Kissing Mr. Right (4 page)

“I appreciate the offer, but it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

So much for an easy brushoff.

“What about the redhead? I thought she was your girlfriend.”

Ty laughed. “Jenny? No. She works for me, and we’ve been friends since we were kids. She’s like my sister.”

“Ok, well,” Kendall stammered. “I have a lot going on right now. Between my regular job and this dating show deal, things are going to be kind of crazy for the next several weeks.” She smiled apologetically. “It’s just not a good time. I’m sorry.”

He continued to pierce her with his deep blue gaze. That gaze seemed to see her. Not just her image—not who she’d been and who she was determined to become. It was like he shined a light on the dark corners of her soul to see the woman she’d hidden away under makeup and a fancy wardrobe she could barely afford. The woman she barely recognized anymore. That fact alone was enough to shore up her resolve. Ty Bishop might be easygoing, but he was dangerous in all the ways that counted the most.

“You don’t plan to eat in the next month?” he asked gently.

Kendall drummed tense fingers against the table. Her palms had started to sweat. She needed to end this conversation before her body’s desire for him short-circuited her brain. “Listen, Ty, the truth is, you’re not really my type.”

His smiled never wavered, but something sparked in his blue eyes, as if this exchange was the beginning of a chess game he would take great enjoyment in winning. “What if I wore an expensive suit, drove a fancy car, and worked in a hot-shot office building? Would I be your type then?”

“I can’t believe you said that. What you wear or the car you drive has
nothing
to do with it.”

He leaned forward and in a husky whisper said, “I don’t believe that for a second. What’s the matter, Princess? Afraid to get your hands dirty messin’ with the common folk?”

Kendall sucked in a sharp breath. The accusation that she was a snob would be almost laughable if the insinuation wasn’t so offensive. She’d navigated through the worst kind of snobbery in her life, and that wasn’t who she wanted to be. There was nothing wrong with being clear about her priorities.

Her physical reaction to Ty convinced her that spending time with him would shake up her life in a way she wasn’t prepared to deal with at the moment. She let her irritation and fear coalesce, drowning out her unwanted lust for him. She was a reporter, and it was time to dig a little deeper into this story.

She brought her face near enough to Ty’s that she could feel his breath against her skin. “I’m sure your rippling muscles and baby blue eyes have gotten you far with women. Why me? Why does it matter that
I
agree to a date? Is it possible your ego can’t handle someone saying no?”

She’d wanted to make him mad. Instead, one end of his mouth quirked slightly. “I’ve been asking myself all morning why it matters.” He shook his head, almost rueful. “All I can tell you is that I feel a connection to you I can’t explain.”

Blood pounded in Kendall’s head and her mouth went dry. Of all the answers she’d expected, the idea that his persistence was about her and not just the conquest hadn’t crossed her mind. She’d never felt so off-balance or desirable. It was a precarious combination. She licked her lips and whispered, “There’s no connection.”

Their heads were so close she didn’t notice him raise his hand until she felt the gentle pressure of his fingertip against her bottom lip.

Her eyes widened but she made no move, her breath catching in her chest. His eyes were focused on her mouth, which had gone completely dry. Little lightning bolts of sensation sparked along her skin as he traced a path from her lips, across her chin and down the column of her neck to where the collar of her silk sweater began.

He hooked his finger into the soft fabric, his knuckle lightly brushing the sensitive skin at the base of her throat. An involuntary shiver skittered across the back of her neck.

Slowly, Ty sat back and folded his arms across his chest. Desire darkened his eyes as his gaze slammed into hers. “No connection at all?” he repeated.

Kendall could barely hear him over her pounding head. She dropped her eyes to the front of his shirt, unwilling to meet the intensity of his stare. The sleeves of his shirt were folded just below the elbows. His forearms were tanned and muscled, with a smattering of golden hair flecked across them. His right hand rested in the crook of his left arm. The lean finger that had, moments earlier, wreaked havoc on her insides tapped benignly against the flannel.

She was losing her cool and it scared her. The way Ty Bishop made her feel was too much of a distraction from her dream, and she was smart enough to know it. Smart enough to take a deep, if shaky, breath to calm down before meeting his eyes. Smart enough to sit back against the hard wood of the chair, clasp her hands tightly in front of her and dig her thumbnail deep into the soft flesh of her palm. The sharp pain burst the sweet bubble of lust that enveloped her.

