by Dawn Atkins
She forced herself to stay strong. He had to give Deborah of the overtweezed eyebrows a fair chance. She was what he wanted. Kylie was clinging to him out of selfishness, scared of her future. Which was totally unfair to Cole.
“Oh, yeah. I’m totally jazzed.” Totally? Jazzed? She sounded like a cheerleader. “They truly are on the cutting edge. And they loved my presentation.”
“How could they not? Your stuff is great. Creative and fresh and strong… You underestimate your talent, Kylie, but they won’t. Or they better not or they’ll have me to answer to.”
She held up her hand, smiling at his encouragement, soaking it in like lotion on chapped skin. “Enough. You’re overdoing it.” How did he know she needed this boost for the courage to leave? “I am nervous, though. I feel like I’m jumping into the ocean from the kiddie pool.”
“Nah. You belong with the big PR sharks.”
She loved hearing that from him. Cole got it. He got her. Knew how she ticked. Her usual men found her ambition either mystifying or annoying. And she’d never felt safe enough to share her doubts with them.
Cole’s praise was honest, if overstated. Coming from a man who knew professional competence it was balm to her jittery self-esteem. In short, she believed him. She made a mental note to expect that from the man she settled down with. Eventually. In that nebulous swirl of a future life of hers.
“Your confidence in me means a lot,” she said. “It helps.”
“You don’t need me for that, Kylie,” he said seriously, as if this was a vital point. “You’ve earned what you’ve been offered. S-Mickey-B is stealing you away.” From me? Is that what he was telling her?
He moved closer, keeping his arms at his sides like a soldier with a grim duty to perform.
“I missed you,” he blurted finally, as if the words were ripped from his throat. His dark eyes flared and she fought the desire to melt into his arms.
“Oh, I missed you, too.” She couldn’t risk a closer step. Not if she expected to walk away. She stayed rooted in place, swaying in the hot breeze of what they wanted from each other, but didn’t dare take. They couldn’t give in. They had to end this now. They both spoke at once.
“We should stop—”
“We have to quit—”
“Sorry,” she said, “You go ahead.”
“We should stop seeing each other.”
“My exact thought,” she said, half relieved, half sad, that he knew it, too. “Being with you has been, well, wonderful. The sex, of course, and…other things.”
“For me, too, Kylie. It’s been…”
“Wild,” she added quickly, afraid he’d say something touching and she’d get all emotional and not be able to bear the pain swelling in her, reaching up like a bruised balloon into her throat. “I embarrassed you at your office, for God’s sake. Got us both behind on our work, took us off course. Waaay off course. Distracted you…”
From Deborah. Jealousy burned in Kylie’s veins at that thought, startling her. That woman better appreciate what she was about to get.
“We did it together. All the way.”
“And had so much fun doing it.” Kylie was trying to stay light, but her voice quavered.
“All that exercise.” His voice shook, too, and the joke seemed so lame. “That sense of well-being.”
“Right.” The words echoed over their heads, even though the ceiling wasn’t high. There was so much they weren’t saying, but what was the point? She couldn’t change anything. Even though she felt as if she was giving something up that she really, really wanted. No, needed.
Had to have to be all right in the world.
Stop it. Stop it.
They stared at each other. The silence swelled and beat the air like a pulse or a drum.
“I should go,” she said.
He nodded. Then his eyes lit with a new idea. “But wait. Did they feed you on the plane? Are you hungry?”
“Starving! It was just crackers. Stale ones. Can you believe how little sustenance they give you these days?” What are you doing? Are you crazy? Get out now.
“How about Mexican?” he said. “This is a special occasion, right?”
“Our last lard together?” Jeez, there were tears in her eyes. Over animal fat. She should run, not walk, this instant, but instead, she said, “Sure,” and followed him to the kitchen, where he grabbed his very own copy of her favorite take-out menu. Now it was their place.
She looked over his shoulder at the choices, distracted by the sight of his fingers sliding down the columns, remembering them sliding over her skin, finding her softest spot and not moving until she was gasping and twitching in ecstasy.
