Then, Again

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Then, Again Page 7

by Karen Stivali

“Not these days.” Dave grabbed a mushroom off the cutting board as James chopped. “We’ve got two kids, in case you forgot, and Judy’s sister’s been up for the week with her three. It’s every man for himself right now.”

  “You know what? I’m in a good enough mood, I’m gonna take pity on you. I’ll make you a steak but then you’re outta here.”

  “Deal.” Dave jumped down and tossed his empty beer bottle into the recycling bin. “You want one?” he asked, reaching for another.

  “I’m good.” James gave the shallots a flip with a quick flick of his wrist then dumped the mushrooms into the pan. He turned on another burner and set a grill pan on it. Once he smells the steak cooking he’ll be too distracted to interrogate me.

  “You didn’t tell me. Who’s the lucky babe?”

  Damn. James hesitated, not really wanting to hear his brother’s two cents regarding this particular date. He tried to make his answer as nonchalant as possible. “Kay Turner.”

  Dave’s face showed no sign of recognition. “She hot?”

  “Yes.” You have no idea.

  “Turner. Why does that name ring a bell?”

  James took a deep breath. “Maria Turner’s granddaughter.”

  He watched as the wheels turned in Dave’s head. His eyes bugged and it was clear he finally realized who James was talking about. “Your hot date is with Kimmy Turner.”

  James busied himself scrubbing clam shells in a colander. “She goes by Kay now.”

  “Oh, she goes by Kay now, does she? Shit, Jimmy. I can’t believe you’re goin’ out with Kimmy and I had to drag it out you. Wait. Is this like an actual date?”

  “Yeah, it’s an actual date. We’ve been hanging out since she came back to town.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything when we were bringing over the food for the funeral?”

  “I gotta tell you everything?”

  “No, dipshit, just the good stuff, like you finally banging someone you were obsessed with for a whole summer.”

  James felt his ears burn with heat. He threw the steak onto the grill pan. The aroma of seared meat filled the air from the moment it made contact with the sizzling pan. “I didn’t obsess over her.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Dave chuckled and the sound grated on James because he was right. He had obsessed over her. He hadn’t felt great about it back then and the memory wasn’t any more settling in hindsight.

  James flipped the steak over and seared the other side then shoved the whole pan under the broiler to finish it off.

  “So, what, no details?” Dave’s grin was annoying as hell.

  “Nope.”

  “You’re killin’ me, kid.”

  James shook his head. “Not fast enough.”

  Chapter Twelve

  By the time Dave polished off his steak and finished making cracks it was almost time for Kay to arrive. Thank God I didn’t ask her to get here earlier. He wasn’t sure why it mattered so much to him that it was only the two of them tonight, he just knew it did. He was having a hard enough time getting a grip on his own take on what was going on between them. The last thing he needed was input from Dave, or anyone else in his family for that matter.

  For years all he’d been hearing was “find a nice girl and settle down”. He’d thought he’d done that when he’d met Patricia. His family hadn’t warmed to her, but he figured that was their problem. In retrospect he wished he’d listened to them. She was totally wrong for him. They’d seen it and he hadn’t.

  God knew what they’d have to say about him dating Kay. Six years younger. Jet-set lifestyle. He hadn’t even been able to talk Patricia into moving out of Philly, he didn’t stand a chance at getting someone like Kay to settle down at the shore. Do I even want that? Maybe I’m not meant to get married. Look what happened to Dave. He’s been married five years and he’s scrounging around here for food. I’m probably better off staying single. Better alone… His thoughts hung in mid air like heavy clouds the second Kay walked in the door.

  “Hey.” Her smile seemed to brighten the whole room.

  His gut twisted as he walked toward her, the now familiar honeysuckle scent rising to greet him, further disabling his brain. “Hey.” He bent to kiss her. Warm sweet lips conformed to his. No, this is better than being alone. Her fingers slithered around his waist, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Much better.

  “It smells good in here.” She craned her neck to look past him, and he remembered he had food cooking on the stove.

