Bliss Series Boxed Set: The Whole Damn Harem (40 page)

“I will. See you Monday?”

“Sure. I’m going to stay and go chat to that gorgeous bartender over there.” He looks over my shoulder and winks.

I glance behind us to see a young, tanned man giving Nathan a flirty grin from behind the bar. “I see,” I say with a smile before leaning over and kissing his cheek.

“You catching a cab?”

“Of course. Safety first.”

I leave Nate behind with his barman, and luckily find a taxi waiting right outside the bar. On the ride home, everything Nate said hits me like a steam train. Is it my fault I’m single? Am I too closed off, too cautious, too boring even? Why are all my friends hooking up and not me?

Maybe my man radar is broken beyond repair. Maybe I’m destined to live a life filled with self-induced orgasms and doting on my best friend’s baby.

Would that make me happy? Would I be fulfilled?

God! I’ve had too much wine to be thinking about life’s big questions.

With a heavy heart, and my emotions threatening to bubble over, I walk into my apartment to find Zander watching a baseball game. His long tanned legs stretched out along the couch, his arm propped up under his head.

“Hey,” I say, putting my purse down on the kitchen counter. Scanning the room, I’m surprised to find it sparkling clean. “Wow, you must’ve been bored today to clean up in here. Thank you, though. I appreciate it.”

He rolls onto his stomach and catches me with a piercing gaze. “You’re welcome, babe. Have you eaten?”

“No, but I’ll grab something later. I’m just going to get changed.” My voice cracks and I know he catches it. His brows furrow as he studies me, his face filling with concern.

“Kate, What’s wr-”

“It’s fine, Zan. I’ll be out soon,” I say before I rush down the hallway to my room.

Throwing my heels and work clothes off, I put on a tank and yoga pants, then collapse on my bed. Crying into my pillow, I let out everything that has been bottling up for the past few months; missing my best friend, my own feelings of inadequacy, being alone. Everything.

An hour later, I hear a soft knock on the door, and through blurry eyes I see Zander walking toward me. The bed shifts as he sits in the curve of my hips. I watch as he leans over and brushes my hair off my face and behind my ear.

“What’s wrong?” he says, his voice soft and comforting. Everything I think.

“I….I’m fine, really,” I reply.

“You can talk to me, you know. I want to help.”

“I’m okay, or I will be. I think I just need to be alone.” My voice is still shaky, and I can tell by the look on his face that he’s not buying it.

“I know what you need, Fire...babe. Will you let me take care of you?”

I nod, not sure what he’s talking about, but being too emotionally spent to contemplate anything other than accepting whatever he’s about to do for me.

“Pancakes.”

I shake my head. I totally misheard him. I must have. “What?”

“Pancakes for dinner. I come from a family of women. When one of them was hurt, upset, or even just a little bit down, we’d have pancakes for dinner. It’s a weird Roberts’ tradition. Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

He gives me a womb clenching smile, and I know I’m in trouble. He’s helping me, caring for me, and I can’t resist it.

“Okay.”

“Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover”

Zander

I know that something is up when she gets home a few hours after finishing work. The look on her face says it all. Most women can hide their emotions, but not my firebird. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and I’ll tell you, it tears me up to see the look on her face. Her eyes are what kill me. She is hugging herself as she talks to me, thanking me for cleaning up as if it is totally unexpected. I’d wanted her to be surprised, but I hadn’t expected her to brush me off for dinner, then disappear into her room for an hour.

Earlier in the day, I’d logged in Chicago Singles and replied to Kate’s message.

Nightdancer23:
Hi. I’m sorry if I said anything to offend you or step over the line. I really just wanted to get to know you. I know our convo got a little out of hand last week, but I liked it, and I like talking to you. It’s not a line when I say that I want to get to know you, the real you. And I want to show you who I really am. I hope everything is okay.

I figured that laying it all out—well, everything except who I really am—would get a response from her or at least an acknowledgement that she’s still talking to me.

