Kissing Mr. Right (5 page)

“This is going to be great.” Sam grinned, wiping tears from the corner of one eye.

Kendall shook her head. “What have I gotten myself into?”

When she returned to the station, Kendall pushed away all thoughts of
It’s Raining Men
as she got ready for her first meeting on the Silver Creek fire project. She’d been up late last night preparing for her meeting with the soil scientist who would serve as her guide to the burn areas.

The more she learned about the restoration efforts, the more certain she was of her decision to demand this assignment. She wanted to tell the stories of the families rebuilding their lives after this tragedy. Her coworkers might not appreciate the emotional angle of many of her features, but Kendall needed to give a voice to the community that had been so affected by the Silver Creek fire.

Nerves fluttering with excitement, she pushed open the door to the conference room. She put her heart into each one of her stories, but she had a feeling Silver Creek was going to be a significant turning point in her life. The scientist sat at the large conference table facing Liz, his back to Kendall. She was glad Liz would be producing the series. The news director might not always act in Kendall’s best interest, but her instincts for how to tell a story on-air were impeccable.

Liz looked up as Kendall entered and motioned her to the far end of the table.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Kendall said as she placed her notes and research on the table next to the news director.

“Have a seat,” Liz told her. “We were just getting started. Kendall, I want you to meet the scientist who’ll be working with you on the project, Dr. Tyler Bishop.”

Kendall’s body jerked. Her rear end slipped off the chair as she locked eyes with Ty. She caught herself before she plopped onto the floor. Braced on her elbows, she managed to keep her face expressionless. Ty Bishop was her soil scientist?

No. Way.

A crisp blue button-down that matched the color of his eyes had replaced the worn flannel shirt. A muted yellow tie was neatly knotted at his throat. His jaw was clean-shaven and his blond hair looked shorter than she remembered. Had it been trimmed in the past couple hours?

Was this the same guy she’d shared coffee with a few hours earlier? Then she heard the soft chuckle she remembered from outside the repair shop. The one that said he knew exactly what she was thinking and thoroughly enjoyed how uncomfortable he made her.

Her files slipped off the table and she felt her face grow hot as she leaned forward to collect the scattered papers.

“Need a hand?” A smile played at one corner of his mouth.

“Kendall, are you all right?” Liz’s voice sounded both concerned and disbelieving. “What happened?”

“I’m fine.” Kendall turned to Liz. “What is
he
doing here?” And why does he look like he just stepped out of
Hot Scientist Monthly
, she added silently.

Liz’s eyebrows furrowed. “Dr. Bishop? I told you, he’s the soil scientist for the wildfire series. Is there a problem?”

Kendall leafed through her stack of papers. She slapped a single sheet onto the table. “Yes. According to the information I was given, Dr. Miles Roundtree from the National Forest Service is my scientist. I have his resume right here.”

Liz glanced at Ty. Kendall narrowed her eyes at the easy smile he bestowed on her boss. “I apologize for any confusion,” he said with total sincerity, shifting his gaze to Kendall. “Miles was looking forward to working with you. But with the recent budget cuts at the Forest Service, he’s understaffed and was concerned he wouldn’t have time to devote to this project. So he asked me to fill in.”

“But you’re a . . . a . . .”

Before she could finish the sentence, Ty slid a piece of paper across the table toward her. The sleeves of his button-down shirt were rolled up to the elbows, revealing the corded muscles along his forearm that had fascinated Kendall earlier this morning.

“Here’s a copy of my resume,” he told her, the long finger that had unnerved her at the coffee shop tapping against the paper.

The last bit of control Kendall felt like she had slipped through her fingers. She released her tight hold on Miles Roundtree’s biography. She gingerly picked up the sheet that Ty offered.

She read the words printed in a classic typeface across the top of the page,
Tyler Bishop, PhD.

As she scanned the rest of the page, a feeling uncomfortably close to guilt settled in the pit of her stomach. The label she’d placed on him had been woefully inadequate. He was the real deal. The resume highlighted his work with Rocky Mountain Landscapes but there was a lot more to Ty Bishop than he’d let on.

According to the information she held in her hand, his undergraduate studies had been in biology at the University of Colorado. He held a doctorate degree in soil conservation, and in a volunteer capacity had led a forest recovery team that was still working to return the forest to its pre-fire state.

Why would someone with such a scholarly background choose to spend most of his time planting bushes in a suburban backyard?

That thought was replaced by a more alarming realization. Dr. Tyler Bishop was the perfect person to act as the expert researcher for this project. He had the right credentials and because of his work in the commercial and residential sectors, could discuss technical matters in a way the general viewing audience would understand.