  “Shit.” He grabbed the sauté pan and gave it a hearty shake. Good thing I was going for caramelized. He splashed some sherry into the pan. “Hey, how do you like your steak cooked?”

  “Medium. Can I help?”

  He almost said no out of habit. Generally speaking he preferred to cook alone. But making scones with Kay the other day had gone great. They worked well together. “You want to rinse the spinach?”

  “Sure.”

  He handed her a clean colander and lifted the clam-filled one out of the sink. He placed a hunk of butter into another sauté pan and went to work mincing cloves of garlic. The butter was bubbling and he threw in the garlic, the rich smell filling the air in the already steamy kitchen. He glanced at Kay, watching her delicate fingers sift through the spinach leaves, glossing over each one under the cool running water. He dumped the clams into the pan and poured white wine over them, covering it with a lid just as the bubbles began to simmer across the surface.

  “Do you seduce all women with your mad kitchen skills?” Kay’s eyes gleamed at him.

  “Only some.” He chuckled. “Actually, my last girlfriend, Patricia, couldn’t have cared less about food. She was one of those I eat because I have to in order to survive people.”

  “Ah, the eat-to-live type. I never understood that. I’m much more of a live-to-eat kinda gal.”

  “Good. That’s a hell of a lot more fun.”

  “Is that why she wasn’t in favor of you opening a restaurant?”

  Jesus. He’d forgotten what they’d talked about in the wee hours of the morning. He’d been half asleep. What else did I spill to her? “That was part of it, I’m sure. Mostly she just didn’t like the idea of the hours. Or living by the beach. Or my family.”

  “Your family’s so nice. What didn’t she like about them?”

  “Everything. They didn’t exactly like her either. She hated the big get togethers. Her idea of seeing family is politely sitting around a restaurant table and air kissing a few cheeks at the end of the evening. My family get togethers are more like a circus. With better food.”

  “I remember going to a few block parties your family threw. I always envied the fact that your family had so many people in it. It was always just me and Gram at our house.”

  “That had to be rough sometimes. I mean your grandmother was great, but you must have missed having brothers and sisters.”

  She shrugged, her hair falling gracefully over her shoulders. “You can’t miss what you never had. It would have been nice to have brothers or sisters. Or cousins. Someone my age. I think it made me more independent though. It’s not like my mother could have handled more kids. She never even wanted to have me. I’m the product of Catholic guilt.”

  James caught the hint of bitterness in her voice. “I’m sorry you’ve had such a hard time with her. My mother gets on my last nerve sometimes, but I always knew she loved all of us.”

  “It’s okay. You know, it’s funny, I always thought that what she’d taught me was that I don’t ever want to be like her. She always put her career first. Everything and everyone else be damned. I hated that about her. Still do. She couldn’t even take a day to come to her own mother’s funeral.”

  “Sounds pretty selfish.”

  Kay nodded, sadness coloring her features. “I hope I’m not turning into her.”

  “From what I know, you’re nothing like her.”

  “No? My ex claims he cheated because I was always at work. I hadn’t been to see
Gram in months.”

  James ran his hand down Kay’s arm, wanting to pull her into a hug. “Your ex cheated on you because he’s an ass. And your grandmother knew exactly how much you loved her. She was proud of you, Kay, not neglected.”

  “Thanks for saying that. One thing’s for sure. If I ever have kids I’ll be a totally different kind of mom. And I definitely won’t have any unless I want them. No one should have to grow up feeling like a mistake.”

  It hurt to hear her sounding so down. “Well, for a mistake I’d say you turned out pretty damned fantastic.”

  A smile tugged at her lips as the sparkle returned to her eyes. “Thanks. That was Gram’s doing. Plus I always had my camera keeping me sane.”

  James lifted the lid off the clams and scooped them into a large serving bowl. “You did always have a camera with you. I remember that. I guess that served you well.”

  “I’d be lost without one. Sometimes I feel like the only way I really see things is when I take pictures of them.”