“Remember that first order?” He caught her eye.
“Every second of every minute,” she whispered.
He stilled, the phone at his ear, dial tone sounding in the air between them, his breathing as ragged as hers. She’d bet his heart was pounding out a rib just as hers was doing.
“Then we ate in the bathtub. And made love.”
“Splashing the leftovers to mush.”
“But the sopaipillas were in the kitchen. For later.”
“With the honey.”
“Yeah. The honey.”
She could hardly contain herself. She itched for him, ached for him. They were inches apart. All she had to do was lean a little closer.
“Do you know what you want?” Cole asked, unconsciously licking his lips, his pupils flaring. He meant from the restaurant, of course, but she was too far gone to care.
“Absolutely.” She grabbed him.
He let go of the phone and grabbed back. They kissed deeply, sweeping tongues, massaging lips, then shifting to kiss cheeks, ears, necks, smearing their mouths everywhere, wanting it all, not getting enough. They squeezed forearms, rubbed pelvises, pressed bodies, struggling for balance, banging into the wall, then the counter, finally knocking over a stool.
“What are we doing?” Cole gasped, looking at her, eyes glazed.
She didn’t want to figure it out. She just wanted to put out this heat, feed this hunger. “Having one last time?” she gasped. “It’s…a…special…”
“Occasion?” he breathed, yanking at her jacket. This time the button didn’t fly off—darn that dry cleaner.
She had to unbutton it, frantic, then dropped the jacket at her feet. She went at his belt, unlatching it.
“We might as well order some food, huh?” he said, undoing her blouse.
“That would be efficient.” She bent and retrieved the fallen phone and while Cole placed the order, she stripped him of his clothes and took hers off, too. He fumbled the order, watching, taking in her body with greed and delight. I’ll have that…mmm, and that… Oooh, that, too. I want it all.
Finally, he thanked the clerk and hung up the phone. “Come here, you.” He yanked her to him, then swept her up into his arms, naked against his bare chest. His erection brushed her stomach as he moved. She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his dear face, feeling secure in his arms. I could rest here. I could breathe. It was so delicious and so right.
Radar trotted behind them, her bra strap between his teeth. Oh, she would miss this.
Cole settled her on cool sheets—the new ones he’d bought for her—and climbed into bed beside her, twining his legs with hers. Now that they’d decided to make love, time slowed.
She ran her fingers across his chest, studying his nipples, the swelling and ripple of muscle, the swirl of hair, brown and gold, committing every delicious inch of him to memory.
He ran his finger over the tops of her breasts, one after the other, delicately, tickling her, his eyes intent on his finger’s journey. “I’ll always remember this.”
“Good.” Even when he started with Deborah? Kylie closed her eyes against the jealousy that throbbed through her like a toothache. Would Deborah be good in bed? Better than Kylie? More in synch with Cole? That wasn’t possible. And did the woman even like comedy?
�
��This has been good for me,” Cole was saying, drawing her back to the delicious moment. “You’ve been good for me.”
“When I wasn’t getting you in trouble, you mean.”
“You’ve got me thinking about taking it easier. There’s more to life than work.”
“I have been a bad influence on you.”
“You’ve been a kindred spirit. You’ve made me see myself differently. You’ve made me feel…better.” He seemed to want to say more, but stopped himself. “I hope when you get to L.A. you won’t push yourself so hard you don’t have any fun.”
“Not to worry. I always make time for Comedy Central.”
“Plant a garden, though. Right away. Go out for drinks with your colleagues. Find a man. Ouch.” He grimaced. “Forget that. I don’t want to think of you with anyone else. Is that bad?”
“No. I know how you feel.” Kylie swallowed a knot the size of a golf ball in her throat. Forget Deborah. At least get the woman an eyebrow pencil and some Valium. Oh, hell. Forget her. Be with me.
Fearing she’d blurt those very words, she shifted to pull Cole over her, and wrapped her legs across his back.
