Her Kind of Man (14 page)

Allina didn't click with Kent right away. He'd been a jock, and played college football for most of his time there. Whenever she saw him, he usually had some groupie with him. But he was the nicest—and finest—player on the team. Eventually, they'd formed a tentative friendship and it grew from there.

When Kent got with Kerri, Allina remembered everyone joking that he'd finally been tamed by a woman. Kerri was a medical resident, and at least five years older than Kent. He'd fallen hard for her. The relationship didn't end well, however, and Allina had found herself helping Kent through it. That's when her feelings for him changed, when she realized she viewed him differently.

Allina iced the cake, giggling when she thought of the urban meaning of the word. After she was finished, she set the table. She'd inadvertently cooked too much food and considered calling Syd and Morgan over for dinner. Her friend had called her earlier to apologize for letting her drink so much tequila, and had mentioned that she didn't feel like cooking.

Deciding to check in with Kent before she called Syd and her family over, she ambled toward his room. As she approached his door, he swung it open and practically ran her over.

“Oh, shit,” he said, holding on to her elbow as she stumbled back.

Bracing herself against the wall, she smoothed a hand over her shirt. “It's okay, I—” She looked up at him and gasped. “Oh my goodness.”

He was standing before her in nothing but a towel. The stark white towel hung low on his hips. The smooth lines of his hard stomach and his pecs glistened with water. Her fingers tingled with a need to touch the hard planes of his body.
Oh my!
Once she realized she was staring, she looked away quickly and turned her back to him. Too late. The sight of his muscular physique and strong legs had been seared into her brain. “Oh, um, I'm sorry. I didn't know you weren't dressed. I…I thought…I was just coming to ask you if you'd mind me inviting Syd and Morgan over for dinner.” She squeezed her eyes shut. But it didn't help. “I cooked too much food and I didn't want it to go to waste,” she babbled on. “Oh my God.”

His hand on her shoulder stopped her. “Allina, it's okay. I don't mind.”

Glancing at him over her shoulder, stealing one last look, she said, “Okay. I'll…just…I'm going back in the kitchen.”

She made a break for the kitchen as fast as she could. Even though she'd done her best to not turn back, she couldn't help but shoot him one last glance before she rounded the corner. Once she was in the safe haven of the kitchen, she sagged against the counter. The smell of his soap and the feel of his hand on her elbow were etched into her mind.
Oh my God, he's hot
.

“Allina?”

She jumped, startled by his voice. Without turning around, she busied herself by opening a cabinet and pulling out a saucer. What she needed it for, she had no idea. The table was already set. “I can't call Syd because I don't have a phone,” she muttered as she realized it.

“I called them myself. Brynn is asleep, and Morgan was on his way to pick up Chinese food they'd already ordered.”

With trembling hands, she set the small plate on the table and turned around, hoping against all hope that he was dressed. “Thanks,” she said, disappointed her buffer couldn't come to dinner and distract her from her overwhelming desire.

Thank God
. He was fully clothed, in a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. Unfortunately, it didn't help her get that other image out of her mind.

“Do you think you could take me over there tomorrow on your way to work? I'd love to see the baby,” she said.

“Allina, I'm sorry about earlier.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I'm not used to having a houseguest and I needed another towel.”

Shaking her head, she said, “No, don't apologize. It was bound to happen, right?”
Bound to happen? Geez, Allina, get it together
.

“I guess,” he muttered. “First thing tomorrow, I'm going to pick you up a phone, okay? I'll be working long hours this week trying to finish a project.”

She tilted her head and observed him. Kent was a hard worker, dedicated to his job. But she knew he'd rather be doing something else. “Can I ask you a question?”

He raised his eyes to meet hers. “Sure.”

“How's your art? I noticed you were working on something in the office.”

“I've been working on a painting to hang at the Ice Box.” His face lit up when he talked about it. “I thought it would be cool to hang it behind our booth.”

The “crew” had designated a big booth in the back as their own personal booth. It was private, and off to the side. Before they bought the bar, the previous owner had allowed them to purchase the booth, kind of like a VIP thing.

“Really?” she said, grinning. “Can I see it?”

“Yeah,” he said.

She followed him to the office, trying not to pay too much attention to the way he glided down the hall, or his butt.

Once they were in the office, he pushed back the tarp covering the painting.