  Kay watched as James turned the steaks. The aroma in the kitchen was so rich and dense her mouth watered. His brow furrowed, then he nodded. “I can tell that from your photos. They’re like looking at things through your eyes.”

  That’s the nicest compliment I’ve had in ages. “Thanks.” Goose bumps prickled up her legs.

  James tossed the spinach leaves into a pot and went to work slicing a loaf of Italian bread. His ropy forearms flexed as he cut through the thick crunchy crust. “Here.” He handed her a bottle of wine. “I set a table for us in the dining room. Go have a seat, I’ll be there in a minute.”

  She took the already uncorked bottle and passed through the slotted swinging door. Wow. Most of the room was still under construction, tables were upside down atop each other, chairs stacked high, the hardwood floor stripped and unfinished, but the bar was completely ready. The curved wooden bar top was polished to a high cherry shine, brass fixtures adorned the edges, a mirrored wall reflected the already stocked shelves of bottles and glassware. Several smaller bistro tables lined the front end of the room by the large picture windows. The single larger table, nestled in the corner, was set for two. She ran her fingers over the crisp forest green tablecloth, wondering if this was the first time it was used.

  “Behind you.” James’s deep voice sent a shudder through her as he passed to her right and set the steaming platter of clams in the center of the table. He placed a cutting board holding the bread and a small bowl of olive oil next to the clams then held out a chair for Kay. “Hungry?”

  “Starving,” she said. Feeling him next to her as she slid into her seat, food was the last thing on her mind.

  The sky grew dark as they ate and talked. James lit the two low candles that already adorned the table. The flickering light reflected off the gray flecks in his eyes, making them sparkle like twin blue gems. His black hair practically shimmered. She wanted to reach across the table and run her fingers through it, to feel all of him again. It was nearly impossible not to fidget in her seat. Her body was responding to everything he did and they weren’t even touching.

  “This was amazing.” Kay rested her fork and knife carefully across her plate. “I can’t eat another bite.”

  “Does that mean I can’t tempt you with dessert?” The playful expression on his face was drop dead sexy.

  She shifted in her seat. You’re tempting me just by breathing. “Maybe later.”

  His lips curled in a slow smile. “Fair enough. Why don’t I clean up then we could take a walk? Or we could go to my place, bring dessert with us.”

  He stood, hand extended. His warm fingers wrapped around hers as he pulled her upright, his other hand closing around her waist. His lips were meltingly soft, flavored with deep red wine. “I don’t know,” she whispered as his mouth trailed to her ear. “I don’t want you to get the impression that every time you feed me I’m going to sleep with you.”

  His lips worked their way down her neck, making her knees weak and rubbery. “Three meals a day, snacks, dessert. That might kill me. Not that it would be a bad way to go.”

  James’s apartment was on the third floor of a condo right on the bay. He ushered her inside, his hand resting lightly on her lower back, then disappeared into the kitchen, leaving her to survey his living room. It was clean and modern. Sleek furnishing, flat screen TV, modular stereo system, stainless shelves of CDs and books. Her eyes were drawn to the framed photos around the room.

  She wandered through the room examining the pictures. A set of frames led down the hallway. The first was a beach shot, taken locally. She recognized the bench and the look of the streetlamps, the sand shimmered in the low light black-and-white image. The next was a city, she wasn’t sure where. Philly, maybe, from when he lived there. The third photo made her stop in her tracks. She recognized it instantly. An outdoor restaurant in Florence, near the Duomo, taken through the wrought iron curves of a café chair, the cobblestones wet from a recent rain.

  James came up beside her.

  “Isn’t that…? Didn’t I…?” She stammered, her eyes darting from the picture to his face.

  He smiled, looking suddenly shy. “You took that one.”

  “I thought so. But how did you…?”

  James took a deep breath, his hands wedged into his pant pockets. “It’s one of the ones you sent me.”

