Only You (10 page)

“Shouldn't her husband help her with that?”

“His names are ridiculous. He wants to name him Pickle.”

“Oh, dear. That's terrible.” She gave him a pout. “I was hoping to come see your new house.”

“Maybe another time.” He flagged down the waiter and asked for the bill.

She leaned over the table, her voice sounding husky. “So do you want to pick me up tomorrow night or should I meet you somewhere?”

“
Excuse me?
”

The waiter brought the check then ran off, looking over his shoulder at Bethany. Kevin pulled cash out of his wallet instead of using his card. He didn't want to wait a second longer than necessary.

“Our next date.”

“Yeah.” He grimaced. “Let me get back to you on that. Matt said something about me pulling a few evening shifts.” He hated lying, but in this instance it was better than telling her
Never, because you're batshit crazy.

She reached across the table for his hand. “Well, at least give me your number so I can call you.”

He tried to look nonchalant as he pulled his hand from hers, sure he wasn't as smooth as he hoped, given his inebriated state. “Why don't you just give me yours? I'm kind of old-fashioned and want to be the one to call.”

“Oh! Okay.” Her face lit up and he felt bad, even though he was more than a little creeped out by her. She reached into her purse and handed him a business card. He wasn't all that surprised to see that it was covered in sparkles.

“Crystal Living Center,” he read.

She pointed to the card. “That's my cell-phone number. I have my phone with me all the time.”

“Got it.” He didn't feel right just leaving her here at the table, yet he didn't want to lead her on even more. His manners won out. “Would you like me to walk you to your car?”

She radiated with happiness. “Of course.”

Guilt washed through him as he walked her out into the hot, humid evening, but there was no turning back from this now. The only other alternative was to try to let her down gently. He stopped at the back of her car, feeling slightly less drunk but nowhere close to being ready to drive. “It was great getting to see you again, but I'm going to be honest—I don't think I'm ready for a relationship yet.”

“Oh.” The light in her eyes dimmed and he felt like a jerk. Damn his mother.

“See, I'm at weird phase in my life right now. I think I need to figure out me and where to go forward before I start something with someone.”

Her smile returned. “You
think
you need to wait?”

Well, shit.

Before he could react, she kissed him hard on the lips, then took a step back. “Challenge accepted.”

Challenge? Shit! “Bethany!”

But she had already gotten into her car and gave him a little wave through the side window.

Frustrated, he spun around, almost falling over from his screwed-up equilibrium, and headed straight for his sister's car, which had just pulled up to the curb in front of the restaurant.

She was giggling when he climbed into the passenger seat. “Is that your date? She's very pretty.”

“She's batshit crazy—on a level that astounds even me. And that's saying something.”

She took off her sunglasses and gave him the once-over. “She must be crazy if
you
drank too much to cope, Mr. I'm Always in Control. How many drinks did you have, anyway?”

“Too many.”

“That much is obvious.” She slid her glasses onto her nose and shifted her car into gear. “You want me to take you home or to Mom's so you can lynch her?”

“As tempting as the lynching is, home.”

She shot him a grin. “Oh, I was really looking forward to the lynching.”

“I can't believe she did this. I had no idea. She told me to meet her and Dad for dinner, and instead Bethany showed up.”

Megan turned onto the main street. “Oh,
I
believe it. She's desperate for you to get married and have kids. She's tired of waiting so she's taking matters into her own hands.”

“By setting me up with a crazy woman?”

“Why are you so surprised? Crazy doesn't recognize crazy.”

Oh, my God. She was right. He was crazy, too. Otherwise he would have seen the signs in Lacy and all the previous crazy girls before her.

Unaware of his inner turmoil, Megan moved on to another topic. “How was your first couple of days working with Matt?” Megan shifted her gaze to him, then back to the road. “I hadn't thought about him owning a construction company. Does that mean he's going to help you work on the house?”

He leaned his head back into the seat and wished Megan's car would stop spinning. “Matt's given me some pointers, but I haven't had a chance to do anything yet. I've been too busy returning dishes to my cute neighbor and going on blind dates with women our mother picks out.”

She grinned. “I want to hear more about your cute neighbor.”

“There's nothing to tell.” He closed his eyes. Last night he'd argued with himself all the way home from his dinner with his friends. He'd convinced himself to dump the rest of the lasagna, rinse out the pan, then take it over to her—and then made himself go home before he molested her right there on her front porch. What kind of guy would he be if he hadn't helped her climb in her window? Of course, checking out her ass and touching the bare skin of her abdomen had been a bonus. But tonight with Bethany had been the reminder he needed to stay the course of the bachelor brotherhood. “I'm giving up women. They're all bonkers.”

