Inspire (11 page)

She leaps forwarding, clinging to my knees, and says, “Please, can I have this one? Please, Wilder.”

I try to surreptitiously check the price tag, but Kalli sees it. Damn. Nothing to do about that.

“Sure,” I promise. “If this is the one you want, we can get it.”

She starts bouncing up and down then, the fabric of the skirt bouncing wildly with her as she dances her victory. I smile, and my eyes are drawn again to Kalli, who's smiling at Gwen, too. Then her eyes lift to mine. They dim. Her smile falters.

And that shouldn't feel like a knife through my chest, but it does. I pull the curtain wide, and say, “You get dressed, Gwen. I'll wait for you outside.”

Kalli steps out first, and I follow, my eyes taking in the new dress she's wearing. It's purple, black, and gray. And on the surface, it seems simple. It's loose and long, and her shape should be swallowed beneath it, but it's not. Instead, the looseness of it feels like a tease. Here and there are cut-outs that give a peek at the silk-lined interior and just a hint of skin. It feels halfway between something she'd wear on the beach and something she'd wear in the bedroom. And I enjoy the thought of her in both of those places.

I've forgotten how to be charming. Forgotten how to entice a woman. All I know is that I have to see her again, and now that Gwen has found her dress, there's nothing keeping me here. So, instead I just say the first thing that comes to my mind. “I've been thinking about you.”

She hesitates outside her dressing room. “You have?”

I nod. Because if I actually voice how often I think about her, I'm likely to send her running again. I gesture behind me where Lennox is presumably moving somewhere through the shop and ask, “Is that your roommate?”

Her brows furrow. “Roommate?”

“The night we … uh, the last time I saw you, you said your roommate had friends over you didn't like.”

“Oh. No. Lennox and I haven’t known each other that long. That roommate … she moved out. We weren't a good fit. She was … reckless.”

“Well, I'm glad she's gone then.”

She nods. “Yep. She’s definitely gone, and
everything
is under control now.”

Again, I cut right to the chase. “Can I take you out sometime? Dinner?”

She leans toward me a few inches, then seems to realize what she's doing and straightens.

“I can't.”

And … a knockout in one punch.

“You can't?”

God, I should shut up. She said no. I should take that hint and spare myself further misery, but I don't. Because there's something in her eyes, the way she tracks my movements just as obsessively as I do hers. I remember how vulnerable she'd looked that night when I'd started asking questions about what had happened to her earlier. I see that same vulnerability in her now, and I think she's hiding. I think that's why she said no, and I'm just enough of a masochist to attempt changing her mind.

“You should,” I say. “You should go out with me.”

“Oh, I should, should I?” Her tone sounds offended, but there's the barest tilt at the corner of her mouth that gives me hope.

“You should. You see, I know me. And I'm a pretty fun date.”

“I'm sure you are.”

“I'm also a good kisser.”

“And how do you know that?”

I step closer, closing the distance between us, until she has to tilt her head up to meet my eyes.

“I've been told once or twice,” I say. “Would you disagree?”

My eyes drop to her lips, and her tongue peeks out for just half a second, wetting her bottom lip.

“Wilder.”

I close my eyes. It's surreal hearing her say my name again. I'd never thought it would happen.

“Kalli,” I return.

Our eyes meet again, and that vulnerability is back tenfold. She looks scared. Of me? And before I know what I'm doing, I've reached up and skimmed my fingers along her cheek. I want to comfort her, take away whatever it is that has her worried. For a moment, she turns into my touch. Soft, warm skin against my calloused fingertips. I keep my touch light even though I'm dying to tunnel my fingers into her hair and taste that full mouth again.

Then she pulls away, and practically dives into the dressing room before shutting the curtain between us. I groan and press my forehead into the wall between the two rooms. This is all going so wrong, and I don't know how to make it right. What the hell is wrong with me?

I don't hear Lennox return until she says from just over my shoulder. “Hate shopping that much, do you?”

“No, it's not … it's nothing.”

She surveys me for a moment; then her eyes flick to the curtain separating me from Kalli. She presses her lips together in contemplation. Then Gwen comes running out with her chosen dress in her hand.

“That's the one?” Lennox asks.

Gwen's nod is vigorous.

“You don't want to try on any of the rest?”

