Kidnapped at the Gun Show [Ransomed Hearts] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (3 page)

“What kind of help can you give me?”

She sounded irritated but curious. Kale let his eyes drift closed for just a moment. They were making progress.

“I can tell you what happened the day before I left town.”

“You mean, the day Kathy told me about your affair?” she said, her voice a ragged whisper of raw pain.

“I didn’t sleep with her, Sara. But I was told you slept with Howard Finch while I was out of town. Hell, I even had pictures of the two of you together. So I didn’t come home, just disappeared and let you do whatever you wanted. But I never stopped loving you.”

“You had pictures of me with Howie?” She sounded incredulous, which made sense. “He was a friend, but we never dated.”

“Yeah, I know. The pictures weren’t real. I know that now. I was hurt. Pissed off. I overreacted.” Kale turned on the bench and faced her, taking her hand. “I used it as an excuse to bolt.”

“Why did you leave?” she asked.

“Our relationship was moving fast and I freaked. I was stupid.”

She tugged until he let go of her hand and moved far enough across the yard to avoid further contact. “Who gave you the pictures?”

“Does it matter?”

“Well, since I have pictures of you with Kathy, yes. It definitely matters.”

“You have pictures of me with Kathy? Impossible. We never dated.”

“Why should I believe you?”

Kale kicked at the gravel path, watching her pace across the small space while he thought about the words he’d have to use. Finally, he decided to screw the rules his grandmother had drummed into him since birth. “Look, what I have to say isn’t pretty, and I apologize up front, okay?” He waited for her nod before continuing. “Kathy was a skank. I know she was your friend, but she spread her legs for just about every man in town. And personally, I’m not interested in everybody else’s leftovers.”

She’d stopped pacing and was staring at him like he’d grown another head. “Sorry, I know it’s not nice to talk about the dead like that, but it’s the truth.”

“What? Kathy’s not dead. She moved to Nevada last year.”

“I was told she died in a car wreck a year after I left town.”

Sara returned to her spot on the bench. “Who’s been telling you these things?”

“Denny Cooper.”

“Interesting. He’s the one with the picture of you and Kathy.” Sara shook her head, sadness washing over her face, and Kale had an immediate urge to punch someone, with Denny high on the list.

“Where can I find the sonuvabitch?”

“He moved to Nevada with Kathy.”

Kale stared at her, both of them fools to believe the stories they were fed. So much time wasted because of lies.

“I shouldn’t have believed his story.” Kale shuffled his boots through the gravel, hoping the worst of the conversation was over.

“Why did they do this? It doesn’t make sense,” Sara asked.

“Hard to tell what motivates some people. Jealousy? Pure meanness?”

Sara sighed. “We were casual friends, not really close, but – wait. You used all this as an excuse for what?”

Busted.

“Honestly, I had some relationship issues to work out. I’ve been figuring things out.”

Sara placed her hand on his knee and squeezed. “Commitment issues?”

“Sort of. I’m working on it.” He tugged at her hands. “It’s been three years. What are we going to do now?”

Her face glowed as regret was wiped away and replaced by a sensual awareness he’d missed for three years. A smile teased at the corners of her mouth, a mouth made to fit his.

“I believe I saw a king-sized bed inside. I wonder how resilient it is.”

Feeling about ten pounds lighter, Sara popped off the bench and headed for the door. He loved her. After months and months of self-doubt and sadness, she felt like a feather floating on a breeze. And the feather was about to get flattened if she didn’t hurry. She could hear Kale’s footfalls as he followed her inside. She sprinted to the bedroom and skidded to a halt.

The bed was turned down, and a large box of condoms was conveniently opened and waiting on the bedside table.

“Sure of yourself?” she asked, facing him. The slow grin was contagious, but she didn’t want to go there. This scene smacked of a setup. “Looks like you had big plans to get me in bed.”

“Can’t blame a man for being prepared, baby.”

And he didn’t look a bit contrite.

“This is why you carried me out of that gun show. You wanted to screw me one more time before you ran off again.”

“No, Sara. Keeping you close is all I plan to do.”

The walls were closing in on her, and so was her throat. She hadn’t seen or heard from him in three years, and she’d just offered to let him into her body. Smooth-talking bastard.

But the things he’d said about Kathy made sense, in a weird, psycho way, and when she added what she already knew, it was reasonable to accept his apology for leaving her.

Damn it. Changing the way she thought about Kale was going to take some time. Should she really let him seduce her into bed? Her body was shouting, “Yes! Yes!” while her brain, the sensible part of her, was putting on the brakes.

Stupid brain.

She backed up until a wall supported her. “I don’t know what to do, Kale.”

To his credit, she didn’t see him nudging her toward the bed. If anything, he was as frozen as she was.

“What do you want to do, Sara?” His tone calmed her a little but didn’t push her one way or the other. This was the man she remembered, the calm, controlled, considerate lover she’d made love with all those years ago.

“I want—I want what we had before.”

His body visibly loosened, the muscles in his arms and chest becoming less rigid as she watched.

“I won’t force you. I hope you know that, Sara.” He moved to the left and sat down on an old wooden kitchen chair someone had placed near the bedroom window. It looked fragile enough to collapse under his weight but didn’t. He almost looked relieved.

Almost.

Was it because the chair held his weight, or because they were working things out?

The bulge in his pants was very evident, the length reminding her of her past life. The time when they were together and sex was hot-and-heavy fun.

Lately, not so much.