When she felt like she’d be able to speak without squeaking, she plastered on a fake smile and said, “Sorry to disappoint, but you just don’t do it for me.”

He focused his stare on her mouth, as if he had every intention of licking the lie from her lips. “Right.”

Unable to stand his scrutiny for one more moment, Kendall stood. “We’d better get back.”

She reached for the neat pile of trash, grateful for the distraction. Before she could pick it up, one of Ty’s hands covered hers. “Let me get that.”

She snatched back her hand as if she’d been scalded. Which, to Kendall’s chagrin, made him laugh out loud.

Reluctantly, she followed him toward the coffee shop’s entrance. A few steps from the door he turned and lifted a casual arm. “See ya later, Amy,” he called.

The blond behind the counter leaned so far over the display case Kendall thought she might land on her head. Either that or those perky breasts were going to fall right out of the top of her shirt. “Bye, Ty.” Her voice dripped with honey. “Come back soon.”

He gave another noncommittal wave and pushed open the door, holding it until Kendall was through. “I guess not every woman is immune to my charms.”

Kendall rolled her eyes and fished around in her purse for her sunglasses case. “No doubt the poor girl’s senses are impaired by caffeine overload.”

He shook his head. “You’re a piece of work, Princess.”

“Don’t call me
Princess
.” She unfolded her tortoiseshell frames, pushing them onto her face.

Ty fell in step beside her. They walked back to the body shop in a silence that felt almost companionable. Surprising, given the awkwardness of their recent exchange.

Kendall felt Ty watching her. The hair on her neck stood at attention under his scrutiny. She kept her gaze straight ahead. He didn’t seem angry with her. In fact, she was unable to get a read on what he was thinking.

Maybe it was better this way. His touch had made her body yell a big, fat
yes
, and it had taken every amount of willpower she possessed not to give in to his advances. The sooner she was away from him the better.

As they walked around the chain-link fence that marked the body shop’s perimeter, there was no sign of the Jeep. It wasn’t parked in the lot or in one of the open work bays.

“I’ll find Ray,” Ty suggested. He placed his hand on the small of her back to steer her toward the body shop’s office. Even that casual touch made her stomach flip. From the look he sent her, Ty damn well knew it.

She picked up her pace, and he dropped his hand. She ignored the soft chuckling behind her and made a beeline toward the office.

A blast of stale air assaulted her as she swung open the office door. Ray sat behind the counter in front of a computer monitor and the redhead, Jenny, stood behind him, studying the screen over his shoulder. Both looked up as she stepped into the lobby area. Ray’s eyes remained on her, but Jenny’s assessing gaze traveled between Kendall and Ty, who’d followed her into the building.

“Good news,” Ray told her. “Only the bumper needs to be replaced. The dent in the side is shallow enough that I can take care of it with a buff and touch-up paint.” He shuffled through a stack of papers on the counter then handed her one from near the top. “Here’s the breakdown of parts and labor.”

Kendall studied the estimate. The total amount was less than her deductible. At least something positive had come from this morning. “When can you get started?”

Ray glanced back at the computer screen. “I should be able to have it back to you Monday morning.”

“You want me to leave it with you now?”

Ray looked surprised. “Wasn’t that the plan?”

Kendall nodded. “I guess. I’m sorry, my mind’s a little scattered.” She dug in her purse for her cell phone. “I just need to call someone to pick me up.” She wasn’t used to feeling so emotionally unsteady.

She noticed both Ray and Jenny staring over her shoulder at the place where Ty stood. They expected him to offer to drive her somewhere, while he most likely regretted the time he’d already wasted with her. She punched in a number, but before she could hit the “Send” button, Jenny spoke.

“I can drop you off wherever you need to go.”

“Thanks,” Kendall replied, “but I don’t want to inconvenience you. I’m meeting a couple of friends for lunch. One of them can come and get me.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m on the clock.” Jenny gave her a conspiratorial wink. “My boss can be a real prick when he sets his mind to it. I wouldn’t mind a personal errand on company time.”

