by Robin Kaye
“Hell, yeah. If you’re serious about wanting to be a good guy and not take advantage of Kendall, you’re going to need protection. Face it, man: if she’s half as hot and bothered as you are right now, you’re going to be in a world of hurt when she gets you alone again. You, my friend, might just have the world’s most sexually frustrated female on your hands.”
“Why do you say that?”
Jaime cracked a smile and shrugged. “You know how rumors are. You can’t believe everything you hear, but over the years I’ve learned that there’s always at least one kernel of truth in all of them. And if Kendall is as inexperienced as she claims, she has no one with which to compare Dave.”
“Of course she doesn’t. But what does that have to do with anything?”
“Let’s just say that I’ve heard from more than one reliable source that David was a real dud in the sack. He couldn’t measure up, if you get my meaning.”
“Women talk about things like that with you?”
“No, of course not. But it’s amazing what a man can learn sitting next to a bunch of women on Ladies’ Night. After a few drinks, the lot of them invariably start talking about their best and worst sexual experiences. David’s name is always mentioned. And I doubt his nickname, Little Napoleon, was meant to be a badge of honor.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
By the time Kendall got off the phone with Erin, she had a plan in place. If Jack wanted to be friends, that’s exactly what they would be.
She might have been placed firmly in the friend zone, but she’d be damned if she was going to make it comfortable for him. She had a lot of male friends. Unfortunately, she’d never before had the urge to kiss any of them and rip their clothes off. So, just because the ball was in Jack’s court didn’t mean she wasn’t going to play by her own rules. It could be fun.
Kendall took out all her sexual frustration by cleaning up the mess in Jack’s room. She started sweeping, only to give up and use the broom handle to knock the loose pieces of plaster off the ceiling. It had to come down anyway, and it felt really good to demolish something. Who knew?
By the time she got the worst of the plaster off, her hair, her clothes, and every piece of furniture in the room was covered with an inch of dust and chunks of plaster. After most of the cleaning was done, she rearranged the furniture so it was piled along the side where the ceiling was more or less intact, stripped the bed, and tossed the sheets on the pile of Jack’s dirty laundry. Then she dragged everything to the mudroom and started a wash, stripped down to her bra and panties and tossed her own clothes in with the rest, and headed toward the shower.
As Kendall rinsed the dust and grime out of her hair, she thought she heard something.
“Kendall?” There was a knock on the door. “Are you in there?”
“Yes, come on in.” The shower had a frosted-glass enclosure so Jack would be able to see her silhouette and she’d be able to see his, but neither of them would be able to see the particulars, which worked for her.
He stepped into the bathroom, and she wished she could see the look on his face. “You’re in the shower.”
“You didn’t hear the water?”
“I thought it was the washer.”
“I have that going too. I’m multitasking.” He didn’t move, so she finished washing her hair, arching her back a little more than normal while she rinsed. The water ran over her breasts, and the cold air that rushed in from the open door flirted with her nipples.
She’d never known what a turn-on teasing a man could be. She’d tried with David, but nothing she’d ever done had made much of an impression on him. But, then, everything was different with Jack. No matter what she did, when they were in the same room, she had his full attention and she basked in it, soaking it up like a cat in a sun-filled window. She took the bar of soap and ran it around her breasts and belly, working up a lather.
Jack stood like a statue.
“Did you need something?” She put her foot on the bench and lathered up her leg, sliding her hands from her thigh and down her calf to her foot. She thought she heard him groan, and didn’t bother hiding her smile—it wasn’t as if he could see it.
She soaped her other leg and then turned to rinse, running her hands all over her body before squirting conditioner in her hair and working it in.
Jack still hadn’t answered her question. He stood, seemingly transfixed, his feet shoulder width apart, rooted to the floor.
She’d never understood what women who danced naked for men got out of it—well, other than pretty good money. She had a friend in college who stripped for tuition. Now she was beginning to understand the rush of power she must have felt at having a man watch her every move, knowing how she was affecting him. Knowing Jack watched her, wanted her, and seemed incapable of taking his eyes off her was a complete turn-on. Warmth pooled low in her belly—all it would take was one touch in the right place and she’d explode. She wasn’t sure which of them would end up more frustrated—her or Jack.
Kendall finished rinsing the conditioner out of her hair and turned off the water. All she could hear was heavy breathing—hers or his, she wasn’t sure. She opened the door a crack and stuck her hand through. “Jack, could you hand me a towel?”
After a moment, when he still hadn’t moved, she snapped her fingers. “Jack?”
That startled him. “What did you say?”
She squeezed water out of her hair. “I asked if you’d hand me a towel.” She stuck her hand out again, and it came in contact with terry cloth. “Thanks.” She took her time drying her face, then ran the towel over her hair before wrapping it around her body and tucking the corner between her breasts.
Jack still hadn’t moved.
She took a deep breath to make sure the towel was secure. It was one thing to face him through frosted glass; it was another to step out of the shower with nothing between them but a towel. Still, she went for it. It wasn’t as if she had much choice—it didn’t look as if he was going anywhere.
