Kissing Her Enemy

by Coleen Kwan

  “Amber,” he murmured, trying to marshal his emotions. “I want to talk about what happened in high school.”

  She drew back, wary. “Why? We’ve gone through this already.”

  “Not all of it. I’ve been thinking about it lately, and I need to tell you some things.” He kneaded the bridge of his nose. This was his chance to lay out the bare truth. He couldn’t mess this up. “That dinner, when you caught me with Tatum—”

  “It doesn’t matter. It happened a long time ago.”

  “I broke up with her a month earlier, but Tatum was always the jealous, possessive type. She refused to accept that we were done. She insisted that we were just going through a rough patch and that nothing had changed. I avoided her, thinking she’d eventually get the message. But then she started acting weird, sending me long, rambling text messages and even threatening self-harm. I couldn’t ignore that, so I agreed to see her again. That’s why we had dinner together. I was hoping to make her realize that we were really over and that maybe she should seek some professional help. My plan was that once I was satisfied she was okay, I would ask you out on a date. A real date. But then you dumped that Coke over me, and you were spitting mad at me, and Tatum was freaking out. It was a nightmare. Afterward, I was too proud to go after you, so I let things slide. We were weeks from graduation anyway, and I was spending the summer in Europe and then heading off to Harvard. I thought it was better to leave things as they were, but I should’ve explained things to you, not let you assume the worst. I’m sorry.”

  He stopped and let out a breath. Amber turned her head away as if she couldn’t bear to look at him. She stared out at the setting sun, and then eventually she turned back to him.

  “So what happened with you and Tatum?” she asked.

  “Tatum? Oh, she called me the next day and said she couldn’t be with me anymore, because I had too many weird stalkers.”

  “Stalkers? She called me a stalker?”

  “She had a different view of things than everyone else.”

  Amber plucked a leaf and rolled it around her finger. “Sorry about dumping that Coke over you. And thanks for explaining the situation. For years I thought you were a jackass, but now I know better.”

  Would things have turned out any differently if he’d told her sooner? The unspoken question hovered between them.

  “So…” she said slowly, still avoiding his eyes. “You were telling the truth when you said you liked me?”

  “Yes.” He watched her twirl the leaf. “You assumed I was lying because of Tatum?”

  “It was an easy conclusion, considering the circumstances.”

  He reached out and tilted her chin up toward him. “I wasn’t lying. How about you? You said you had a secret crush on me. For months.”

  A soft flush colored her cheeks. “That…was true. But I was a teenager. I said and did a lot of impulsive things back then.”

  He was willing to bet she hadn’t told many boys that she’d crushed on them. And even though she brushed it off now, he recognized she’d been hurt. But at least she knew the truth now.

  “What impulsive things?”

  She rolled onto her stomach and rested her chin in her palm. “Well, for example, I couldn’t wait to shake the dust of this town off my heels, but I ended up back here anyway, and I’ve never regretted my decision.”

  “What brought you back?”

  “My mother, mostly. She was going through a bad patch, emotionally and financially. My dad had just left her again” —she rolled her eyes— “and she wasn’t coping. I thought I’d hate coming back, but I didn’t. I started working for Tom, and my friends were here. I liked it. I felt like my life was finally going the way I wanted. Things were going well until—” She broke off, lips compressed.

  Logan said gently, “Until what?”

  “Until my mom got sick a year ago. Breast cancer. She had surgery and chemo.” She frowned fiercely at the picnic blanket.

  Logan rubbed her bare shoulder. “I’m sorry. How is she doing now?”

  “Oh, good. She’s gotten the all clear. Now that the chemo’s over, she’s eager to get out there and live life to the fullest, but she still has her off days.”

  “Is that why you filled in for her at the country club?” As she nodded, he wondered why he’d missed the clues. Hadn’t her uncle asked about her mother? But Amber never gave anything away easily.