Kendall looked over her shoulder and almost laughed at Ty’s expression. She gave him an innocent shrug and turned back to Jenny. “That would be great. I just need to grab a few things out of my car.”

“It’s around back,” Ray told her. “I’ll show you.” He motioned toward the door that led to the work bays.

She followed him without looking back, wishing she could ignore her body’s reaction to Ty as easily as she could ignore his presence.

CHAPTER FOUR

As the door shut behind Kendall, Ty stepped closer to Jenny. “My boss can be a real prick? What the hell was that about? Yesterday you called her shallow and suddenly you’re offering her a ride?”

Jenny shrugged. “She looked so jumbled standing there. I felt bad.” Her eyes narrowed and she shook a finger at him. “What did you do to her?”

Ty’s mouth dropped open. “What did
I
do to
her
? How about what she did to me? You were right about her being trouble.” The anger he’d felt at Kendall’s rejection came rushing back.

He began to pace the small lobby. “I don’t do it for her, my ass,” he mumbled to himself, forgetting that Jenny stood a few feet away. “She practically jumped out of her skin when I touched her.”

He stopped in his tracks when Jenny cackled.

“What’s so funny?”

Her gray eyes widened in amusement. “You’re pissed.”

“Of course I’m pissed.”

She shook her head. “I take back what I said about Kendall not being worth the trouble. It’s entertaining to see you all hot and bothered. What is it about her that has you so fired up?”

Ty blew out a sigh and raked one hand through his hair. “I don’t know. She’s snooty, compulsive, probably a control freak.”

“All attractive qualities in a woman,” Jenny interrupted, popping her gum.

“Yeah, right. There’s something about her that gets to me and I can’t seem to let it go.” He massaged his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. “But she turned me down flat. What do I do now?”

Jenny tapped one finger to her chin, as if she was contemplating an answer. “You could track down a boom box and stand outside the TV station blasting old Peter Gabriel songs. That would get her attention.”

He smiled. “I’m thinking of something that won’t get me slapped with a restraining order.”

“But taking no for an answer doesn’t seem like a viable option?”

“No.” Although it probably should. He didn’t know Kendall well enough to subject himself to more rejection, despite his attraction to her. But other than building his business, Ty hadn’t taken a risk on anything in a long time. Now that he’d made Rocky Mountain Landscapes a success, he’d begun to feel restless, like he wanted more than the simple life he’d created for himself. He’d been burned once before when he’d fought for something he believed in, but maybe it was time to try putting himself out there again. He wanted Kendall, and he suspected she felt more for him than she was letting on.

Jenny continued to watch him, elbows against the laminate countertop, her chin resting in her hands. “What?” she asked. “Are you going to aerate her lawn?”

“Funny. Can you check on the Donnelly house after you drop her off? I’ve got something I need to do.”

“Aren’t you going to fill me in on the big plan?” Jenny asked, straightening from the counter.

Ty already had one hand on the front door. “Let’s just say if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em,” he called over his shoulder.

“What does that mean?”

Kendall heard Jenny’s yell as she came in from the garage. The door to the front of the office swung closed. She watched Ty stalk across the parking lot toward his truck. She tamped down the wave of disappointment that spilled over her as she watched his retreating form. That was the last she’d see of Ty Bishop.

She ignored the disappointment that shot through her. Of course he was gone. She’d blown him off. He’d hardly wait around to say good-bye.

The other woman noticed her and walked around the counter, grabbing her battered backpack from the top. “Where to?” she asked with a smile.

“I’m sorry if I caused a fight,” Kendall said.

Jenny fished around in the bottom of the backpack and pulled out an industrial-size ring of keys. “Aw, honey, Ty and I go back too far to fight. Besides, that man is easy like Sunday morning. Not much gets to him.”

An image of the muscle pulsing in Ty’s strong jaw flashed into Kendall’s mind, but she didn’t argue with Jenny. The striking redhead had a long relationship with Ty Bishop. Kendall barely knew him.

She followed Jenny toward another beat-up pickup truck. “So tell me about the landscaping business,” she said, trying not to sound too interested.

By the time Kendall hopped to the curb in front of the farm-to-table restaurant where she met her two best friends for lunch every Friday, she decided she liked Jenny Castelli’s candor and confidence. “Thanks for the ride,” she said through the open door on the pickup’s passenger side. “And for helping with my car. I appreciate it.”

