All of You

by Dee Tenorio

  Kyle shimmered with vitality. He couldn’t hide a smile if you paid him. Lucas could frown for days and not even notice. Kyle’s eyes were brighter, his skin was golden. Was he taller?

  Lucas’s eyes narrowed as her thoughts rambled on. He shook his head at her, making a sound of supreme male exasperation. “And here I thought you had the sense God gave a fruit fly.”

  “I…What?” Wait a minute. He wasn’t the one supposed to be mad here. She was the wronged one. She opened her mouth to point that out but he shrugged and let go of his front door like it didn’t matter if it was closed or not.

  “You’d better come in.” He sighed, appearing somewhat put upon while he turned away and left her to enter the apartment or go back the way she came.

  “I have work for you,” she called after him, feeling strangely petty for coming here now, despite the legitimate claim.

  He kept going, through his open living room and around a corner. “Sure you do. Come on, Jessica, you’re letting the cool air out.”

  She stared at the open door, just knowing she was going to regret this. She hadn’t even gone inside and she was already losing the argument. Bland or not, the Lonnigans could derail her plans with unerring precision. It didn’t bode well for the rest of her mapped-out conversation and even worse for her revenge. But she was here for a reason and she’d better get to it. She stepped into the cool wood-paneled living room and closed the door behind her.

  “Tea?” Lucas asked, filling a kettle at his sink, while she tentatively followed him into what turned out to be his kitchen. Ninety degrees outside and he was making hot drinks. Given how well air-conditioned he was, though, she supposed it wasn’t a bad idea. She was going to be freezing in a matter of minutes. She shrugged and he took that for agreement. “Have a seat.”

  For an open-plan kitchen/dining room, it wasn’t particularly spacious, giving it a cozy feel she didn’t expect. The kitchenette table near the window even had a small, leafy plant, which surprised her. Lucas’s clinical approach to existing didn’t seem conducive to green things surviving in his home. Then again, hadn’t she surrounded herself with plants in an effort to curb those pesky nurturing needs she couldn’t quite bury?

  At least Lucas had had the presence of mind to fill his home with genuine warmth. The rust-colored walls and furniture, wood floors and pine paneling, touches of brown, leather and gold gave him a personality she’d never imagined he possessed. And he fit in it. Her home was comfortable, filled with the tiny luxuries she’d always wanted—fine fabrics, rich flavors, deep softness—but she was never quite sure if it reflected her as a person. If people walked in and knew she belonged there. Or knew that she didn’t.

  Great, now even Lucas was making her feel insecure.

  She dropped into the seat at the table, setting her satchel down next to her feet while Lucas put the kettle on the stove.

  “I thought when Kyle went all goofy over you that it was a one-sided thing,” he said, breaking the silence. “Actually, I thought it was finally justice that he was gone on someone who didn’t want him back. This is a surprise.”

  “What is? What are you talking about?”

  “You. You’re looking at me and all you can see are the ways I’m not Kyle.” He waved an impatient hand at her attempts to interrupt. He crossed his arms, turning his attention to the sink. “It’s not like you’re the first. Women take to him. Haven’t met one yet who knew him and didn’t think she was in love with him. Then they look at me and all they can see is what isn’t the same. Like I’m less than him, somehow. Worse, I can’t even blame the guy for it.”

  Shame filled her and she purposely untangled the knot she’d made of her fingers. “Lucas, I didn’t mean—”

  “You don’t have anything to apologize for. I’m the one who did something wrong to you, deliberately putting you in his path. I was asking for trouble.” He turned away to take the whistling tea off the stove. Within a minute there was a large, fragrant mug in front of her. The scent of a field of little yellow flowers came to mind while she stirred in the sugar packet he handed her.

  He lowered himself into the seat across from her, his ocean-colored eyes strangely comforting. “You know what I liked most about you, Jessica? Right from the onset?”

  She sipped the tea, hoping it tasted the way it smelled. Comforting. Relaxing. It was; the flavor slid over her tongue in a flash of heat and sweetness. “Hmmm?”