  “The thing is,” she said, “I’ve always had to look out for my mom. Always had to be the responsible one, and deep down I kinda resented that. I used to wish that just once in a while she’d behave like a normal mom, you know? Like, nag me to do my homework or tidy my room or wear less skimpy skirts. She never did any of that. She was more like a ditzy younger sister that I had to keep rescuing. But when she got sick, I was terrified of losing her. Still am, really. She’s my mom, and I just want her to be happy and healthy.” She rubbed her face before turning to him with a rueful expression. “Sorry, didn’t mean to ramble on like that.”

  “Don’t apologize. I’m glad you told me.” He paused, mulling over what she’d revealed. “I feel the same about my dad, to be honest. He’s also had some health problems recently. His heart isn’t too good, and his blood pressure is a worry. That’s really why I came back to Pine Falls, because he was sick and refused to give up work unless I took over.”

  Amber sat up and gave him her full attention. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Not many people do. We’ve kept it quiet, mostly because my dad is a proud, stubborn bastard and hates admitting to any weakness. So we’ve told people that he wants to retire and this is all part of the succession plan that we’ve been preparing for years.”

  “Are you saying you would’ve preferred staying in Dallas, doing your own thing?”

  “I moved to Dallas because I didn’t want any special favors as the boss’s son. I enjoyed my time there, but I always knew I’d return one day—just not this soon.”

  “Your dad must be happy to have you back, though.”

  Logan snorted. “He’s having a hard time letting go. I know he means well, but he refuses to take a backseat. Makes my job difficult sometimes.”

  But none of that was as bad as discovering the litany of bad decisions made by his father that had brought their once-prosperous company to its knees. Even worse, he had to downplay the severity of their problems in order to preserve his father’s pride.

  “But it’s worth it,” Logan added. “He’s my dad, and like you with your mom, I want him to be happy and healthy.”

  Amber was studying him with a curious expression. “So what does he think about your home improvement center?”

  “He’s all for it. He can see it’s a shrewd investment.”

  “Mm.” Amber’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “And what about us working together on these playhouses? Does he approve of that, too?”

  “He thinks we’re just being used by the mayor.”

  “That part’s true.”

  “But I don’t regret it.” He stroked his hand down the length of her arm, lingering on her silky skin. “Not one bit.”

  Instead of softening and responding to his caress, she frowned. “Bet he wouldn’t like us fraternizing on your private island. And neither would your mother.”

  He leaned back as his mother’s words echoed in his head. Your father and I have decided you’re not getting full control of the company until you’ve settled down with the right girl.

  “I told you. They’re not here.”

  She gazed across the water. “So while you were in Dallas, you didn’t meet anyone special?”

  “No,” he said, surprised by the change of subject.

  “Really? I would’ve thought those Texan gals were irresistible.”

  “I liked the Texan gals, but no.”

  “Not into long-term relationships, huh?” She rolled onto her side, propping her head on her palm. “Don’t worry. This isn’t a trick question. I’m not into them, either—serious re
lationships, I mean.”

  “You?” He flicked his gaze over her reclining figure. She was a goddess basking in the setting sun. “You surprise me. No one was up to snuff?”

  “It’s not that. I just don’t think relationships are for me. And no, I’m not scarred by what happened to my parents. I know plenty of happy couples, but I can’t imagine myself being part of one. I like my independence, just like you.”

  Yes, he liked his independence. He should’ve been reassured, but instead he felt oddly cold. “Glad we cleared that up.”

  A flock of birds flew across the water, looking for a place to roost for the night. The sun had slipped behind a bank of clouds, turning the lake gray and the evening light dull.

  “Maybe we should head back.”

  He sighed. “Yeah. We can’t be on the water after sunset.”

  They gathered their belongings. The murky atmosphere seemed to infect them, and Logan was conscious of the somberness between them. He hoped Amber didn’t regret talking about her mom. He sensed she didn’t often open her heart like that to others, and he felt touched that she’d done so with him. What else did she keep hidden behind her smart-aleck mouth and tough-chick attitude? He wanted to know more; he wanted to know everything about Amber. But a dissenting voice at the back of his mind warned him to be cautious. He was getting in too deep. What he and Amber had was purely physical. Dragging emotions into it would only complicate matters.