“Mmm,” he said, instantly getting the idea. In seconds, he slid inside, smooth and easy, with a groan of rich pleasure. Like he was finally home after a long, long trip.
She lifted her hips to get all of him inside her. They rocked together, smooth and sweet, holding each other’s gazes as they climbed the familiar peak, their bodies knowing every move, every nuance of reaction. They stared at each other freely, filling up, fixing in their minds the way they were together. Did it get any better than this? Could it?
Maybe it was because of their sexual connection, or because it was the last time, but each stroke felt more familiar and more right, as if Cole belonged inside her. Always.
An odd light came into his eyes as his pace quickened. An odd light she recognized. Don’t go. Never go.
If they both felt that way…
But then her orgasm caught her sharply and she buried her face in Cole’s neck.
“What am I going to do without you?” Cole whispered and pulsed into her.
“I don’t know.” She nearly cried the words, and blinked back the water in her eyes. She looked into his face. It could be so easy with him. I could just be.
No work, no struggle, no worry. Feel whatever I feel. Not hurry past, not move on. Just be myself. Be here.
But there was something scary about that. A big, deep hole of expectation and need. What if it wasn’t enough? What if things changed? What if it didn’t work? Then where would she be?
She pushed away that thought. She was overreacting. Some of this was probably jealousy. Another woman wanted him, after all. There were still her fears about leaving to blame this on.
She seemed to have one excuse after another. Meanwhile, there was so much emotion in Cole’s face. Desire and longing and something he wanted to say. Something that would make things right—
Then the doorbell rang.
“Food!” she said. “I’ll get it. Just stay naked.”
She leaped out of the bed, grateful for the reprieve, and rushed to the kitchen where their clothes lay scattered. Radar ran with her, his tags jingling merrily. He thought this was a game, not the end of everything.
“Just a minute!” she called toward the door, throwing on her skirt, buttoning her blouse quickly. Realizing her nipples showed through the fabric—what had Radar done with her bra?—she threw on her jacket, then slid her bare feet into her shoes, hoping to hide the fact she’d just had sex by looking put together.
She yanked open the door…to a woman in a pinstriped business suit. No delivery person, this one.
Her eyes went wide, her eyebrows shot up. Her thin and jumpy eyebrows. Kylie would have recognized them anywhere. Oh. My. God. It was Deborah. “Is Cole Sullivan home?” she asked.
“Uh, yes. Of course. Come in.” What the hell was Deborah doing here? Worse, what was Kylie’s excuse? Janie would kill her for this. “I’m…here to…” She spotted Radar heading toward the hall. “Get the dog. I’m Cole’s friend…the one with the dog. Radar, let’s go. Cole, you have company!”
“He’ll be right out,” she said to Deborah. “I think I, um, woke him up coming for the dog.”
She glanced at Deborah, who was staring at her, wanting to believe her, Kylie could tell, but not quite able to. Two dots of red—alarm or anger—popped onto her pale cheeks and began to grow.
“Radar, come on. Let’s go.” She grabbed the leash from the entry table, then realized Deborah was staring past her toward the floor. She turned and saw Radar trot her way, her bra in his teeth. Good Lord.
Deborah stared at the dog as though he’d taken a dump in the living room. Her eyes jumped up to Kylie’s.
“That silly dog. It’s his favorite toy, can you believe it? My old bra and he carries it around like a chew toy.”
Then Cole appeared, his shirt open over his chest, pants barely zipped, hair disheveled. When he saw Deborah, his jaw dropped.
“Cole?” she said in a quavery voice.
“Deborah! You’re early,” he said lamely, looking sheepish and guilty as hell.
In the silence, Radar trotted the bra to Kylie and dropped it at her feet, sitting back on his haunches. Did I do good?
Deborah’s gaze zipped from the bra to the dog, to Kylie, and finally settled on Cole’s face. “No,” she said bitterly. “It looks like I’m too late.”