  Kay remembered clearly. Right after the summer of Paolo she’d spent a semester abroad in Florence. When she’d left, James had asked her to take pictures for him, to make up for losing his camera when he’d been there years earlier. She’d been so excited at the prospect of having a reason to correspond with him she’d taken an entire album worth of photos and had sent the whole book to him. “But those were all standard-sized.”

  “I know. I loved this one, though, so I had it enlarged.”

  “I’m touched.”

  “So was I.” He rocked back on his heels, studying his feet before bringing his eyes to meet hers. “I didn’t tell you this at the time, but the day your photo album arrived was the day my father died.”

  Kay swallowed hard. “Oh James, I’m sorry. I remember Gram telling me about that, but it was months later, when I got back to the States.”

  “Well, your timing was impeccable. I was having pretty much the worst day of my life, identifying the boat, talking to police, trying to say something helpful to my mother.” A small tremor ran through him and Kay could feel his unhappiness. “Anyway, I got home that night and there was your package. Toblerone bars and a photo album.”

  “Oh God.” Kay shook her head. “I was such a goof. I did send you candy, didn’t I?”

  “You did. I hadn’t eaten all day and I sat down and cracked open the chocolate and flipped through your amazing pictures, and for the next half hour I wasn’t trying to plan out who was going to manage the fish market with my dad gone, or decide what clothes to bring down to the funeral parlor, I was back in Florence. I could see it all, I could smell it. Taste it. It was like magic.”

  Kay’s breath caught in her chest. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  James shrugged, looking more like his teenage self, his bangs flopping down over his eyes. Vulnerable. Irresistible. “I sent you a note.”

  “I know.” Kay felt her cheeks color. I still have it. “But all it said was thanks for the great pictures.”

  “I was a man of few words.” His lips twitched into a smile, and Kay stepped closer, brushing his silky hair away from his crystal clear eyes.

  “Was? So you use more words now.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist. “So many more. Good ones too. Like ‘breathtaking’, that’s a good word.” He kissed her, his lips glossing over hers softly at first, then with increased pressure.

  She ran her hands up his strong arms, feeling them tighten around her, drawing her up against his body. Every inch of him was long and hard. Her breasts crushed against his chest as she arched toward him, wanting nothing between them.

 
“Bedroom?” she asked, her heart beating so loudly in her ears she could scarcely hear her own voice.

  “Another fantastic word.” He scooped her up with ease, kissing her again as he made his way down the hall. The room was dark, shimmery, the light from the lampposts along the docks filtered into the room through the sliding glass door that lined one wall. James eased her down onto his king-sized bed, climbing in alongside her, his hands never leaving her.

  She tugged at his shirt to untuck it, her fingers gliding across his smooth firm abs. His skin was so warm. Tension swelled inside her, filling her with the need for release, the need for him.

  James made quick work of the buttons on her dress, slipping it off her and tossing it to the end of the bed. She pushed his shirt past his shoulders and he shrugged it the rest of the way. The sight of him was still stunning, all the more so when he slipped off his pants. She smoothed her hand over his stomach, the gentle swirl of hair tickling her palm as she inched lower, pausing before she wrapped her fingers around him. Everything about his body seemed flawless to her, like he’d been carved and molded just to suit her wildest fantasies. She stroked him, her thumb rolling over his silky tip. His eyes closed, and he sank back against the bed, giving in to the caress of her hand.

  She kissed his chest, hearing a low rumble of approval as she made her way lower, her lips trailing toward her hand as she continued to stroke. She puffed her breath hot against him before swooping out her tongue for a first taste. He groaned as her lips made contact, wrapping around him, gently sucking him deeper into her mouth with each pass.

  “Jesus,” he whispered, as she rode her tongue down his length, her hands massaging.

  His abs tensed under her fingers and she sensed he was getting close. She concentrated her efforts, taking him further. He sank his hand into her hair, but instead of holding her closer he gently nudged her away. “I want to be inside you. Make love with me.”

  She’d never had a guy stop a blowjob for sex. He pulled her up the length of his body, bringing her face even with his. His strong fingers caressed her face, his eyes dark and glistening.

 

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