  …

  “How about we go to your place tonight?” Logan said.

  They had returned to the pier where Logan had secured the Jet Ski, stowed away the life vests, and dealt with the forgotten picnic basket. Now, they were in the driveway, standing between their two trucks.

  Logan’s suggestion took Amber by complete surprise. “Why?”

  “Why not? I don’t even know where you live.”

  “It’s not like yours. In fact, my place could probably fit into the foyer of your house.”

  “I’m not expecting Shangri-la. I’d like to see it, that’s all.”

  Amber eyed him cautiously, still mulling over what he’d told her about Tatum. At least now she knew why Logan hadn’t called her after that night in his Mustang. And why he’d avoided her after the fiasco at the restaurant. Having just broken up with one possessive girlfriend, he’d have good reason to be wary of dating someone who’d dumped a Coke over his head. She’d reacted without thinking and driven him away, but it was difficult to see how they would’ve lasted anyway. Still, she appreciated his explaining the circumstances.

  Logan seemed different tonight. In fact, the whole evening had felt unusual. She’d loved the care and thought he’d put into everything, and their shared confidences about their difficult, exasperating parents had made her feel closer to him. It had felt like a date, a really good date, and maybe that was why she felt uneasy. She was not dating Logan, and she couldn’t afford to develop feelings for him. Yes, they had incredible sex, and she couldn’t say no to that yet, but she had to keep her emotions separate from the physical attraction.

  “Amber?” He interrupted her confused thoughts. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. If you don’t want to, that’s cool. We can head over to my place.”

  Well, she didn’t want him thinking she was ashamed of her home. In fact, she was proud of it, however humble it might be. “No, we’ll go to my place. You can follow me in your truck.”

  She climbed into her clunker. Twenty minutes later, she pulled up outside her hardware store, hopped out, and strolled over to Logan’s truck, which had stopped behind hers.

  “We’re here,” she said when he’d wound down his window. Chilled air blasted out of his cabin, whereas her POS had been stinking hot.

  His eyebrows rose up. “You live here? Above your store?”

  “What I save on rent goes toward the mortgage.” She waved to the side street. “I’ll open the gate around the corner so you can park in my garage and no one will see your truck.” There was little chance of anyone spotting them, since no one else lived above the stores, and across the road was the library, now closed on a Sunday evening.

  She unlocked the gate and waited until he had parked his truck before leading the way up the back stairs to the apartment.

  “Tom used this space to keep some of his junk,” she said as she ushered him into the tiny hallway. The apartment consisted of three rooms—a combined living room and kitchen facing the street, and a bedroom and bathroom looking to the rear. “It was pretty yucky when I bought the building, but I scrubbed it out, slapped on some paint, polished the floorboards, and put in a small kitchen.”

  Logan was looking about him with great interest. The walls were fresh green with white trim. The furniture was mostly white with pink and orange cushions adding pops of color. Pots of herbs and geraniums crowded on the sills and above the kitchen sink. A bowl of lemons, tomatoes, and avocadoes rested on a small table, together with her laptop and shoeboxes filled with business receipts. She had worked hard to make a home out of three dreary rooms, and each time she came in, she experienced a sense of deep satisfaction.

  “It’s great,” Logan said, and she knew he meant it. He touched the convoluted lampshade that she had rescued from a garage sale and refurbished. “This place is very you.”

  “What? Cheap and cheerful?”

  “No.” He looked shocked. “Warm and inviting. Inspiring.”

  “Okay, now you’re making me blush.”

  He peered at the photos stuck on her refrigerator. “Who’s that?” He jabbed a finger at a picture of her and a good-looking guy with his arm slung around her shoulders.

  “That’s Caleb, my friend Hannah’s brother.”

