him.
It felt right to run his hands up her arms, over her shoulders, to her throat, until he cupped that now serious face in his palms.
And it felt even more right to smile down at her and gently, lightly, glide his mouth over hers. Again.
Then again.
When he pulled back, her eyelids fluttered open and she drew a deep, unsteady breath. “What was that for?” she whispered.
He hadn’t an earthly clue. He couldn’t even remember the thought process he’d used to go from reminding her they were just friends to kissing her. His mind was mush, complete mush.
There should be some sort of back-up process for when this happened. After all, he couldn’t be the only man on earth to lose all the blood in his brain over one little embrace. “It was our goodnight kiss,” he improvised.
“We haven’t gone out yet.”
“Oh yeah.” He cleared his throat. “We’d better hurry then.”
“Well,” was all she said. She gripped her hands together and smiled shyly, but there was a good amount of mischief in that smile as well. “So you were only planning on giving me one goodnight kiss?”
His pulse leaped. “I didn’t want to seem too forward.”
“Not at all,’ she whispered, her lips parting as he slid his fingers in her hair to better angle her head for another kiss. “And if you wanted to give me another one, too…you know, while you’re at it, I wouldn’t mind.”
They were laughing when their mouths connected again, and Kent had time to think that he’d never felt like laughing and kissing at the same time before, that it was the most lovely, joyful feeling in the world, but then he couldn’t think at all because the touch of her, the taste of her, closed off his brain to everything but sensation.
Immediately their sizzling connection spiraled out of control. There were other sensations; the sounds of the street behind him, the wind rippling the pines, the soft music playing from inside her condo, but it all faded away. Everything was gone except for this woman in his arms.
She felt it too, he could hear it in her sigh of shock, surprise, need. It was the last that made him groan and pull her closer, deepening the kiss because he had to have more, just a little more.
She gave it. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed tight and opened to him. More sensations burst in his head, white-hot passion and an unquenchable desire.
He turned and pressed her against the door, holding her body captive, only it wasn’t necessary, she was willing and able and making small, needy little murmurs in her throat as she tried to get even closer to him.
This had never happened, came his vague thought. Never. In another two seconds, they were going to be clawing at their clothes, dropping each other to the floor to ravish, and…
“Holy smoke.”
At the sound of Summer’s voice, Becca jerked and moved back, but it took K
ent longer to blink himself into awareness and remove his arms from around her.
She stood behind them, in Becca’s condo, her mouth open, her eyes wide. “Wow. Just wow.” She was tall, willowy and stunning. Her long blond hair was perfectly groomed, not a one out of place. She wore a snug, short black dress, thigh-high boots and looked so glossy and finished, Kent could easily imagine her walking down any model runway in the world.
By contrast, he was standing there with his shirt untucked and half-unbuttoned—when had that happened? He supposed he should consider himself lucky his pants were fastened over an uncomfortably hard erection.
Her very red lips smiled as if she could read his mind.
“I thought you were gone already,” Becca said shakily, running a hand through her hair. Her lips were wet and swollen. Her lipstick was long gone, he’d chewed it off and could still taste the strawberry flavor.
“Nope,” Summer said, grinning.
Becca let out a long breath and looked down at herself as if checking to make sure she was all together. “We were just…”
“Yes, I can see that.” Summer laughed when Becca blushed. “I was getting hot just watching the two of you go at it.” She eyed them both. “You ought to think about taking it inside next time. Like to a bedroom.”
“My sister thinks she’s amusing,” Becca said, throwing Summer a warning look.
Summer ignored it and turned to Kent. “What do you think of Becca’s new look?”
Becca shifted uncomfortably. “Summer—”
“I think she looks nice.”
“Nice.” Summer nodded. “Well, there’s a word, huh? Quite the description. Every little thing about her is completely different. Her hair, her makeup, her clothes, everything.”
“Not everything is different,” he said, turning to look into Becca’s carefully made up face, sans lipstick. She seemed a bit wan suddenly. Stressed. “You still have the same insides, don’t you?” he asked.
She only stared at him.
“You know, guts and blood and stuff,” he clarified.
Unexpectedly, she laughed. “Yes, I do.”
“And your heart,” he added, though he didn’t know why, he just wanted her to keep smiling at him like that, like he was the best thing since sliced bread. “Your heart is the same.”
New and…Improved? & Andrew in Excess Page 5