Glazed (3 page)

She’d said the kiss had been amazing. That fact made him a little short of breath, and his jeans downright painful. The way she’d kissed him back had been amazing, too – she’d definitely been into it. Or maybe she’d just been into the moment, and not him. After all, a maniac who was a good kisser was still a maniac. And he had to admit, she had no reason not to think he was a maniac. He hadn’t given her one. If he could go back in time, he’d change that. Sure, he’d still ask her out, but he’d apologize again for flashing and nearly killing her first, and he wouldn’t attack her with his mouth.

But it was too late. She was gone, and all he knew was her first name. He hadn’t even asked her why she’d been going to the corner of West and Spiller, or what it was she did for a living. There’d been a ‘For Sale’ sign in the window of the building he’d dropped her off in front of – was she a realtor? That seemed to make sense. Maybe he could browse the local real estate offices’ websites and see if any of them had her listed as an agent. Or was that too creepy? He didn’t want to scare her off a second time, but God, he wanted to see her again.

Trying and failing to push all thoughts of Kelly and her ultra-kissable lips from his head, he slid out of the truck, hoping the feel of solid asphalt beneath his feet would help ground him in reality. It didn’t have much of an effect, so he resorted to forcing himself to think about more mundane subjects, like what a pain in the ass replacing his condo locks would be, and how his assistant-manager-in-training Jason might be doing back at the shop, where he’d left him in charge. Subjected to these decidedly unarousing thoughts, his hard on eventually subsided, leaving an ache in its place that wouldn’t quite let him forget about Kelly.

Chapter 2

“That’s the asking price,” Joan said, “but I think you could talk them down by at least ten-thousand. The place has been on the market for several months, and they’re anxious to sell.”

Kelly smiled and nodded at her realtor, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened brown hair out of her eyes. The walk to Joan’s office had been long, and the day had grown surprisingly warm for autumn. If only she hadn’t worn a sweater – even now, she was perspiring slightly. “Great. I guess I need to get pre-approved for a loan now so I can make an offer.”

Joan smiled back, clearly pleased at the prospect of presenting the owner of the storefront on West and Spiller with an offer on their property. “That’s right. Give me a call when you’re approved, and either bring the official form by my office or fax it to me. We’ll get started on submitting your offer as soon as we’ve got the letter of approval in hand.”

Kelly beamed despite the fact that she had another long walk ahead of her, this time to her bank, where she would apply for a business loan. “Will do,” she said, rising from her chair. “See you soon, Joan.”

Much to her dismay, it was even warmer when she stepped back outside than it had been when she’d entered the office. Where was that hunk, Derek, and his truck when she needed him? She pushed away the thought hastily, blushing as the phantom sensation of his lips pressed hard against hers teased her. She couldn’t risk getting involved with anyone right now. Not even a heavenly hunk like Derek.

****

When Derek scooped up his shopping bags full of new locks and all their installation paraphernalia, he snatched the empty, jelly-smeared donut bag off the truck seat as an afterthought. When it revealed a leather purse that had been lying underneath, he frowned at it. Then realization clicked on like a light bulb going off above his head and he snatched it by the strap, his heart racing.

This was Kelly’s bag. The brown leather was smooth and supple in the palm of his hand, reminding him of the feel of her lips against his, of the smooth texture and rich mocha color of her hair. This was Kelly’s bag! And now, of course, he’d have to return it to her. The thought was slightly intoxicating – he stumbled on his way toward the condo’s back door, nearly dropping the shopping bags and causing all the metal parts inside them to jangle against each other.

After depositing his purchases on the kitchen table, he did the same with the purse. He eyed it warily for a few moments, trying to fight down the surge of guilt that’d assaulted him when he’d imagined himself opening it. It was ridiculous, of course. He had to open it. Doing so was his only chance at discovering her address, of being able to return the handbag at all.

Thinking of Kelly and how distressed she must be over the loss of her purse, he caught the zipper neatly between his fingertips and pulled, opening the thing. Then, feeling oddly like a voyeur, he began to pick his way carefully through its contents.

Her wallet was one of the largest items, and the first to catch his eye. He lifted it out and flipped it open, revealing a checkbook, a sleeve full of credit cards and – thank God – a driver’s license. He held it up to the light, committing every word to memory as he poured over its precious information.

Kelly A. McPherson, it read. W. Stephen St., Apt. 6, Blue Mills, MD. “Apartment 6.” He said out loud, already mentally mapping his route to West Stephen Street. He would leave now – it wouldn’t be right to wait, not when he had her wallet, keys and phone. He eyed the gaping handbag curiously, wondering just what he’d find out about Kelly McPherson if he examined the rest of its contents. He didn’t, of course. Whatever opinion his recent antics had given Kelly of him, he wasn’t a total creep. He zipped the purse shut and headed for the door. The new locks could wait.

****

Kelly groaned loudly when her doorbell rang. She’d arrived home nearly an hour ago after a grueling walk from the bank, but had been forced to linger on her front steps until very recently. She’d waited there for her landlord (who she’d called out of desperation on a neighbor’s phone) to come by with a spare apartment key. Now, she wanted nothing more than to take a shower, and nothing less than to entertain an uninvited guest or fend off solicitors. She remembered Derek mentioning his own desperate use of a hidden key and wished she’d thought of that before. But at least she hadn’t been stranded outside in just a towel! Not that she’d enjoyed roasting in her sweater beneath an unseasonably warm sun, either.