She had to look up at Jack since he was still in his boots, which added a good inch to his already impressive height. It was as if the small bathroom had shrunk with him in it, stealing all the air and replacing it with his scent—a combination of wood smoke and pine, with a hint of man. He didn’t look happy. His lips formed a tight line, the vein by his temple throbbed, and the scar beneath the part in his hair turned a darker shade of red.
Kendall reached up and touched that spot and felt a divot beneath the smooth, hot skin at his hairline. “What’s this?”
“That’s where they drilled the hole through my skull. They said the bone will heal in time.”
She trailed her finger down the side of his face, over his rough beard, and felt another larger indentation in his cheek—she’d suspected his beard hid a set of killer dimples. This was more of a crease than a divot, but, then, he definitely wasn’t smiling now. No, his expression defied description—the closest she could come was a cross between a grimace and a frown. She supposed he could be gritting his teeth too. “Did you want something?”
His eyes flashed with a degree of unmitigated, raw hunger that surprised even her. Maybe she’d pushed him too far?
Jack blinked, and the muscle in his jaw jumped. He took a deep breath and looked like if he could count to ten, he’d be on his third or fourth round. “Jaime—” It came out in a croak. He cleared his throat, swallowed hard, and tried again. “Jaime isn’t going to be able to make a run to Concord for a few days, but he offered to let us use his truck, if you’re okay driving it.”
“Sure, I guess. I mean, how hard can it be?” The way his eyes flared again told her that was a bad choice of words, but it didn’t keep her from smiling. She never knew that being bad could be so much fun. She could only hope all this teasing was having at least as much of an effect on him as it was having on her.
She sneaked a peek at his fly—unfortunately, he had both fisted hands stuffed in the front pockets of his jeans, making it impossible
to gauge her progress. The lack of knowledge in that respect was not unusual for her; she wasn’t sure if she was just blind to it or if David had superhuman control, because she’d never once seen him tent his pants the way they talked about in the romance novels she loved to read. But, then, she had to take those with a grain of salt—they were fiction after all, and she knew this because almost every hero she’d ever read about sounded as if his erection reached porn-star proportions. Unfortunately, she’d never seen a pornographic film. Still, she didn’t imagine men could be that different size-wise. Could they? She wasn’t sure, but was definitely interested in finding out. Maybe she’d talk to Erin about renting one when she returned to Boston.
“Are you done in here?” Jack’s voice sounded pained.
“Me? Um, sure. I still have to do my hair and makeup, but I can do that after I get dressed.” She didn’t wait for a reply; she slid past him and out the door, feeling his eyes on her all the way down the hall to her room. Score one for the novice.
Kendall looked through the clothes she’d brought. She hadn’t packed to impress—that was for sure. Her only plan was to veg alone in a mountain cabin, but, then, she told herself, sexy was all in the attitude, anyway. She slid into her prettiest bra-and-panty set, because even if he never knew what she wore beneath her clothes, she’d know. She took her time smoothing on shea butter lotion with a hint of frankincense and myrrh, her favorite scents, and then pulled on a plain white tank, her moss-colored mock-wrap sweater with a shawl collar that dipped low on top and had an asymmetrical hem, gray stonewashed jeans, and her favorite cowboy boots with tassels hanging from the top that swung with every step. They might not be very practical, but when it came to shoes and boots, practicality was way overrated.
“Kendall, when will you be ready to leave?”
She stepped out of her room and almost ran into Jack. “Five minutes. Why? What’s the rush?”
“I was thinking we could have lunch out—I’m hungry. It’ll be my treat.”
She headed back to the bathroom to do her makeup, shaking her head all the way. “Oh no, we’ll go dutch. We’re friends, remember? You taking me out to lunch would be too much like a date, and friends don’t date, do they?”
“Sure they do. How do you think you go beyond friendship?”
She turned toward him and stopped just inside the bathroom. “I figured having sex would do the trick. But if you think friends date, then I guess we wouldn’t be breaking your rules.” She went to the sink and pulled out her makeup case.
“Rules?” He hovered in the doorway to the john, looking like the dictionary definition of the word indignant. “I don’t have rules.”
“Oh, come on. Of course you do—you’re a man. You probably have a whole list of things that have to happen to prove to you that I’m not on the rebound.” Just like David with his list of things that they had to accomplish before they could set a wedding date. Just the thought of being caught in the same kind of situation made her angry. She bit her lip to keep from saying so, then changed her mind. To hell with keeping her mouth shut and going along to get along. She was starting down a new path, and she’d say what she thought. Holding back had never done her any favors. “You know”—she turned to him, eyeliner in hand—“just because you have rules doesn’t mean I have to follow them. I never agreed to play that game. I can do whatever I want.”
“I’m not playing a game. I have no rules. I just think it’s too soon for you to jump into something like—”
“Sex? And who gave you the power to decide what I am or am not ready for? Maybe it’s you who’s not ready, and, if that’s the case, that’s fine. That’s your choice. But don’t think for a moment that you can decide anything for me. I’m done with abdicating my decision making. From now on, my life, my sexuality, and my future are in no one’s hands but my own. Got it?”