“Oh Kent,” Allina breathed. She eyed the painting—of Kent, Syd, Red, and Morgan. Stepping closer, she reached out to touch it, but paused before turning to him. “Can I?”

He nodded. “Go ahead. I've been working on it a while. It's been a long time since I used oil to paint.”

She touched the surface, awed by the detail in their faces. Syd was sitting in a chair, flanked by the others. “This is brilliant. What made you do it?”

“I had planned to do it as a gift to the others when we bought the place, but work and everything else got in the way.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I can't believe it. It's beautiful.”

He lowered his gaze, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Thanks.”

“I mean, I knew you could paint, but…you're awesome.” She swept a hand over the painting again, right over his face. “You could probably sell this, or something like it. Do you realize how much money you could make?”

“I don't do it for money,” he said.

“You should.” She studied the painting further, noting the blurred Ice Box sign in the background. It was abstract but she could make it out. “Have you worked on anything else?”

“Yeah,” he told her, his eyes sparkling with pride. “I have this new program where I can design all kinds of things. I've been doing little stuff for the bar, and one of my co-workers asked me to design a logo for her.”

“Kent, you could actually start your own company doing this type of work. You already know your way around the computer. You could be building websites, too. That's money in the bank, and you love it.”

When her arms fell to her sides, he pulled the tarp back over the painting. “I've thought about it, but I don't have a lot of time to devote to it right now. The bar is busy and work is…hectic.”

“Well, you should definitely think more about it,” she said as they made their way back to the kitchen. “Why continue to work at that high stress job when you can do something you love?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said.

She stopped and turned to him. “I guess you could.” Who knew that in trying to encourage Kent to follow his dream, she'd end up inspiring herself to do the same? It was high time she contacted Cali about that business.

K
ent couldn't believe it.

Instead of spending his Monday night working, he was sitting across from Allina on the floor in the living room, like it was the most natural thing in the world. He'd never imagined being so satisfied, happy even, to have someone sharing his space. But she seemed to fit into his life so seamlessly he hated to think about what he'd do when she got her own place. It was the first time in a long while that he'd thought about taking a vacation from work, just so he could stay home—with her. His mouth quirked up into a smirk at the way Allina bit her lip in concentration. He hated to do this, but…

“Uno,” he announced, when he set his second to last card on the floor between them.

She placed a card on top of his. “Draw two,” she said with a wide grin.

If Morgan could only see him now. He pulled two cards from the deck. “You better be glad you had that card. I was getting ready to win for the fifth time in a row.”

“I think your deck of cards is rigged,” she retorted, looking at the four remaining cards in her hands with a slight crease in her brow. “Besides, you cheat!”

“Hey, I don't cheat. You just don't know how to play. Uno is a game of strategy.”

“Bull,” she retorted with the cutest scowl. “Uno is a game of luck. I can't help it if I'm dealt a sucky hand.”

“Say what you will…” He played his card, laughing when she grumbled and smacked her fist on the rug. “But luck has nothing to do with it. I just have better skills.”

She bit down on her bottom lip—which drove him crazy—and pulled four cards from the deck. “You get on my nerves.” When she glanced at her cards, she tossed all of them on the floor and stood up. “I quit.”

He looked up at her. “Where are you going? You're a sore loser.”

“Be quiet. Do you want me to slice you a piece of cake?” A pretty blush spread over her cheek and he figured she'd recalled their conversation from earlier. From his view, she had pretty nice “cakes.” She was thin, but well proportioned. And he was definitely past the point of denying his attraction to her.

Nodding, he watched her disappear into the kitchen, taking in the slight sway of her hips.

Showing her his art was huge. He was extremely private, keeping most of his work to himself. Surprising himself, he hadn't hesitated to show her. Her reaction made his chest swell with pride. Not only did she love it, she'd encouraged him to do more, to strive for better in his work life and in his art. Which went hand in hand.

Then he'd been treated to the best fried chicken he'd ever tasted, even better than his mother's. It was Allina's specialty. When he'd called Morgan earlier to invite him for dinner, his brother had regretfully told him they wouldn't make it, but added his request that they save him a few pieces of chicken.

Kent had secretly hoped his brother would join them because he couldn't be held responsible for the things he wanted to do to his house guest. Being alone with her would certainly make it harder to take it slow. Unbeknownst to her, Allina had been turning him on all night. Even the way she blew on her food made him want to strip her naked on the table and show his appreciation for her. He was crawling out of his skin with the desire to touch her, to help her forget every bad thing that'd ever happened to her. He wanted it. He wanted her.