Now, with Kate home and upset, I grab my phone, feeling like a total loser for not
knowing what to do.

Zander:
Kate came home upset and has been in her room for over an hour. What do I do?

Mac:
IS SHE OKAY?

Zander:
I don’t know. She came home late from work, thanked me for cleaning the house, then said she was going to get out of her work clothes. She was barely holding in tears, babe. She needs you.

Mac:
No, she needs you. Go to her. You’ve got sisters, you’ll sort it out. Just do something; otherwise I’ll be forced to come over and kick your ass. And my ass is comfortably placed in Daniel’s lap right now. Get the picture?

Zander:
Too much information, Mac. Okay, I’m going in.

Mac:
You’re welcome, by the way ;)

I walk down the hallway and knock on the door, opening it slowly. My eyes widen when I see her curled up on top of her bed, staring at the wall. Straight away I think that someone has hurt her, and I ball my fists, immediately wanting to inflict pain on whoever has done this to her.

Then it came to me; pancakes.

Pancakes for dinner. It was Mom’s go to meal when any of us was feeling down. It never failed to get us talking and smiling again. And I want to give that to Firebird.

I almost fucked up and called her that. Damn, that wouldn’t have gone over well. I feel bad for the deception, but seeing her so upset tonight, I want...no, I need her to want me for me before I come clean. I just hope that the stolen glances, the shower incident—god, that was hot and has been on repeat in my head every night since—and even the look she gave me tonight where she was shocked and grateful, mean as much to her as they have to me.

“Pancakes.”

She shook her head a little, her gorgeous face frowning up at me. “What?” she asks, her voice hoarse.

“Pancakes, for dinner. I come from a family of women. When one of them was hurt, upset, or even just a little bit down, we’d have pancakes for dinner. It’s a weird Roberts’ tradition. Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” I smile down at her, waiting for an answer. She looks so vulnerable right now, her blue eyes wet with tears which have tracked down her cheeks. I hate seeing her like this, so upset, hurt. Right now, all I want to do is scoop her up and take care of whatever is upsetting her. It’s my nature; what I’ve always done. And with Kate, I’d slay dragons to put a smile on her face.

Fuck, that’s corny.

“Okay,” she says breathlessly.

It takes all my will power not to lean down and kiss her right then and there. With her lying down, her eyes looking up at me expectantly, I notice her breathing pick up, and her eyes dilate. Holy shit, she’s thinking along the same lines as I am. I have to stay strong because now is not the time to lose myself in her.

I take a deep breath and stand up. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen, babe, ten minutes. Prepare to be ah… amazed.” I trip over my words as I try to get myself together. If ever I needed a sign from Kate, it was now. And that was as big a sign as any.

“Thanks, Zan, for being here,” she replies sweetly, her smile hits me like a shot to the heart, and groin. I’ve been struggling not to show her how hard I am, and standing in her bedroom with her dressed in a tight tank and yoga pants is not helping the situation.

I turn and walk out to the kitchen. It’s time. This is my in. What did Mom say? You listen, you ask questions, and you woo. Well, I’m about to add the woo factor into the equation.

Kate

There’s something different about Zander tonight. I can’t put my finger on it, but he’s being attentive, engaging, and I wouldn’t be alive if I couldn’t admit that seeing his ass in my kitchen was all kinds of hot. I can’t tell you the images running through my mind, but the possibilities are endless. I’ve been sitting here for a while now. After the ten minute head start I gave him, I splashed water on my face to make myself look semi normal, then wandered out to the kitchen, sat myself down on a stool and watched him prepare pancakes and cook bacon.

“You like eggs?”

I blink out of my revelry. “Ah, yes. Love them.”

“Poached or fried?”

“Fried, please.”

“I love that.”

“What?”

He spins around and smiles at me, a huge grin that lights up the room. “You love food, and I love that. Do you know how annoying it is when a woman only wants salad and diet everything?”