“Hey!”

“You bought me a piece-of-shit house without my consent. You qualify as crazy.”

She paused. “I suppose I deserve that.”

“I have to have a talk with Mom. Setting me up on blind dates is unacceptable.”

“And throwing me a baby shower I don't want
is
? Not to mention that she's hounding me to tell her if it's a boy or a girl. Why can't she accept that Josh and I don't want to know?”

“You're comparing my situation to a
baby shower
? Please. That date ranked up there in the top three worst dates
ever
. She's into crystals, and nonfighting food, and English-speaking wine.”

“
What?
”

He shook his head. “Whatever. My date was
way
worse than a stupid baby shower.”

She pulled up to a stoplight and stared at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? You saw the fiasco she made of the family party before my wedding. And we won't even go into the fiasco at Blair's wedding shower. This is a bigger disaster.”

“Give me a break,” he scoffed.

“Fine. You think it's not so bad, then you come to the shower and see for yourself.”

“To a baby shower? No way.” He was still trying to get out of playing bartender. If Megan found out their mother had roped him in, she'd make sure there was no way he could get out of it.

“Then good luck on your second date with Crazy Pants.”

He sat up. “What's that mean?”

“It means come to my shower, and I'll get Mom to back off.”

He scoffed his disbelief. “You can't get her to promise that.”

She rested her hand on her belly. “No, but her grandbaby can.”

His eyes narrowed. “Now
you're
crazy.”

“Trust me on this.” They drove the rest of the way in silence until she parked in his driveway. “Hey, how's your kitten doing?”

“It's not
my
kitten, and it's doing just fine. I locked it up in the unfinished basement this morning since it's hot as hell in my un-air-conditioned
piece-of-shit house
.”

A grin spread across her face.

“It's not funny, Megan.”

“Kevin, just trust me on this, okay?”

“No.” He opened the car door and stomped up to the front door.

“Kevin!” She followed behind him, then took his keys as he fumbled with the lock. She got the door open, then looked down at the porch. “You fixed the hole.”

“I can't have Girl Scouts suing me after they break their leg when they show up trying to sell me cookies, can I?”

“You have months until it's Girl Scout cookie season.”

He groaned and leaned his head against the door frame, but she pulled him into a hug.

“Trust me.”

“You keep saying that, but I'm still in a shit hole.”

She laughed and kissed his cheek. “Josh and I will come help you on Sunday. If you come to the shower on Saturday.”

“That again?”

She gave him an ornery smile.

He was figuring out that his little sister was used to getting what she wanted. No sense making it easy for her. “I'll think about it.”

“I'll take that.” Then she kissed his cheek again and walked down the steps. “Now go drink some water and take some aspirin. You're gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow.”

Dammit. She was right.

He was going to kill his mother.

H
olly should have been happy. The lawyer had deemed the Johansen contract good, and the meeting with Coraline had gone better than expected. Nicole had seemed pleased when they left, and had even insisted that Holly was the perfect designer for the wedding.

So now she sat at her kitchen table with her laptop open and a notebook full of ideas. Surprisingly, it had all come together fairly quickly. The vineyard had been the key; that and a photo of Coraline with her fiancé that Holly had seen at Miranda's house.

Coraline and Donald had met in Italy and attended a wine tasting at a vineyard for their first date. The wedding dress Miranda had designed was the clincher. It was a classic design—a tight-fitting dress made of satin with sheer net over the back with cloth-covered buttons. The bottom had a slight flare like a mermaid style. Miranda explained that she had kept the dress simple, to fit in with Coraline's ever-changing themes. Holly planned to suggest that Coraline wear a veil with Italian lace to help pull the dress into the theme.

An outdoor Tuscan-themed wedding could work perfectly with the venue, the dress, and the bride's surprising sentimentality when she discussed her first date with her fiancé. But, just as importantly, Holly was certain she could pull it off in the three-week time frame. And it would photograph well for both the wedding photos and the magazine spread.

If Miranda lived up to her end of the bargain of keeping Coraline from changing her mind after she'd given her approval, and Nicole remained happy, this could end up being an amazing opportunity.

So she had no reason to be sitting at her kitchen table feeling unsettled. Especially when her unease had nothing to do with her job and everything to do with the guy next door.

Melanie had come through on her end and made pasta salad and pita sandwiches, placing them on their nicest Target plate. Not only could Mel cook, but she styled food as well. She was definitely wasting her talents as a bartender. But Holly couldn't quite bring herself to take the plate next door.

