The Best Bride (35 page)

He shifted on his chair and leaned forward. Before she knew what he was going to do, he reached out his hand and touched her fingers. Sandy told herself to pull back. Except she couldn't. Sparks leapt between them. She was surprised when she didn't actually see them arcing across the table. A warm feeling of lethargy moved up her arm, heating her blood and making her yearn for something more. Something…dangerous.

The cartoon video played on in the background. She could hear her children talking. Beyond the house were the sounds of the night. A car driving by, crickets chirping. She felt caught in some powerful force. Slowly, she raised her gaze from the table to Kyle's chest, then higher to his face.

Stubble shaded his jaw. There was a dab of paint on one cheek. His eyes darkened to the color of a midnight sky. Her gaze dropped to his mouth and the shape of his lips. She wondered what it would be like to be kissed by that mouth. Kyle had probably kissed hundreds of women. She'd kissed about five men. No doubt she would be completely out of her league. Still, the thought had merit.

Tension crackled around them. She wanted to lean closer, but the table was too long. She thought about getting up and walking over to him. Would he pull her close and kiss her? Would he hold her in his arms and—

He yawned.

Sandy straightened, blinking frantically as if she'd just been doused with a bucket of cold water. “I hope I'm not keeping you up,” she snapped.

“No.” He covered his mouth with his hand and yawned again. “It's not you. I pulled a double shift last night. Normally it doesn't bother me, but I didn't get any sleep today. Sorry.”

“You haven't had any sleep since the night before last?”

He shook his head. “It's catching up with me.”

Now that she looked closer, she could see faint shadows under his eyes. There were lines of weariness around the mouth she'd been admiring.

“I should have realized,” she said, rising to her feet. “I'll get the kids and we'll go.”

“They can finish their movie.”

“Nonsense. They've seen it before. You need to be in bed.”

She hoped he couldn't tell what image had sprung to her head at the word
bed.
It was too embarrassing. She'd been sitting there having incredibly erotic thoughts, and he'd been struggling to stay awake. Figures.

“Okay,” he said, standing. “I'm pretty tired. But I'll be back tomorrow to finish the painting.”

“You don't have to.”

“I want to.”

“But, I—”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her close. Kyle did a whole lot of touching, she thought, wondering if she should step back or just plain give in. Her body was already humming. Jeez, she'd spent the last two years without a single sexual thought, but since arriving in Glenwood, she couldn't get sex off her brain.

“You talk too much,” he said lazily. “In my experience,
women who talk too much are generally hiding something.”

“I'm not one of your women.” She jerked her hand free, but didn't step back. “I don't have anything to hide and I don't want anything, so don't waste any of your smooth, practiced lines on me.”

“I promise.” He made an X over his chest, then stared down at her. “You have the most beautiful eyes.”

“I thought you just promised you weren't going to try any of your lines on me.”

“It's not a line, it's the truth. Green is one of my favorite colors.”

She stared up at him, immobilized. She told herself to run. This wasn't happening, and if it was, it was happening too fast. She couldn't get involved with Kyle Haynes. He would use her and dump her. He was irresponsible, immature. She didn't need any more children in her life.

But the feelings he aroused in her were far from maternal. She felt trapped by the heat of his gaze. Or maybe it was her own stupidity that kept her standing so close to him, staring into his dark eyes and praying he would just kiss her and get it over with.

“Kyle, this is a mistake,” she said desperately as his head lowered toward hers.

“Tell me about it. But I've been waiting sixteen damn years for this, so either run or pucker up.”

“S
ixteen years?” Sandy asked, staring at him. He couldn't have meant what he'd said. Kyle had been waiting to kiss
her?
“What are you talking about?”

“It's not important.”

Nothing in his expression gave away what he was thinking. His mouth was still impossibly tempting, his gaze steady. She must have misunderstood him. But for a brief moment, she desperately wished it had been true. That Kyle had thought of her and longed for her all this time.