I giggle because I totally agree with his statement. Let’s be honest, I do love my food. “What can I say?” I shrug and grin back at him.

“Damn cute,” he murmurs under his breath as he turns around to flip a pancake.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” I say with bated breath. Totally not where I saw this night going. I was set to cry myself to sleep, or steal ice cream from the freezer and eat my way through a tub of chunky monkey to find absolution.

“Good to hear, babe,” he says with a chuckle as he removes the pancake, adding it to the growing stack beside him, and pours another one.

“Where did you learn to cook?” I ask, stealing a piece of bacon he stupidly left on the counter in front of me. Mac obviously never told him about our love affair with all things bacon.

“My mom. I’ve got three sisters, and being the only boy, she wanted to make sure I could take care of myself in case I never found a woman for the job. She’s always asking when I’m going to find a nice girl to look after me.”

“Sounds eerily similar to my mom. She thinks I need taking care of too,” I add wistfully.

“She’s right,” he replies, flooring me.

“Maybe. But the pressure to be perfect like my older brothers gets a bit old, you know?”

“Yes, try being the oldest with three younger sisters and becoming the man of the house at thirteen years old. I was just learning to be a man myself while also looking out for the four most important women in the world to me, my mom included.”

“Wow. That’s huge, Zan.”

“Yeah, had to be done. Wouldn’t change a thing. Is that what tonight was about? The pressure to be perfect? Babe, nobody is perfect, but you’ll always be perfect for someone.”

“Yes and no. I’ve been bottling up a lot of stuff for a long time. Tonight, it all kind of bubbled over.”

He turns to bring the eggs to the counter before leaning down and pulling out the plates and cutlery.

“Oh, shit. I should be helping with that.”

“No, you shouldn’t. The rule with pancakes for dinner is that the person who needs it does nothing but sit there and look pretty. And you’re doing a fine job of that.”

I feel heat creep up my cheeks as I look down at the plate in front of me. God dammit. No, Kate, you can’t fall for your best friend’s ex fuck buddy. He probably only wants casual anyway.

He grins at me, and I hope to God he can’t read my mind because then I know I’ll be in trouble. He hands me a plate, his fingers brushing mine as he hands me the cutlery, sending a jolt through my body— and not an unwelcome one either.

“Ladies first.” He waves his hand over the food and looks at me expectantly. “Unless you’ve filled yourself up on the stolen bacon?” he says, arching an eyebrow in silent challenge.

“I’m not going to say no. This looks amazing. I think I love pancakes for dinner.” I stuff a piece in my mouth and smirk at him, which just makes him laugh.

About halfway through the meal, he catches me staring at him. He’s sitting at the end of the counter on another stool, shoveling pancakes and bacon into his mouth, and even while he’s doing it, he’s gorgeous. How unfair is it that the G.O.G is still hot while stuffing his face? C’mon! That just proves that this universe is twisted. Hell, he could choreograph a stripping act involving food, and I’d be wet in mere minutes. So you can imagine me sitting beside him, sneaking glances at his face, his shoulders, and his toned arms that are like a magnet for your tongue.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he asks, standing up and taking his plate to the sink.

“You really don’t want to know,” I say, aware that he totally caught me checking him out.

“Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t wanna know, babe,” he adds quickly, his voice dropping an octave. It’s enough for me to lift my head up and look at him, and when I do, I stop breathing. He’s now standing on the other side of the counter, arms braced on either side of him, leaning toward me.

“I was wondering why?”

“Why?” he asks cautiously.

“Yeah…” My voice trembles.

“You wanna know why what?” he asks again, this time more certain. The raspy tone in his voice is creating tingles in my body that my three date rule doesn’t allow.

“Um…“ I stop mid-sentence. He’s looking at me with such intensity that I’m finding it hard to breathe. My brain has stopped, my heart is racing, and if there were an inner Kate, she’d be saying “Whoa!”