14
IT MUST HAVE BEEN in Deborah’s voice mail message, Cole realized with sick dread, watching her put the obvious two-and-two together about him and Kylie. He’d ignored the cell phone beep from the night before, figuring it was Deborah dissecting her latest meeting. He’d found the chitchat very awkward, with her acting cozier and cozier and him pulling away more and more. He’d planned to take her to dinner at T. Cook’s the day after she returned and break it to her as gently as he could. He hoped that physical proximity would show her there was no chemistry, too.
But here she was. In a room alive with chemistry. None of it involving her. He felt like a complete jerk.
“I’ll just get Radar and his chew toy out of your way,” Kylie said and lunged for the dog, who galloped away. What the hell was Kylie doing? Pretending to be a dog sitter? And her bra was a chew toy? No one would believe that.
“There was a window in my schedule…” Deborah said faintly, sounding stunned. “I left you a message. Your office said you’d gone home early, so I came straight here. All the way from London. To surprise you.”
“I’m surprised. You bet.” Horrified was more like it.
“Radar, dammit, come to Mommy,” Kylie said through gritted teeth, bounding after the dog who seemed to be playing tag with her.
“What’s going on, Cole?” Deborah demanded, her eyebrows doing jumping jacks on her forehead. They were strangely thin, almost invisible.
“Deborah, listen, I—”
“Nothing’s going on,” Kylie blurted, ceasing the chase. “Really. Let me just get the dog out of here and you two can talk. I know Cole’s been dying for you to arrive, Deborah. Just let me get out of your hair.” She shot him a frantic look.
He hadn’t told Kylie Deborah was no longer a possibility, and now she was madly trying to salvage a relationship that was dead before it started.
Radar emerged from the kitchen at that moment. With Kylie’s panties in his teeth.
“Oh!” Kylie yelped and lunged for them, but Deborah, of course, had seen. She had the quick eyes and head movements of a nervous bird.
“So it’s true. You are sleeping with her.”
What did she mean by that? She’d suspected? How?
“It’s not what you think,” Kylie said to her, scooping up her panties and wadding them in a ball. “This is all a big, fat mistake.” She shot him an apologetic look. “Just erase this from your mind like it never happened.”
“Kylie…” he warned, not wanting to hear the most beau
tiful experience of his life described as a mistake, even to save hurt feelings.
“You lied to me.” Deborah’s voice went high and sharp as a blade. “We talked and talked and you never said a word. We agreed—no games, be honest, be direct.”
“I should have said something, I know, but you and I were just a possibility and—”
“And you and her?”
He looked at Kylie and his heart flipped over. We were heaven on earth. Pure joy.
“We were killing time,” Kylie said, her voice jagged with emotion. “Just until you got here and I left town. Consider me gone already. Forget this terrible moment. Please.”
He felt her words like blows. He couldn’t let her go. Not now. Making love to her before the doorbell, he’d known it in his soul. Maybe she wouldn’t stay, but they could visit. They had to do something, work something out.
She turned to him. “I wish you every happiness, Cole.” Her face was sad and embarrassed and scared. “I’m sorry. I knew better. I should have just said goodbye like a sensible person.” She blinked quickly, bit her lip, then rushed off, pausing to scoop her bra off the floor and blast out the door.
“What about her dog?” Deborah demanded of him. “She left her dog. And, who knows. Maybe a slip?”
“Radar’s not Kylie’s dog. That was…”
“Another lie?”
“Yes, but…”
“Is that hers?” Deborah pointed at Kylie’s purse on the floor where she’d flung it when they threw themselves at each other while ordering food.
“Yes, it is. That’s Kylie’s purse.” He grabbed it and headed for the door, hoping for a private moment in the parking lot to explain everything, but Kylie had returned and stood on his landing.
“Hard to stomp off without my keys,” she said, taking her purse from him.
“I’ll call you,” he murmured. As soon as he talked this through with Deborah, to whom he’d been unfair.
“Don’t. I can’t handle it. I have to leave and you have to fix this.”
“You don’t understand. I—”
“I do understand. Just fix it.” And then she was gone.
But it was Kylie he wanted to fix things with. He wanted her in his arms, his heart, his life.