In fact, in the three years they’d been apart, she’d slept with a total of two men, both of them unremarkable. Hard to get excited about a new guy when you were still in love with an old flame.

“Sara?”

She jerked her head up, realizing she’d been caught admiring the goods. Kale was grinning like a soap star getting a Daytime Emmy, and her face felt like she’d been sleeping in the sun.

“Umm, sorry?”

He laughed. “Don’t be sorry, honey. Look all you want. In fact, I’ll strip if you want.”

The blush surged outward from her face and covered the rest of her body. She couldn’t see it, but she could certainly feel it.

“Honey, maybe we should put this on hold for a few minutes. How would you feel about a bowl of chili and conversation?”

Sara took a deep breath and let her body relax. “Chili sounds good. And conversation sounds even better.” Maybe getting reacquainted was what they needed more than sex. Sure, the sex would be great when it happened. Of that, she had no doubt.

Kale stood and offered his hand. When she placed her palm in his, the warmth of his skin traveled up her arm and filled her chest. She’d missed this man more than she’d known.

He led her out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, going so far as to pull out a chair at the little table for her. For the first time, the scent of his chili penetrated her glazed-over mind and she realized how hungry she was. Breakfast was a faint memory when she factored in all the events of the day.

She watched Kale move around the small kitchen like he belonged there. The space was compact but surprisingly well appointed. Whoever owned the place liked his creature comforts and could afford to have them wherever he was.

Kale started talking about the chili recipe, joking about how it evolved from a packaged mix to his own special mixture, and she silently thanked him for removing the pressure of immediate sex. Kale had grown since she’d last seen him, not in height or weight but in maturity.

Sara watched him serve her as he spoke, mumbling answers or comments but mostly observing him. He exuded self-confidence but without arrogance or brazen sexuality. Self-assured, controlled, but most of all he appeared happy in his own skin, and she wished she felt the same way.

“Thanks,” she said when he put the bowl in front of her. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was. Guess I was fixated on my anger.”

“Not a surprise. Sorry about kidnapping you, but I was out of options.”

Swallowing quickly, even though the chili was burning a path down her throat, she said, “What?”

“I took some vacation time, hoping to reconnect with you. I’ve been thinking about you. Hell, you’ve been on my mind constantly for a while now.”

“Oh.”

“I hoped to convince you to come home with me. I need you in my life.”

He looked so calm, talking about his feelings. Not the same man who’d walked away without a word. He was more open, quicker to smile now. The years had been good to him. She had no idea how the changes she saw in him had come about, but they were attractive nonetheless. Sara wasn’t sure how to deal with the new and improved Kale. And his request, so carefully couched as a statement, left her speechless.

“I wanted to discuss it with you. After finding out about what our so-called friends did to our relationship, I was hoping we could work things out together.”

Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Sara didn’t want to jump into the river without an idea of how deep it was. She needed a clear picture of what he had in mind. “Explain, please, in simple words. My brain is already a little fried from all these revelations.”

He grinned. “I’m hoping we can explore getting back together or starting over. I’d like a chance at a real relationship with you.”

Kale took another bite of chili, and she waited, wanting to hear more before adding her own thoughts. Well, she had to find her brain first, but it was warming up.

“Once I figured out what Kathy and Howard did, I kept thinking about where we would be now if they hadn’t interfered.”

“It was three years ago, Kale. We’ve both moved on.” Okay, so it was a lie on her part, but he didn’t know it. Didn’t
need
to know it.

“Maybe, but I’d like to get to know you again.” He sipped his iced tea, his expression a little too pensive for her peace of mind. “I’ve changed, Sara. My lifestyle has evolved since I left Dallas. But I’m hoping you’ll be able to embrace the changes. I think we might find what both of us need.” He reached out to stroke the back of her hand where it rested on the table. “Would you be willing to try with me?”

“Okay. I guess we could see where it might lead.” Who was she kidding? She’d never stopped caring about him. “How do we begin?”

“This is working for me.” His honest smile warmed her almost as much as the spicy chili he was feeding her. “Tell me about your life now.”

Well, hell. Now she’d have to say something interesting and all she could think about was her decision to not sleep with him a few minutes ago. At least the sex would have given them something to talk about other than her life so far.

It wasn’t a story she wanted to tell.

“Not much to say, really,” she hedged. “I finished college and found a job managing a small software company.”

“Interesting. What kind of software?”

“I don’t know, really. I just handled the front office. I didn’t get involved with the product.” All he really needed to know for now. She could enlighten him later, if he stuck around long enough. “Anyway, they went out of business about six months ago.”

“You ran them into the ground?” Kale laughed, and she cringed.

“Of course not. I was as surprised as their clients.”

“Sorry.” Kale’s warm palm skated up and down her arm, and it was almost impossible to keep the thread of the conversation in her head.

“It’s okay. You aren’t the only one who went there. Water under the bridge.” Her body language must have keyed him to her unwillingness to discuss it further, because he skipped over most of the expected questions.

“So, what are you doing now?”

“I’m working at a club, doing the books and sometimes working the bar.”

His smile conveyed a lascivious question, one she didn’t want to answer. For some reason, men equated working at a club to stripping, and that was so not the case for her. Taking her clothes off for one man in the privacy of their bedroom was almost too much for her. Teasing and removing clothes for a crowd would be like climbing into a spaceship headed for Mars. Not happening.

Instead of offering any more information, she raised her brows, and he laughed, chuckled, really, and put his hand on hers where it rested on the table. “Okay.”

“We have a couple hours before sundown. Want to take a walk?” he asked.