Get a grip on reality, she told herself. Kyle had no more spent the last sixteen years missing her than pigs had suddenly sprouted wings and taken flight.

So why was he staring at her so intently? And why were they still standing close enough for their bodies to generate the heat required to start a bonfire?

She told herself she was a fool, but that wasn't new information. She'd suspected it for a long time.
She continued to stare at his face, then lowered her gaze to his mouth. With every bit of energy she could summon, she willed him to kiss her.

He bent forward, lowering his head until their lips nearly brushed. She could inhale the masculine scent of him, feel his sweet breath on her cheek. She could almost—

“Mommy, can we go get some ice cream?”

Nichole's voice cut through the silence in the kitchen. Sandy stepped back at the exact moment Kyle shook his head and straightened. She glanced over her shoulder, but the doorway to the living room was empty. Nichole hadn't seen anything.

“Ah, sure, honey,” Sandy called.

She walked around Kyle and stepped into the other room. All three children were sitting on the floor facing the television. They didn't know what had almost happened. Relief swept through her, leaving her a little shaky. At least she told herself it was relief. The tremors in her legs couldn't possibly be the result of her having just been so close to Kyle.

“Let's go now,” she said.

Lindsay glanced up at her. “The movie isn't over yet.”

“I know, but you can finish it another time. It's getting late, and Kyle needs his rest. He was up working all last night.”

Lindsay grumbled something under her breath, then stood up. Blake joined her without saying a word. Nichole turned off the video and the television, then bounced to her feet. “I want chocolate ice cream.”

“No problem,” Sandy said. She pushed the children through the kitchen, barely stopping long enough to thank Kyle for his help that day. Once outside, she took a deep breath and sent off a brief prayer of thanks that nothing had happened. If she was this nervous and shaky after
almost
kissing him, imagine what she would have been like after the real thing!

* * *

Sandy was avoiding him. Kyle dipped the brush into the can of paint, then wiped off the excess. There was no denying the truth. If he walked into a room, she walked out. Aside from mumbling a greeting to him that morning, she hadn't said a word to him. Not even to ask him how he liked his coffee. She must have asked Travis, because shortly after he'd started work, she'd silently handed him a cup, then disappeared before he could say anything. He'd taken a sip of the steaming liquid. Black, two sugars. Yup, she was avoiding him.

He glanced around the bedroom he was painting. He was about finished with the windows and the trim. Next, he would use a roller on the walls. Conversation and bits of laughter drifted up from downstairs. He knew Travis was still working down there, as were Sandy and her kids. Austin was up here with him, but in another bedroom. Kyle didn't mind the quiet, but it gave him too much time to think. About Sandy and about last night.

He shouldn't have tried to kiss her. He wouldn't have except she'd been looking at him the way a woman looks at a man she's attracted to. He was familiar with the look. He'd been getting it from women since he'd turned sixteen. It had never been anything but a convenience before. Yet last night he'd been glad Sandy was attracted to him. He'd wanted to kiss her, even knowing her kids were in the other room. Not his brightest idea. From what he remembered—and it didn't look as if she'd changed all that much—Sandy wasn't the type to fool around. Besides, she'd only been back a week. What did he really know about her?

Kyle pushed open the window, then painted over the smudge mark his fingers had made. A breeze blew into the
room, chasing out the paint fumes. He set his brush on the newspaper that covered the floor and poured some paint into a tray. After screwing the extension into the roller, he started painting the ceiling.

The smooth back-and-forth movements relaxed him and freed his mind to wander. Last night, Sandy had filled his senses. Even after she'd left his house, he'd been able to inhale the scent of her body and feel her close to him. There was something about her that got to him. In sixteen years, that hadn't changed. He still remembered the first time he'd seen her. Jordan had brought her home one day after school. Kyle had been sitting at the kitchen table working on his algebra homework. The door had opened and the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen had walked into his life.