“Oh, I got it, all right.” His voice went down a few octaves along with his volume, but the words seemed to echo in her very bones. He was pissed, that much was obvious, but not frighteningly so. His anger was hot as hell but held in check, like the controlled burn of a rocket launcher. “But you need to understand something too. I’m not David. I don’t take advantage of people, and I don’t play games—not with you, not with anyone. And just so we’re on the same page, there’s one more thing you need to know.”
“Oh, really? And what’s that?”
He stepped closer, close enough for her to see the silver in his blue eyes and feel his coffee-scented breath on her cheek. “The next time you invite me into the bathroom when you’re showering, you’d better be willing to share a whole lot more than just the hot water, sweetheart. Are we clear on that?”
She grabbed the edge of the porcelain sink and held on. Oh, my. It made her want to strip back down to nothing and turn on a lot more than just the water. “Crystal.”
*
Jax held his breath while Kendall made her way across the cabin to the door. He’d never seen her wear makeup before. The first time they’d met, most of the makeup she’d worn was running down her face. She didn’t need it, but even he had to admit that whatever she’d done looked natural but accentuated her already stunning facial features. And then there was what she’d done to her eyes, all smoky and sexy. That alone took her from stunning to stellar, and she’d accomplished it all in what she said was five minutes flat.
He remembered his last girlfriend used to take two hours to get ready to leave the house, and a two-hour wait seemed like a dog’s age compared to Kendall’s five minutes.
The high heels of her boots tapped out a rhythm across the worn wood floor. She knew the path to Jaime’s place as well as he did, so there was no reason to point out the ridiculousness of her choice of footwear. If Kendall was anything like his sister, she wouldn’t care, but, then, Rocki would run a track meet in stilettos, and, knowing her, she’d probably medal. He might have to hold Kendall up by her belt loops the entire way down the hill to Jaime’s, but he figured there were worse things than holding Kendall close for a long hike.
Jax helped Kendall with her coat and watched as she pulled on a cute knit, billed cap before wrapping a matching scarf around her neck and mouth. All he could see of her were those amazing dark eyes and her perfectly shaped nose. That alone was enough to make walking a chore.
“Do you have the measurements I took?
He patted his pocket. “Right here. Jaime was nice enough to figure out the number of sheets of drywall to buy, and I made a list of the tools I’ll need to get the job done. We’ll pick those up too.”
“That’s not necessary. We can sneak into my parent’s garage and get everything on the list. You shouldn’t have to spend a bundle on tools that Dad already has. He’d blow a gasket if he knew you were buying duplicate tools. He has a thing about that.”
Jax shook his head. “No, it’s not worth taking a chance on you being spotted. Besides, it’s not a big deal. Come on, I’m starved.”
Kendall slid the whole way to Jaime’s place, and he was right: there were worse things than keeping Kendall from killing herself on the way down. And right now, any excuse to touch her worked for him, since he’d only allow himself platonic touches for the foreseeable future. And wasn’t that just the berries?
He helped Kendall into the cab of the truck, which, without a running board, required the use of upper body strength, and then did some deep breathing exercises on his way around the back of the truck before he slid in beside her.
He didn’t know if she was wearing perfume or what the hell it was, but she smelled so good, it made him want to permanently attach his nose to her body. “If you just go down here”—he pointed to the end of Jaime’s drive—“there’s a trail that will bring you to the highway so we can avoid driving through town entirely.”
“I know that, but how do you?”
“Jaime told me about the shortcut this morning.”
“Oh.” She started the truck and put it in four-wheel drive before shifting into
drive. “That was nice of him.”
No, that was a quick save. He had to remember to mind his p’s and q’s.
“It will take about forty-five minutes to get to Concord.”
He buckled his seat belt. “Is there a particular reason you’re telling me that?” He realized that she’d been telling him the timing of things a lot.
She looked at him and then back to the sorry excuse for a road. “I thought it was about time you started relearning the things you lost. When a person has a brain injury, and he loses the ability to walk, he goes to physical therapy to learn how to walk again.”
“And you think if you tell me how long things take, my brain will heal?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know if it will heal, but you’ll start to relearn things. You’ll have the information to put time and numbers together, and you’ll do it. It will just take time.”
He did not want Kendall teaching him how to count like a freakin’ kindergartener, and he didn’t want to be anyone’s little pet project.
“Oh, now you’re angry.”
“I am not.”
“Oh yes you are. I’ve seen you angry, remember?”
“No, you haven’t.”
“Liar.” But she said it with a smile on her face. “In the bathroom, about an hour ago. Don’t tell me you weren’t angry when you issued your little warning.”
“That wasn’t a warning, Kendall. It was a promise.”
“If you were trying to scare me, it backfired.”
“Scaring you was never my intention.”
She raised an eyebrow at that. “It would have served you right if I had done the first thing that came to mind.”
As tempting as it was to ask, he knew he’d be walking straight into dangerous territory. He had been angry, but he’d been more turned on than anything else. Still, at least they’d gotten off the subject of fixing him.
“You’re not curious?”
Oh, he was curious, all right—the way a person who has a fear of heights is curious about skydiving. “I suppose I am, in a purely theoretical way.”