Jenny smiled. “No problem. The Jeep will be good as new when Ray’s done.”

Kendall swung the door closed and waved as Jenny drove away. The ancient pickup backfired as it turned a corner at the end of the block, attracting several raised eyebrows from people walking along the street in the trendy Cherry Creek North neighborhood. She imagined Jenny thumbing her nose at the onlookers and grinned.

When she walked into The Cherry Kitchen, the young woman behind the host stand smiled. “They’re at your usual table.”

Kendall bypassed the people waiting for tables. The restaurant was popular and there was always a crowd for Friday lunch.

The Cherry Kitchen served locally sourced food and the décor combined industrial flare with farmhouse comfort. The walls were painted a muted gray with rich mahogany trim. Vintage American art hung in neat rows along the walls. Each of the stainless steel tables sported a mason jar with fresh flowers. The lighting was soft and ambient.

A number of eyes followed her as she made her way to the back of the restaurant. Kendall liked being recognized in the community, but not for the reasons most people would guess. A lot of people were fiercely loyal to their local news channel. It gave her a sense of belonging to be invited into someone’s home via the television.

She set her purse and bag next to a chair at a four-person table positioned in a quiet corner of the busy restaurant. “Hello, ladies.”

Two women turned to smile at her.

“Well, if it isn’t Denver’s answer to
The Bachelorette
,” one of them drawled.

“Sam, you promised you wouldn’t tease her,” the other chided.

“I lied.”

Kendall rolled her eyes at Samantha Carlton and Chloe Daniels, her two best friends, who couldn’t be less alike.

A decade ago, Sam had been one of America’s reigning supermodels, gracing magazine covers and fashion spreads with her honey blond hair, almond shaped blue eyes, and killer body. These days, she favored baggy sundresses and cowboy boots over designer duds and heels. She wore no makeup and her hair was typically fashioned into a sloppy knot on the back of her head. But no amount of dressing down could completely hide Sam’s traffic-stopping good looks.

Next to her, Chloe was a throwback to another era. Short and curvy, she looked a little like a modern day Betty Boop with raven-hued curls framing a pixie face.

“Tell me the truth.” Kendall groaned. “Is it going to be a total disaster?”

She’d called Chloe from the station yesterday to tell her that she and Sam should watch the broadcast introducing viewers to the concept for
It’s Raining Men
. She wanted the opinion of friends she could trust to be honest with her.

Before either of the women could respond a waiter approached. They ordered and when the waiter disappeared, Chloe leaned forward and patted Kendall’s hand.

“Internet dating is all the rage right now, so it will bring attention to you and the station.”

Kendall sipped her water. “But is it the wrong kind of attention? Will I look pathetic dating on camera?”

Chloe shook her head, curls bouncing against the side of her face. “You’re the star of the show. The star never looks pathetic.”

“She’s right,” Sam agreed, her long fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of herbal tea. “It’s the losers applying to date you who will look pathetic.”

Kendall cringed at the description of the men she would be dating. “They might not be losers. They might be
nice
men who haven’t had much luck meeting a
nice
woman.”

Sam looked skeptical but Chloe said, “Like us.”

“As in we’re nice or we’re losers?” Kendall asked doubtfully.

She’d met Sam and Chloe three months after moving to Denver. She’d had no social life and no friends. Most of the people she worked with were either several years older than her and settled in their lives or young and into the party scene. She didn’t fit into either group.

On a whim, she’d signed up for a class at a local community center,
Discovering the Wild Woman Within
. It wasn’t her first choice, but the only one that fit into her odd schedule. Halfway through the first class, she regretted her decision. It had quickly turned into a bitch session about her classmates’ husbands and boyfriends.

She’d walked out during the break, planning not to return, and found Sam and Chloe, both women she’d recognized from class, sitting on opposite ends of the building’s main staircase. Too embarrassed to quit with an audience, she’d stood near the entrance mulling her options. When the break was over, Sam had suggested that the three women skip the rest of class in favor of margaritas and lunch at a nearby Mexican restaurant.

After two pitchers of margaritas and a mound of nachos, the three had discovered something better than their inner wild women: friendship.