It had been spring, and warmer than usual. She'd been wearing a green dress, the exact color of her eyes. Even now, he could remember every detail about that moment. The way she'd hesitated before stepping into the kitchen, the brush of her light brown hair against her shoulders, the curiosity shining from her eyes, the way the neckline of her dress had dipped slightly, exposing nothing, but making him think about her body. He had reacted to his thoughts in a painful and embarrassing way. When he'd wanted to politely stand and greet her, he'd had to stay seated.

She'd carried her books in her arm. His brother had been holding her other hand. Kyle remembered staring at their joined hands and feeling as if he'd been punched in the stomach. The most beautiful girl in the world belonged to his brother. It was hopeless. Then she'd smiled at him. A warm, wide smile that had made him forget to breathe. After that, he hadn't cared about anything but her.

He was sure Jordan had introduced them, although he couldn't remember the conversation. He'd recognized her
name. She was known as “a brain.” Sensible Sandy. Travis had teased Jordan about dating her, asking if she organized his kisses the way she organized everything else. Kyle hadn't paid attention to the good-natured ribbing. He'd never understood his brother's interest in girls. Until that day.

He dipped the roller in the tray, then continued working on the ceiling. It had all happened a long time ago, yet that afternoon had been one of those significant moments that had changed his life. He'd never looked at girls the same. He'd started returning some of the teasing smiles sent his way. He'd stolen his first kiss, his first embrace, had wished for his first lover, although that hadn't happened for a few more years. But through it all, he'd dreamed of Sandy.

All this time later, he still wasn't sure what it was about her that got to him. To him, she was beautiful, but he knew most people didn't share his opinion. Her strength and intelligence had scared off lots of guys. He'd wanted to tell her it didn't scare him; he'd admired her. But she wouldn't have cared. He was two years younger than her. Now it didn't matter, but when she'd been sixteen and he'd been fourteen, those two years had seemed like an uncrossable barrier. When he'd finally gathered the courage to speak to her, she'd been friendly but not interested. He was just her boyfriend's kid brother.

He drew the roller across the flat ceiling toward the corner. He'd used the brush to paint along the edges and now he blended the paint to make a smooth coat. He grinned as he recalled how happy he'd been the day Jordan had announced he'd broken up with Sandy. The woman of his dreams was now available. He'd quickly realized not only was he too young to ask her out, but now she would stop coming to the house and he wouldn't get to see her at all.
He'd spent the next few months standing outside the high school hoping for a glimpse of her.

It had been a year later that he'd walked into his kitchen and found Sandy talking with Jordan. His heart had thudded wildly in his chest, his face had flushed and his voice, which had changed two summers before, had started cracking again. For a horrible moment, he'd thought they were back together again. He quickly found out they were just friends. For reasons he could never understand, Sandy had preferred his house to her own. She'd spent much of her senior year hanging out with the Haynes brothers. By then, Kyle had been fifteen, and a high school student. By taking inconvenient routes to classes, he caught glimpses of Sandy during the day. She was nice to him, friendly but never encouraging. No matter what he did, she never really saw him as anything but Jordan's kid brother.

One night, when his mom had gone to a parent-teacher meeting, Sandy had volunteered to cook dinner. While she'd watched over a pot roast, he'd wrestled with an essay for English. Sandy had sat next to him and helped him. She'd leaned close, pointing out the awkward construction and mismatched sentences. He'd barely been able to write, with her right next to him. The scent of her body had driven him wild. He'd wanted to kiss her, to touch her, to do anything to let her know how he felt. He could still remember the freckles on her nose and the light in her eyes as she'd smiled at him.

Their arms had brushed together. Electricity had raced through him, from his head to his toes. When the paper was finished, he'd waited for her to move away, but she hadn't. He'd stretched his arms wide, yawning exaggeratedly, then he'd casually dropped his arm over her shoulders. He'd hugged several girls by then, but with Sandy he felt as if he were doing it for the first time. He couldn't think of
anything to say. His mouth had gone dry, his tongue twisted up. She'd turned slightly toward him, her smile soft and knowing.