She gulped down the rest of her wine as her practicality warred with some deep, dark desire. But desire for what, exactly? A relationship? A romp? She didn't know him well enough to want a relationship with him, which meant this yearning had to be chemistry. That was a good thing, right? She'd never felt it with anyone else before, and honestly, who knew if she ever would again. Her friends—who had all gotten married and were having kids—used to talk about how a guy would make them weak in the knees, but that had never happened to Holly until Kevin.

And damned if she wasn't curious about what else he could make her feel.

Before she could change her mind, she grabbed the plate and marched over to his house, knocking on the door. As she waited, she glanced over at the driveway and realized his car wasn't there.

A hot guy like Kevin didn't stay home on Friday nights.

Feeling like a fool, she went back home and poured another glass of wine before she sat at her dining room table, photos of bouquets and wedding cakes spread around like scattered flower-girl petals. For the first time she allowed herself to admit her discontent. She wanted to experience the happiness that filled her wedding couples. She didn't even need her own happily-ever-after. She was willing to try a happily-for-now.

Killer started barking, pawing at the front window. Pushing out a sigh, Holly went to investigate. What if someone was breaking into one of the neighbors' cars? Or, worse, into their house?

At first she couldn't see what Killer was barking at, and then she saw an older SUV parked in Kevin's driveway. The overgrown trees blocked part of her view, but she saw a man walking to the front porch and a woman in a loose-fitting dress following behind. Did he have a girlfriend?

Unable to stop herself, she opened the front door and moved to a wicker chair on her small front porch. She could see two figures in front of Kevin's door, embracing. Then the woman went down the steps and stood at the bottom, turning back to him before she walked back to her car, and Holly suddenly realized she had just turned into a stalker. She was literally spying on her neighbor.

That man was screwing with her head.

She went inside and stared at the images on her table. For the first time ever, she couldn't get excited about her job. She couldn't work on celebrating someone else's love when she was overcome with a loneliness she'd ignored for too long.

Holly grabbed her wineglass, then called the dog. “Killer, let's go outside.” Then, as an afterthought, she grabbed the box of wine and headed out the back door.

The eager dog bolted past her on the way out. Holly planted herself in a chair, dangling her feet into the wading pool. It was too hot to be outside, but she needed her Zen spot and the water helped cool her off. She finished her half-empty glass, then poured another.

Who
was
she tonight?

Leaning her head back against the chair, she closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of the roses and the honeysuckle her grandmother had planted years ago, letting her mind wander. Of course he had a girlfriend. Gorgeous guys like Kevin weren't single. On the bright side, maybe this meant she'd unlocked some secret door to her libido. She could look for someone else.

Killer suddenly released a low growl, sounding totally unlike himself. Holly jerked upright, knocking her glass off the arm of the chair and onto her lap. Shrieking from the shock of the wine drenching her skirt, she scrambled off the chair as she realized she could only see Killer's butt. His front half was on the other side of the fence that separated her yard from her new neighbor's. At the same time, she heard a man shouting and then the startled shrieks of a cat.

A cat?

Killer's growl deepened and his back legs scratched at the ground beneath him in an effort to get through the hole. “Killer! No!” she shouted, dashing toward him. “Come!”

The dog was more enticed with what was on the other side of the fence than the possibility of turkey and puffed-cheese snacks. The rising squalls of the cat seemed to encourage his efforts, and he pushed himself the rest of the way through just as she reached him.

“Shit!” a male voice shouted on the other side of the wooden privacy fence.

Killer's growls turned to barking, and the cat now shrieked in panic.

“Killer!” She ran for the gate to the front yard, fumbling with the latch before getting it open. She didn't wait for an invitation, just opened her neighbor's gate and burst through.

Kevin was standing in the middle of the yard with his back to her. The dog was barking at his feet, and a small gray kitten perched on top of his shoulder, its back arched.

“Killer!” she shouted in horror and started to run for him, but Kevin turned at the sound of her voice and she froze, her heart jolting at the sight of him.

He was even more sexy than the last two times she'd seen him. How was that possible?

He studied her, too, and she realized he might not recognize her. The times he'd seen her she'd been in shorts, makeup free, and sporting a ponytail or bun. Now she was in her work clothes—minus her shoes—and her hair was down, hanging several inches below her shoulders.

The sight of the bleeding scratch on his cheek caught her attention, pushing her into action. “Oh, my God. I am so sorry!” She scooped the dog off the ground, holding him close to her side as she looked into his face. “Killer! Bad dog!”