She shakes her head. “Kalli says this one is special.”

Lennox's eyes shoot back to me.

“Okay then. Let's get you two checked out.”

I don't want to go to the front register, but I don't have much of a choice. Lennox is walking away with Gwen's dress, and I'd look a little crazy waiting outside Kalli's dressing room just so I could talk to her again. So with one final glance at the closed curtain, I head toward the front.

While Lennox rings us up, she asks, “So. Do you know Kalli?”

“We've met before. But I don’t think I’d say I
know
her.”

Unless knowing the way she tastes counts. And the way her back arches when she comes. The little panting breaths she makes when she’s almost there. I know those things. Fat lot of good it has done me today.

“Tell me about it. Girl has more secrets than
Lost
. She's hard to pin down.”

So it isn't just me then.

Lennox moves to slip a plastic garment bag over Gwen's dress and says casually, “You should come to Christmas at my place.”

“Uh. I'm sorry. What?”

“Not like … alone or anything. Jesus, I'm not crazy. I'm having an Orphan Christmas for all the people who can't afford or don't want to visit family. Kalli will be there.”

“Really?”

She nods with a knowing smile. “Took me days of prodding to get her to agree to come.”

I’m tempted. So damn tempted.

“I can’t. I’ve got family stuff.”

“So come after. We’re doing a big pot luck dinner, and then we’ll probably stay up late drinking and playing games and watching terrible holiday-themed movies.”

“Yeah?”

In answer, she prints out some extra receipt paper from the register, grabs a pen a writes down her address. We exchange numbers, too. “In case you have any issues,” she says.

She holds the paper out to me, and I take it. “Are you going to tell Kalli I’m coming?”

She scoffs. “Yeah, right. I do know one thing about that girl, and it’s that she goes out of her way not to let anyone too close. And I’m just about ready to strangle her for it. But I think you’re probably a more preferable option.”

“So, you’re helping me? You don’t even know me.”

She shrugs. “I don’t see a lot of dudes come here with little kids. And of the ones that do, there are two kinds. The ones who would give anything to be somewhere else. And the ones who are here because they would give anything for their little girl.”

“She’s not mine,” I remind her.

“Still applies. Even more so considering you’re her brother. I have a brother. A good brother, but I guarantee he would
never
take me shopping.”

I want to tell her that I’m not nearly as good as she’s making me out to be. I might be here with Gwen now, but I was pretty damn absent for the first few years of her life. But I’m selfish enough to want her to like me, so that maybe I’ll have an ally in whatever this thing with Kalli is.

Realizing I still haven’t introduced myself to her, I hold out my hand over the counter and say, “Wilder Bell.”

She takes it, giving my hand a surprisingly firm shake before adding, “Lennox Hastings. Does this mean I’ll be seeing you for Christmas?”

“Yeah. I think you will.” 

Chapter Eleven

Mom's eyes meet mine from her perch on the couch. It's the first time I've seen her out of scrubs in weeks. Mom had been a nurse for nearly a decade, but she quit a few years back when Dad’s business started flourishing. Or when we thought it had anyway. She went from staying at home to working as many hours as she could pack in practically overnight. Out of scrubs, she wears a red holiday sweater, and it makes the paleness of her cheeks stand out even more. Gwen is on the floor in Dora the Explorer pajamas, tearing through the wrapping paper on her present.

We're doing something new this Christmas. Instead of opening all the presents in the morning, we've been spreading them out throughout the day. Mom and I thought it might make up for the fact that there aren't as many presents under the tree as there used to be.

Last year's Christmas had been even more extravagant than usual. Dad had gone on a crazy buying spree, which had included my SUV that was parked outside in the drive. He bought it outright. We probably should have known then that something was up, but Dad had just convinced us that business was good. We should have questioned how his investment business was flourishing at a time when everyone else in the market seemed to be struggling, but when things are good like that, you don't want to go searching for problems.

Me, especially. Dad wasn't on my back to go to college or get a real job or any of that kind of thing. Then it all went away in the blink of an eye. If the SUV hadn't been in my name, they would have taken that too. I'd tried to give it to Mom after news about Dad had come to light, and the bank had repossessed both their vehicles. But she wouldn't have it. She bought a beat up old Camry from a friend at the hospital, and refused to even think about taking the SUV.