  “You were just like me. You didn’t want anything that was going to require any effort from either of us. You probably saw that there was absolutely nothing between us and that’s why you asked me out. I don’t mean any disrespect when I say that’s why I agreed. I rambled on about equations and you rambled on about cases. We spent months talking at each other instead of to each other—and that made us both deliriously happy. But it got boring, which is another surprise. It should have worked perfectly.”

  And yet…it hadn’t.

  Jessica chewed her lip, the liquid peace in the mug souring. She put it back on the table while she wondered backward. Was that really how it was? Had she purposely looked for a man who wouldn’t threaten her perfectly arranged life?

  Kyle certainly wouldn’t have been an option. He was too vivid, too alive. He would have sent her running at a passing glance. She’d still run, once the gig was up.

  If you were smart, you’d be running now, an annoying part of her mind insisted.

  “I still like you, Jessica.” Lucas interrupted her internal issues. “I know it was probably a lousy thing to do, sending Kyle in my place.”

  She raised her own eyebrows at him, mocking his imperious glare as best she could. “Probably?”

  Lucas only shrugged, unaffected. “It made sense at the time. You’ve never been a woman who changes her mind easily, and logic said you were going to break up with me over dinner.”

  “That reminds me,” she interjected, pretty sure she wasn’t going to like whatever else logic was going to be saying. “I’m breaking up with you. Officially. Just to be sure.”

  A girl had to get her points in with Lucas while she could. Especially before he said something horrible and a vein burst in her forehead.

  He narrowed one eye and kept talking as if she hadn’t spoken. “I didn’t think I needed to be there for it. I thought, here’s a woman Kyle doesn’t have a prayer of charming. Believe me, he needed a dose of reality. He’d come to me with some sob story about something missing from his life. Something about wanting the American dream. I was sure he’d fallen on his head and that you’d snap him out of it.”

  “The American dream?” It seemed the safest question. Nothing else he’d mentioned made any sense at all.

  “It’s completely ridiculous. He actually thought having a baby might be the way to fill some ‘empty space’.” His expression told her exactly where Lucas thought Kyle’s empty space might be. “He was blathering about wanting a houseful of kids, searching for some boring, simple-minded female to pop them out of. I’m still convinced he was trying to play a joke on me. Who wants Leave It To Beaver these days? Look, he even made a list to convince me.”

  While he got to his feet and went to a drawer near his fridge, Jessica fought to think past the screaming siren in her head. Leave It To Beaver? As in perfect little family, wife in apron and heels while the children parted their hair perfectly and got good grades in school? If she remembered the old sitcom, there was enough starch in that apron to stop bullets. Surely Kyle didn’t want…or expect…from her? Oh, God!

  “I don’t know why he thought I’d buy it, no matter how convincing he seemed. Kyle’s the last person I’d imagined would settle down, least of all with someone real. I haven’t seen him without a vapid, narcissistic vine-model on his arm for years. Here it is.” Lucas pulled a long pad of paper from the drawer and came back with it, still shaking his head. Belatedly, while handing it to her, he twitched his head to the side. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” she croaked, taking the pad wit
h a snap. Vapid? Models? And why was the idea of him with clingy gorgeous women instantly irritating when she didn’t want him on a permanent basis anyway?

  The top sheet of the pad was a mess, with lines and arrows putting the list in a sort of numerical order, but it matched the handwriting on the notes that had come with the plants. It was Kyle’s.

  “Smart, not a spender,” she read aloud, feeling her eyes widen. “Our age, avoid the desperate types unless cute. Unless cute?”

  Lucas wisely didn’t comment when she pinioned him with an accusing glare. She went back to the list.

  “Educated, no lecturers, Wants lots of kids. Soon. He underlined that one. What’s that supposed to mean?” Of course she knew what it meant. But fear had her rambling on. “Emotionally available, don’t want to play hard to get. Sense of humor a must. Honest, not nitpicky. Loyal. No temper, avoid schizos. Pretty, hotness not required.” Pretty was last? She tipped the list downward and all but growled at him, air finally getting into her—along with that misplaced rage. “Why didn’t the two of you just go buy him a dog?”