From that afternoon, Sam and Chloe had become Kendall’s two best friends. They’d held each other’s hands through bad boyfriends and worse breakups. Their abysmal luck with men was one of their tightest bonds. Sam nicknamed their love lives
No Sex in the City
.

“We’re not losers,” Kendall assured Chloe. “We could get dates if we wanted them. We’re discriminating.”

“Speaking of discriminating,” Sam interrupted. “Do you have any veto power over the men?”

Kendall grimaced. “Not really. I filled out a detailed questionnaire about my preferences, but other than that, it’s anyone’s guess which men the producers will choose. Liz promised to sneak me a few of the audition tapes to watch so I’d get an idea of what the men might be like.”

Sam smiled around a forkful of spinach leaves. “You are a brave girl, my friend.”

Kendall stabbed at her salad. “Stupid is more like it. You know my luck with men. Plus, I’ve been so distracted worrying about these dates that I’m behind on my other work. I’ve got a meeting this afternoon for the wildfire follow-up series—my first real story—and I haven’t even begun my research because I’m too freaked out about this.” She sighed. “All I know is this New York job better come through.”

“Who knows,” Chloe said, reaching for a piece of bread from the basket that sat in the middle of the table. “Maybe you’ll meet Mr. Right.”

“That’s exactly what Liz said,” Kendall told her. “But I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

As if on cue, a tall man appeared at the side of the table. He was wearing black-checkered pants, a white chef’s shirt, and he sported close-cropped dark hair with just a hint of gray around the temples. When he clasped his hands together in front of his chest, a gold pinkie ring sparkled in the light. That was the only hint that the renowned chef at Denver’s favorite local eatery was a Jersey boy at heart.

“And how are you ladies enjoying lunch?” he asked with a broad smile.

“It’s perfect as usual, Anthony,” Sam told him.

He eyed the half-eaten salads and tsked. “One day I will convince you three to try something that would take skill to prepare.”

This was the usual conversation the trio had with Anthony Kulaski, the restaurant’s gregarious head chef. First, he confirmed that the food was good before launching into a few minutes of unabashed flirting, mainly with Sam. Wrapped up in her own thoughts, Kendall paid little attention to the innuendos traded back and forth until she realized Anthony had spoken to her.

“I’m bringing the digital camera to my sister’s tonight,” he told her. “I don’t trust the quality on my phone. You need to see exactly what you’re getting.” Kendall smiled and nodded, not wanting to admit she had no idea what he was talking about.

Anthony wiggled his bushy eyebrows. “Robbie is quite a catch, you know.”

“Isn’t your nephew married?” Chloe asked.

“The divorce papers were finalized last week,” he replied, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Good riddance as far as I’m concerned.” He gave Kendall an encouraging smile. “Besides, third time’s a charm, right?”

Her eyes widened. Robbie was Anthony’s forty-something nephew. Anthony had been trying to set up Robbie with Sam, Chloe, or Kendall since they’d started their regular lunches at his restaurant. She’d met Robbie once. He was a short, pudgy man with a well-oiled pompadour and a thick mat of chest hair, accentuated by several heavy gold chains. She was pretty sure he ran a pawnshop.

“So Robbie is living with his mother again?” Sam asked innocently. Kendall glared at the teasing gleam in her friend’s big eyes.

Anthony nodded. “Just until he finds a place of his own. You have a nice condo nearby, right?” he asked Kendall.

Her mouth opened but no words came out. Luckily, she was saved from answering when one of the waitstaff tapped Anthony on the shoulder.

He turned back to their table with an apologetic smile. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies, there’s something that needs my attention in the kitchen.”

Kendall stared at her half-eaten salad for several moments after his departure. Sam and Chloe did not speak. Finally, she looked up to find both of her friends watching her and trying hard not to laugh.

She dropped her head into her hands. “Fantastic. The guy I’ll be dating with all of Denver watching is a twice-divorced forty-year-old who lives with his mother.”

“It could be worse,” Chloe mused. “He could be unemployed.”

Kendall covered her mouth with her hand, but a burst of hysterical laughter escaped her lips. A moment later all three of the women were doubled over with laughter, ignoring the strange looks they received from the other diners.