Having dinner with her, taking time to enjoy her company, playing cards, felt good to him. He liked being with her on a different level, knowing that she knew how he felt about her, how important their relationship was to him. He'd expected her to be awkward, especially after catching him in his towel earlier, but she seemed comfortable and open.

Being with her had kept his mind off his mounting worries about Den and the stress of his job. She was a welcome breath of fresh air in his life. He'd meant it when he'd said he missed her.

In college, the other players on the football team used to tease him because he was so particular about the type of woman he dated. Sure, he dated women from all different backgrounds, but he preferred a certain type. Being “fine” with “cakes” for days wasn't enough.

What was the use of having a fine woman who couldn't cook? Or a woman with a fly body, curves in all the right places, but no brain in her head? Sex was great and everything, but he needed to be able to talk to her in the morning, or at night. And not about
The Real Housewives
of whatever city, discounted shoes, or splurging on unnecessary shit just because. His ideal woman would be able to cook a dinner good enough to put his mama to shame, carry on a conversation about current events, and turn him on in the bedroom.

Allina had two of those qualities down pat. The third he suspected she would, too, with the right person.
Me
. He smirked to himself, hoping he'd be able to find out sooner than later just how good she could be. She was already sexy as hell, in that
I have no idea
kind of way. Imagine how she'd be when she got an idea.

The smell of strawberries and whipped topping wafted to his nose. He opened his eyes to Allina standing in front of him, holding a plate with a huge piece of cake on it.

She grinned down at him. “I got you a big piece.”

He took the plate from her and dug right in, moaning when he took his first bite. “You put your foot in this, Lina.”

She sat down next to him on the floor and sampled it herself. “Yum, it is good.”

It seemed like a movie, happening in slow motion. Kent held back a groan as she dipped a finger into the whipped cream, flicked her tongue across the tip before sucking it into her mouth. The resulting purr of delight that accompanied her action shot straight to his groin.

His lips parted when she did it again, closing her eyes. “Allina?” he croaked out.

Her eyes fluttered open. “Oh,” she said, clearing her throat. “Yes?”

“Um…”
Think of something not sexy to say
. “Um…never mind,” he said lamely. “I lost my train of thought.” Which was a flat-out lie. His thoughts were still on the way her digit slid in and out of her mouth like…

“Snuggle.” That word jerked him right back to the present.

Frowning, he asked, “Excuse me? ‘Snuggle'?”

She arched a brow. “I said you're out of fabric softener. Can we pick some up at the store tomorrow?”

Wow. Obviously she had been talking to him while his mind was playing in the gutter. “Yeah, I'll just pick some up on my way home from work,” he said, focusing on the cake in front of him.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before he confessed, “I liked being with you like this tonight. There are a lot of things going on with both of us, but it was good to just sit back and enjoy each other.”

“I agree,” she said softly, pushing her remaining cake around with her fork. “I had fun. Wish we had some vanilla ice cream to go with this cake.”

So she could torture him more? But a little French vanilla
would
have set it off. “That would have been even better,” he said, scraping the icing off his plate.

“I've been thinking,” she said, changing the subject. “I want to do more with my designs. I'm tired of being scared, of everything. I've been going through the motions of life for too long, doing what everyone else thought I should do. It's time to do what I want to do.”

“I hope this means you're going to call Cali?” he asked, setting his plate on the coffee table.

“I am.”

He nudged her with his shoulder. “Good girl.”

“And I want you to do something for me.”

Arching his eyebrow, he willed his mind not to go where it wanted to go. “What would that be?” he asked huskily.

“Seriously consider doing something with your talent. Think about it…” She got on her knees and picked up his hands, holding them out at his sides. “These hands were made to do something better than sitting behind a computer doing mundane, predictable tasks. How could you be so good at encouraging others and not want more for yourself?”

“It's easier said than done, Allina. But I love that you're so supportive.”

Her shoulders slumped and she dropped one of his hands. Holding on to the other one, she traced his fingers. Her touch was stirring up something else in him. She didn't speak, just focused on the lines in his palm.

The scent—her scent—wafted to his nose, and the hairs on his neck raised. It was a mix of peonies and vanilla. Not that he made a habit of memorizing flower types. His mother happened to love the large, fragrant flowers and he made sure she had them every Mother's Day. He'd even surprised her one year by hiring a landscape artist to plant some in her backyard. And Allina smelled like she had them hidden somewhere on her. He wanted to peel her clothes off, one piece at a time to find them.