  “Well, last I checked, dogs only have puppies. I think he wanted something that resembled him a little more.”

  “Trust me, a boy would look exactly like him. Both of you, actually.”

  Lucas shook his head and sipped his tea with an annoying lack of offense. “I told him women didn’t like these kinds of things.”

  “What’s not to like? The fact that you think I’m smart and cheap or where you two think I’m your age and not only desperate but cute?” Her eyes narrowed on him as an extra insult finally caught her attention. “How old are the two of you anyway?”

  For a second, Lucas finally looked nervous. “Twenty-five?”

  “Nice try,” she grumbled, tossing the list on the table between them. “The two of you are pathetic. Him for thinking a list like this would help find someone and you for thinking I fit anything on here.”

  “I sent him your way because I was sure you didn’t fit much on that list at all.”

  “If you say I’m educated, Lucas Lonnigan, I’ll stuff you in your own teapot, take you to that elementary school down the road and give you to the first kid I meet likely to pick his nose and count with his fingers.” That would be more denigrating than the salt lick idea.

  “I was going to say pretty, actually.”

  “Oh.” Well, that was nice. Sort of.

  “Educated was a given,” he added, ruining it. If she could, she’d break up with him twice. “Emotionally available ruled you right out, so I thought Kyle was going to go down in flames and everything would be fine. Little did I know.”

  He probably practiced sounding that dry. She was about to eye the distance to the teapot before another thought got in the way.

  “Wait a minute. You think I’m closed off?” Wasn’t that just the crouton calling the cracker crunchy?

  “By choice,” he agreed with such a dose of casual disregard that it took her aback. Hadn’t anyone taught him any manners? How on earth had those two come out of the same womb? “It made you efficient and I appreciated the lack of sentiment to everything you did. That’s over now, though. Look at you. You look like you’ve been hit by a truck or something.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

  “Your focus is gone. You haven’t even gotten around to telling me about the case. And you look sad, Jessica. I don’t mean that negatively—”

  “You could have fooled me,” she snapped, wishing she had something to throw at him. The plant was a good choice. With any luck, it had been freshly watered.

  “There’s that sentiment I was talking about. I’ve always been this blunt, you just didn’t care before.”

  “You never did a character critique of me before. You wouldn’t come out of one very well, either, you know.”

  He nodded as if that were old news. “It’s no secret that I’m not likable. But you liked me. And now you don’t. A sure sign that you’ve come to your senses and reawakened to the real world.”

  Was it worse that he said terrible things about himself when she wanted to or that he said terrible things and didn’t mind them in the slightest? She couldn’t decide, but she did feel decidedly robbed of her indignation.

  “You need a better self-image,” she mumbled.

  That finally seemed to amuse him. “Believe me, if I didn’t enjoy myself so much, I’d probably have more friends.”

  “There’s a sick kind of logic to that.”

  “But logic all the same. What about you? What kind of logic are you using while you avoid my brother?”

  “I’m not avoiding him,” she said, trying to keep up with the abrupt change in topic. “I just have no plans to marry him.” She even smiled, despite the urge to convulse.

  “Good luck to you. Kyle has a way of getting what he wants. If that happens to be you…” He purposely let the thought trail off.

  “Then too bad for him.” The words hurt a little for some reason, but she ignored it. “He’ll figure it out and move on eventually. And I’ll be happy for him when he does.” She pasted a big fake smile on her lips and dared him to argue with her.

  Which he did. Compunctionless bastard. “I doubt it.”

  “Doubt what?”

  “Any part of it. Kyle never gives up and I’d bet that if he did move on, you’d be a sobbing, ice-cream-eating mess.”