“Your father gave you that,” she told me. “I don't know why he did what he did. Don't know how he could convince himself it wasn't wrong, but we've had enough taken from us. It might relieve a little stress to take that vehicle from you, but it wouldn't do a damn thing for the ache in my heart. The only thing that helps with that is having you back here. Having you and Gwen here makes me feel so full, I don't even notice what else is missing.”

Except it's impossible not to notice what's missing now.

Dad is gone. So is the old house.

No more giant Christmas tree with an abundance of decorations. Instead, we've got one of those fake half-size ones, covered not in expensive ornaments, but just the more personal ones. Things I made in school, a few things by Gwen, some candy canes.

But for all the changes, Gwen doesn't seem to notice as she liberates a doll I recognize from some TV show she loves out of its packaging. I cross from my position against the wall, and take a seat on the couch by Mom. I wrap an arm around her shoulder, and pull her close. She leans all her weight into me, and I choke back the emotion building at the back of my throat.

“Christmas is Christmas,” I tell her. “That hasn't changed. It won't change.”

She reaches up to rest a hand against my cheek. Her fingers brush over my unshaven jaw, and she grips my face and looks at me.

“Thank you, Wilder. I know this hasn't been easy. And I know you've given up so much.” Tears well in her eyes, but she presses on, her hold on my jaw tight. “I'm so sorry for that. I'm really close to being back on my feet, and then you can go back to—”

I cut her off by pulling her into a hug.

“Stop, Mom. I'm happy where I am. It was about time I grew up anyway.”

It's one of my unwritten rules that I'll just keep saying that until it's true. One day it will be.

We pass the day together. Mom bakes cookies. We watch Christmas-themed movies on the small TV that came with the furnished apartment. Gwen starts playing with her toys, and Mom and I both get dragged into an imaginary tea party with a few stuffed Disney characters, a Spiderman figurine that Gwen unearthed from a box of my old toys, and a worn out old baby doll that is less cute and more Chucky.

Around nine that night, Gwen finally passes out with her cheek pressed flat against the carpet and Spiderman in her hand.

“I got her,” I tell Mom, and then bend to scoop her up. She flails sleepily in my arms for a moment, fighting my hold before burying her head in my neck and going slack again.

I walk her down the hallway, and into her small bedroom. I balance her in my arms with one hand, and pull back her covers with the other. I lay her down on her mattress as gently as I can, but she still wakes up, peering up at me with bleary eyes. She whines for a second, as if she can’t decide whether she wants to be awake or asleep.

“Are you gonna see Kalli?” she finally asks.

I stiffen, and then pull her covers up to her neck. I’m still out of practice at the whole brother-ing thing. I probably shouldn’t let her get attached to the idea of seeing Kalli again, but hell, I’m not doing a very good job of keeping myself from that.

I finally settle on honesty. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You said you were. At the dress store.”

“I know. I’m still not sure about some things though.”

“I like her. You should have brought her to
our
Christmas.”

Gwen’s cheek is imprinted with the texture of the carpet where she’d fallen asleep, and I run a hand over the reddened skin. “You go to sleep,” I tell her. “And be good for Mom.”

She nods, and falls back asleep with an easiness that I envy.

I sigh, turning on the lamp by her bed that she prefers to keep on, and then leave the door cracked just enough so that Mom can see inside.

I’d been doing my best not to think about Kalli today. One, because the way I feel about her after just a few encounters can’t be healthy. I keep telling myself that I don’t know anything about her, and yet my mind always counters with images of her smile or the way she talks to Gwen or the mischievous and almost hopeful look she’d had right before she turned my own showerhead on me.

Maybe I don’t know her. But I wasn’t lying when I told her that I wanted to. There’s only one other thing I’ve ever wanted this bad, and I gave it up for Mom and Gwen. So even though she ran from me, even though she’s been skittish and distant, I’m still going to go for it. You don’t get a shot at a girl like that every day. Hell, I doubted that most people ever got one. There’s just something about her. I can’t put my finger on it. She puts me at ease, like the way you feel around an old friend, as if there’s no need to pretend, no need to worry about how you’re coming off. And yet at the same time, I’m anything but calm around her. She’s too gorgeous. Too perfect for it not to mess with my nerves.