The silence was getting to him, making him want to do things to her that would likely make her blush if he described them out loud. “Are you reading my future?” he joked, unable to take it any longer.

She grinned. “If I believed in that, I would. But your future already seems clear to me.”

Intrigued, he asked, “Well, spit it out. How clear is it?”

“I can't tell you,” she said. “But I will say that you're going to do big things.”

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head. “Are you speaking in a prophetic way?”

Allina had told him once that God gives everyone gifts, one of them being the gift of prophecy. Kent wasn't religious, but he was familiar with the Bible because of his time at church as a child. He could concede that there were certain things that were not able to be explained. This had always fascinated him.

“No.” She giggled and finally let go of his hand. “I know you. I see you in a certain way, unlike how you see yourself. I think you're wonderful.” Her eyes widened and she averted her gaze, as if she hadn't meant to say that. She stood up and rubbed her pants. “I better wash the dishes.”

She picked up their plates and hurried to the kitchen. He sat there for a few minutes, digesting everything she'd said to him. Her faith in him was something he wanted to live up to, and for the first time in a long time, he considered taking her advice. But first…

He joined her in the kitchen. She was standing at the sink, scrubbing a pan. Approaching her, he stopped right behind her. Leaning in close, he brushed his mouth against her ear. She stilled, sponge in hand. “I appreciate what you said out there,” he muttered.

Slipping an arm around her waist, he pulled her closer, enjoying her breathy gasp. “Kent,” she said, her voice shaky.

“I mean it,” he said. “It means a lot to me.”

She turned in his arms and gazed at him. “It's true.”

His hands skimmed down her sides and finally settled on her hips. Squeezing them, he lowered his face until the tip of his nose bumped hers, then pressed his lips to hers.

Allina leaned into Kent's embrace as he pulled her flush against him and kissed her with such passion, her knees buckled. Fortunately for her, he was holding her so tightly there was no way she could fall. She felt his tongue seeking entrance into her mouth and she opened willingly. Her body responded in a way it had never before: her nipples tightened as his rock-hard chest pressed against hers, her legs quivered as his hands slid down her sides, over her hips and her butt. It was almost like he'd cracked her open and exposed her in some way, only to him. Only for him.

Finally pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers. But only for a second before he captured her lips with his again. Allina clenched her hands together and jumped when she felt water dripping down her arm and onto the floor. She felt the rumble of laughter in his chest first—before he stepped back.

“Maybe this should go back in the sink?”

Still dazed, her gaze dropped to the puddle of soapy water on the floor, then to the wet sponge in her hand. She loosened her hold on the big blue thing and allowed him to take it from her. “Oh God,” she whispered as he tossed it into the sink behind her. Her head fell to his chest as they both laughed.

They swayed back and forth to their own music, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Look at me,” he said finally. She raised her eyes to meet his. He searched her gaze. For what, she had no idea. “I want to kiss you again,” he admitted.

Her cheeks burned and she lowered her eyes. What did she say to that?
Yes? Please do? I'd like that?

Tilting her chin up again with his finger, he asked. “Is that okay with you?”

Lips parted, she nodded. He kissed her again, drawing a low moan from her. Whatever she'd been getting ready to say was forgotten when his tongue slipped into her mouth and stroked hers. She gripped his head and dug her fingertips into his scalp.

Unnerved. Allina felt unnerved, like she was caught up in Kent's whirlwind. She couldn't describe how it felt to be in his arms, being kissed so tenderly, so passionately, by him. Or how she felt when he touched her.

He lifted her up in his arms, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her into the living room, kissing her the whole time.

Lowering her to the couch, he rested his weight on her. He trailed a line of hot kisses from her mouth to her cheek to her neck. A pang of something she'd never felt before started low in her belly. It was scary but exhilarating at the same time. She wanted more of it. She clung to him as his lips found a spot just below her ear that drove her wild. Then he moved to the delicate shell of her ear and grazed it with his tongue before nipping at it with his teeth. His hands brushed against her breasts.
Oh God. Oh…no.

She bucked up and he jumped back, hands in the air. If she hadn't stopped what was happening, they would have made love right on his couch. She wasn't sure she was ready to go that far and it wouldn't be fair to get him all wound up and chicken out at the last minute.