Derek and his towel. The casual thought exploded in her mind, and she found herself thinking of her cellphone and its incriminating picture. She wouldn’t have minded having it on hand to take a peek at, but would’ve been mortified to admit that to Derek. God, had he found it? The thought made her stomach clench, and she couldn’t help but imagine him gaping at it. What would he think of her if he saw it? Would he assume she was some sort of voyeur? She wasn’t sure if her snapshot could be considered voyeurism, since he’d been streaking by on a public sidewalk, but didn’t like the idea of him thinking of her as some sort of butt-shot collector in any case.

The doorbell rang a second time, and she realized she’d been standing frozen in the middle of her living room for several minutes with visions of Derek’s ass dancing through her head like sugar plums. She hurried to the door, wondering vaguely if it might be her landlord who’d rung. Would she want her spare key back already? Hopefully she’d let her keep it until she got her own back – whenever and however that would happen – or until she’d made a copy.

It wasn’t her landlord.

It was Derek, standing on her doorstep with a very familiar brown leather handbag slung over one arm and the other held in front of his chest, clutching a bouquet of what appeared to be white roses. He smiled at her from above the pale blossoms. “You left your purse in my truck.”

Kelly stared back at him, gaping slightly. It was nice of him to return her purse, but what were the flowers about? She remembered their kiss, his dinner invitation and his obvious disappointment when she’d turned him down, and thought she knew. “Oh, no,” she thought out loud, as if doing so could squash the part of her that was saying ‘Oh, yes’.

He blinked at her, his smile wavering just a little. “Oh, no?”

Heat flooded Kelly’s face. “I meant to say ‘thank you’.” She extended a hand, ready to receive her purse. “All my stuff is in there and my day’s been crazy without it.”

He didn’t hand over her purse, but pressed the bouquet into her open hand instead. “For you,” he said, punctuating the obvious with a heart-melting smile that reached all the way to the corners of his delightfully dark eyes.

Her heart fluttered, and she had to suppress the urge to bury her face in the snowy blossoms. “They’re beautiful.”

He beamed, and her insides squirmed with guilt. Was she leading him on by accepting the flowers? She hadn’t meant to. Should she have declined them? No, that idea seemed downright rude, especially when it would’ve meant handing them back after he’d already given them to her.

“They’re white,” he said, “to symbolize a new beginning.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Look, I know I must come across as a total creep. First the towel incident, and then this morning in the truck. I’m sorry. I know there’s no excuse for the way I jumped all over you. But I’d really like to put all that behind us and get to know you, if you’ll let me. Will you?”

The bluntness of his question was surprising. But then, after their kiss, she probably should’ve realized he wasn’t one to beat around the bush. Her heart, which had started beating in double-time when he’d mentioned what they’d done that  morning in the truck, sunk as she prepared to make the only reply she could give. Loath to do it, she stole a moment to glance down at the bouquet he’d presented her with. An unexpectedly colorful anomaly provided the perfect distraction.  “Hey! They’re not all white. This one’s purple.” She pointed at a rose nestled in the center of the arrangement, a soft violet against its paler companions.

He reached out to pluck the lilac rose from the bouquet. “Lavender,” he said, extending his hand in offering, “for enchantment.”

She reached automatically to take the single blossom, unable to stop herself. Enchantment. The word rang in her ears, sending a deep flush into her cheeks. It wasn’t going to be easy to turn him away. She had to though, before she became so wrapped up in his decidedly enchanting qualities that it was too late.

He took a step toward her, reducing the distance between their bodies to a scant foot of space. “You have a beautiful smile,” he said, his eyes locking with hers. “I’ll take it as a ‘yes’.”

Kelly’s smile – she
had
been smiling, she realized – turned into a dopey grin, and before she knew it she was stepping aside, moved, it seemed, but the sheer sexiness of his presence.

“Nice place,” he said as he stepped into her apartment, pulling the door softly shut behind himself.

Not really
. She couldn’t quite summon the willpower to turn down his compliment out loud. “Yeah?” she breathed instead, more interested in the way his muscles were straining his T-shirt than what he thought of her thoroughly average apartment.

“Sure,” he said, turning the full force of his magnetic gaze upon her. “The décor is very tasteful. Everything is clean and in its place. I guess this is what a home looks like without a man around to mess things up.” He laughed – a deep, pleasant sound. “At least, it looks a lot nicer in here than it does at my condo.”

Kelly laughed too, unable to stop herself, despite the fact that she saw right through his comment. No, there was no man sharing her apartment, nor had there been for some time. “I guess so,” she replied, casting a cursory glance over the neatness of her living room.

His face lit up, sparking another twinge of guilt. She had to stop handing him false hope.

He turned toward her, and for one wild moment it seemed like he was going to kiss her again. He stepped back quickly, placing a respectful distance between their bodies. “So, can I buy you lunch?”

Lunch. More casual than dinner, to be sure, but definitely a date – the look in his eyes made that clear. She prepared to object, but he spoke first.