  “Ex-boyfriend of yours?”

  She chuckled. “No. We’re just friends.”

  A skeptical look lingered in Logan’s eyes. He couldn’t be jealous, surely. She decided to change the subject.

  “Are you hungry? My neighbor gave me some of her prized pastitsio. I can heat it up and make a salad to go with it.”

  “Sounds good. Let me help you with the salad. I still feel bad about the picnic.” After several hours sitting out in the heat, his chicken salad and cheese had spoiled, and he’d thrown it all into the garbage.

  “Sure, why not?” she said, handing him a knife and chopping board.

  As they worked side by side in her tiny kitchen area, Logan started to sing “Satisfaction” under his breath. She joined in, and they bumped hips as he sliced tomatoes, cucumbers, and avocadoes. This was how life should be. Simple, uncomplicated, fun. Good food, good music, and a good man to share it with. Her heart hitched. She shouldn’t be daydreaming about a future with Logan, because there was none. This was just a sweet interlude from reality; she had to remind herself of that.

  They sat down at her crowded table to eat, accompanied by two bottles of beer she found in the fridge.

  After a few minutes of eating, Logan nodded in appreciation. “Mm, this pastitsio is fantastic. You say your neighbor made it?”

  “Eleni, the yarn-store owner. You met her the other day. She likes to mother me sometimes.”

  “I’m glad she does. And these tomatoes? I’ve never tasted such damn good ones. Where did you get them from?”

  “Oh, those are from Giovanni, a customer of mine. He always has a box of homegrown vegetables for me. Sometimes I accept them as payment when he’s short on cash.”

  Logan looked at her appreciatively. “You’re a good person, Amber,” he said softly.

  She shrugged off his compliment. “I guess I’m not hideous.”

  They continued their meal, talking about the kind of music they liked. Then, leaning back in his chair and wiping his mouth on a napkin, Logan changed the subject. “Until tonight I didn’t realize this store was also your home. I’m more than happy to make an adjustment to my offer.”

  She set down her fork. “Don’t, please.”

  “But it’s obviously worth more to you—”

  “We agreed not
to discuss business when we were alone.” Why did he have to spoil the night by reminding her that this relationship was nothing but a fleeting illusion?

  He rubbed his chin. “We have to talk some time. Tomorrow we start the last playhouse, and then the planning committee makes their decision the week after. We should—”

  “Are you tired of sleeping with me?”

  His eyes went wide. “What? Hell no.”

  “You can be honest. I won’t have a tantrum.”

  “Why are you asking me this?”

  “Because you seem determined to talk shop, and I thought you came here because you wanted to sleep with me, but maybe I’m wrong—”

  “Are you trying to change the subject?”

  “Hmm, do you want to have sex with me? Because it doesn’t—”

  “Christ on a cracker, I’m dying to have sex with you!” He shoved back his chair and stood. “I think about it all the damn time. Want me to prove it?” He grabbed her hand and yanked her to her feet.

  She gasped as she hit the solid wall of his chest. “Yes,” she breathed. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  He swung her into his arms, causing her to squeak in surprise. This was the first time he’d done that, and she liked it a lot.

  “Just a little warning,” she said as he strode with her toward her bedroom. “I don’t have Egyptian cotton sheets, and my bed isn’t as massive as yours.”

  “No problem. I’m not fussy about sheets, and what I want to do with you doesn’t require a bed.”

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she nuzzled his throat and allowed the waves of pleasure and anticipation to swamp her underlying unease. At least he had stopped talking about business. She could prolong her fantasy for one more night.

  Chapter Nine

  The third and final playhouse went up without a hitch. It was another kit from a different supplier, but this time the dimensions and contents were correct, and Amber and Logan erected it within a day. Then they customized it, going for a farmers’ market theme. They added window boxes, filling them with potting mix and vegetable seedlings. They built shelves for storing baskets and buckets, a hen coop, and even a wooden cutout cow.