  “Well, you’d be wrong.” Probably not about the ice cream, but she wasn’t about to admit that. “I have no matrimonial interest in your brother and even if I did, I will never be some man’s convenient wife. Furthermore, at the first possible opportunity, I plan to tell him that. Then he can go find his real loyal, cheap, child-spitting dream girl. Soon this whole mess will be behind us and things will be back to normal. Speaking of—here.” She pushed her folder toward him. “That’s the case. You’ll love it. It’s a big ugly mess.”

  “Really?” He plucked it from her hands like it was the holy grail, opening the crisp manila to the treasure inside, his brother’s love life completely forgotten.

  “Should keep you busy for a few days, at least.”

  He grunted, reading the description she’d given him. He was already gone. She rolled her eyes, sipped the tea again and waited.

  “When can you get me the files?”

  “As soon as you sign the contract. The client already has.” She took a pen from her pocket and handed it to him.

  He scribbled his signature, giving her a dark look. “You were sure of yourself. I could have been booked.”

  “You owe me.” She smiled at him sweetly. “And now you’ve paid me back.”

  He stopped writing, then looked down, his expression turning thunderous as he read over the terms. “This is insane. Why don’t I just pay him for the job?”

  “Because that wouldn’t be as much fun for me. I have to get back to work. I’ll get those books to you in short order.” She plucked the folder from his hands, tucking it under her arm and picking up her satchel at the same time.

  He had fast reflexes but she was out the front door before he even started after her. She kept going, down to the street and out to her car. She had the door open when he caught up, leaning across the hood with an expression this close to pleading.

  “Jessica, come on. We’re talking about a lot of money here.”

  “I have always advised you to read contracts before you sign them, Lucas. Even from me.” She tossed her bag onto the back seat.

  “I can’t do all of that work for twenty-five dollars!”

  “Yes, you can. I have total faith in your skills. Bye!” She waved and dropped into the seat, prepared to drive away and let him stew. But he suddenly stopped trying to change her mind. Instead, he straightened away from the car, his gaze traveling beyond the vehicle, his expression hardening instantly.

  Compelled, though not entirely sure why, Jessica looked over her shoulder and her insides clenched. Walking away from a street vendor with a couple of pretzels, into what loo
ked like a private park for the housing development, was none other than the man who haunted her mind day and night.

  With a tall, willowy brunette on his arm.

  Chapter Eight

  Belinda laughed at him. It wasn’t the reaction Kyle was going for, but since he’d not only stood her up for dinner last Saturday but stuck her with the likes of his brother, he tried to take it with good grace.

  “This is so typical,” Belinda crowed, biting into the pretzel he’d bought her. She shook the lengths of her ironed-flat black hair out of her face enough to keep it out of her food. Few things were allowed to come between Belinda and her meals. Rail thin and strong as an ox, she apparently burned off all her calories hefting pieces of metal around her nearby loft.

  “What is?” He tore into his own hot twist. Buttery, salty flavor filled his senses, giving him his only comfort of the day. She’d been right about fresh pretzels hitting the spot.

  He’d taken a rare day off work for a little bit of introspection on his situation with Jessica. He knew he’d made positive progress, but he had the sense he’d painted himself into a corner with this convenient-lover thing. Thinking about it didn’t help. Instead he discovered he could reflect on the whole of his existence in about forty-five minutes. He’d promptly panicked and called Belinda to help him figure out how to make a U-turn.

  “You can have just about any woman you meet, and you—being you—want the only woman you can’t have. It’s completely typical.” The jagged slices of her hair caught the breeze, moving as solid pieces while she chewed.

  Her getup today would have been inspiring, if it wasn’t just a little bit scary. She wore an old black tank top that didn’t reach her pierced bellybutton and had enough holes from bleach stains to make him wonder how it stayed together. Not to mention wonder how she planned to stay milk pale with the summer sun on all her exposed skin.

  He’d asked what the fist-sized band-aid on her belly was about but she’d shrugged him off a little too nonchalantly, claiming she’d cut herself with a shard of metal. She’d never even given herself a splinter in all the years he’d known her, so he knew there was a story there. She just wasn’t telling it.