She turned her attention to Kevin again, close enough to see that his eyes were a darker brown tonight, and they looked slightly unfocused.

The kitten on his shoulder looked panicked and dug his claws deeper into Kevin's shoulder, making him cringe.

“I am
so
sorry,” Holly gushed. “Killer's not mean, I promise. He's so small he likes to bluff everyone.”

“I noticed that last night.” Kevin pried the cat off his shoulder, giving an additional tug to get its claws free of his blue dress shirt. He wore a tie, too, a dark gray charcoal. So he dressed up for dates. That only intrigued her even more. “I think he found someone smaller to intimidate.” He got the kitten free and held it close to his chest, the animal's feet dangling free.

Holly's last defense against him slipped away. The sight of the tall, strong man cradling a tiny kitten was impossible to resist.

Killer started barking again and Holly turned him around to look into his face. “
Stop.
”

The dog lowered his gaze and stopped barking.

“He likes turkey,” she said in response, then realized how random it sounded. “He belongs to my cousin. She trained him with deli turkey.”

“The one who made the lasagna?” When she nodded, a slight grin tipped up the corners of his mouth. “Then I might be able to overlook the attack.”

Attack? “Oh, God! Did he bite you? He's never bitten anyone before!”

“Oh, no. Wrong choice of words. You'll have to forgive me.” His grin turned sheepish. “I'm more than a little drunk.”

“Oh.”

He frowned as though deciding he shouldn't have been so blunt, so she piped up. “I'm slightly tipsy myself.”

“Bad day?” he asked.

“No, actually a good one.” Probably the best she'd had with her boss since she'd first started working for her.

“So a celebration?”

She couldn't very well tell him she'd been drinking because of him. “Yeah. You?”

“Coping skills.”

The woman had brought him home, then left him while he was drunk. Did they have a fight? It seemed rude to ask, yet she was dying to know. “Because of your girlfriend?”

He snorted. “I don't have a girlfriend.”

Because they broke up or because they weren't together in the first place? She decided to be bold and ask—figure out her chances here—but he reached up to his cheek, gently patting the scratch.

“You need to clean that,” she said, taking a step closer to look it over, but the dog started barking again. She looked down at him. “
Stop.
” The dog obeyed and she continued. “Who knows what germs are in that kitten's claws?” she said, feeling more courageous than her usual self.
Thank you, wine
. “We can't have your pretty face getting eaten by flesh-eating bacteria.”

His eyes danced with amusement. “You think I have a pretty face?”

She laughed. “I find it interesting that you pick up on
that
part of the sentence and not the flesh-eating bacteria.”

“Does your dog always obey you?”

“Obviously not, or he wouldn't have gotten back here in the first place.”

The amusement in his eyes faded, turning dark and sultry. “I'm glad he did.”

She looked away, suddenly unsure of herself. But his face was still bleeding and needed attention and, honestly, it was her fault. If she'd been paying attention, Killer might not have gotten through the fence and scared his cat. “Do you have a first aid kit in your house?”

He laughed. “I don't have shit in my house.”

“So that's a no?” She grinned. “Come over to mine and let me clean you up.”

He looked uncertain, and she realized she may have overstepped her bounds.

“You don't have to…I…”

His eyes found hers. “I don't want to leave the cat.” He lifted it slightly. “I've been gone all day and just got home and now it's shaking. …” His voice trailed off, then he laughed. “If my friends could hear me now. I think this is the literal definition of pussy whipped.”

Her cheeks heated up and he stared at her in amazement. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Look so sexy and so innocent at the same time.”

Her blush deepened, but she told herself that he was drunk and didn't know what he was saying. “You can bring your kitten with you, if you want. Or I can bring the first aid kit over here.”

“What about your dog?”

“If he continues to terrorize the cat, then I'll shut him into Mel's room or put him in the backyard. But I think he'll just get used to him…or is it a her?”

“I'm not sure.”

“You don't know if it's a boy or girl?”

He looked embarrassed. “I can't tell.”

She laughed. “The vet didn't tell you?”

His eyes widened. “Shit. I suppose I need to make an appointment.” When he saw her surprise, he said, “The kitten came with the house.”

“You negotiated it into the contract?”

“No, I found it under the front porch.”

Realization hit her. “Oh. The hole.”

He sighed. “The hole.”

“It was trapped down there? Poor baby.” But his actions told her a lot about his character, even if the way he protectively held it now hadn't. An unexpected heat washed through her, pooling in her core, and she told herself it was the alcohol. “Bring the cat and I'll clean you up.”

She didn't give him a chance to answer, just turned around and headed to her house, leaving him to follow or not.