Kendall was stuck with him.

“How did this happen?” she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Kendall, you don’t look so good,” Liz said, worry creasing her brow. “Do you feel sick? Can I get you something?”

Kendall placed a fingertip to each temple. “I’m fine. A little surprised, that’s all. I didn’t expect to see Ty here.”

The news director glanced back and forth between Ty and Kendall. “Do you two know each other?”

A deep pink rose in Kendall’s cheeks. Her glossed lips opened and closed several times before she stammered, “Not really. Well, sort of.” Her eyes shut and her chest rose as she took several deep breaths.

Suddenly Ty was riveted by the sight of Kendall’s full mouth. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to pursue her if this was his body’s reaction to something as innocuous as breathing. He remembered how soft her skin had felt under the pad of his finger. Soft as the petal of an early spring tulip.

The level of heat that passed between them in the coffee shop had dumbfounded him. Kendall denying that heat had pissed him off. Usually it took a lot to get under Ty’s skin. But with her icy blow-off, Kendall Clark had made his blood boil.

When he’d left Ray’s shop earlier, he’d called Miles Roundtree. Ty guessed correctly that Miles, as regional director of the National Forest Service, would be involved in any type of media coverage of the burn area. Ty had worked with Miles on and off for years. First, as a summer intern during college, and later, as a volunteer to help with the wildfire containment and clean-up.

Always overworked, Miles had been happy to relinquish the task of guiding a news reporter through the regeneration efforts to Ty.

Ty’d met women like Kendall in the past. Smart, sophisticated women who only dated guys they felt were worthy of their time and attention. Ty Bishop, landscaper, wasn’t part of that mold. But Tyler Bishop, PhD, could hold his own, and he’d wanted to prove that to Kendall.

Liz placed a protective hand near Kendall’s elbow and eyed him suspiciously. He gave her his most disarming grin, but when her expression didn’t change, he started talking.

“We met yesterday,” he explained. “There was an accident.”

The woman turned to Kendall. “Dr. Bishop was involved in the car crash?”

“Apparently,” Kendall replied cryptically.

Ty made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “It was a fender bender. No big deal. I’m sure Kendall didn’t imagine we’d run into each other again so soon.”
Especially after she’d cut him off at the knees.

The news director nodded. “Then there’s no problem with the two of you working together,” she said, her tone determined.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Ty told her, earning an approving nod.

Kendall said nothing. She sat rigidly still across from him, staring at his resume, her fingers clenched so tightly around the corners that he thought the paper might rip in half. At any moment, Ty expected to see smoke curling from the sides of her head.

A pang of guilt over her obvious discomfort stabbed at his conscience. He hadn’t been lying about the connection he felt, and it wasn’t just physical. Too late, he realized that intruding on the news story that meant so much to her wasn’t the smartest way to curry favor with her. It had been a long time since Ty had made a decision based on an emotional reaction, and it had led him to nothing but trouble in the past. If he was smart, he’d excuse himself right now and find another wildfire expert to take his place.

But he couldn’t make himself leave, not with the way Kendall’s gaze had turned challenging and curious at the same time.

“Kendall,” the news director prompted, “is this arrangement all right with you?”

“As long as he’s serious. I won’t let anyone mess up this story.”

“His credentials look perfect to me,” Liz answered, without a moment’s hesitation.

Kendall’s lush mouth curved into a brittle smile as she turned to Ty. “I hope you’ve got what it takes to make this work.”

He smiled. He liked that her spunk had returned. “I’ve got it, all right.”

The news director ignored the crackling tension between them. “Great. Now that everything is settled, let’s get down to business.”

CHAPTER FIVE

The next afternoon, Kendall sank into the cushions of her overstuffed couch with her hand cradling a pint of Rocky Road ice cream. It was the first time she’d had a chance to process the events of the prior day. From the meeting with Ty and Liz, she’d gone immediately into preparations for last night’s newscast.

This morning she’d had a commitment to appear at a community Easter egg hunt at one of the downtown parks. It had been cold but sunny, with the kids bundled up in winter coats and hats as they searched for plastic eggs. Although she worked Monday through Friday in an official capacity, she often spent a portion of her weekend representing the station at local events. She didn’t mind the imposition because her social calendar was normally empty.

She loaded a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and pushed the power button on the remote. CNN clicked on, but she muted the perky anchor and concentrated on the headlines that ran along the bottom of the screen.

She jabbed her spoon back into the frozen container, digging absently for marshmallows. At this point she wasn’t sure what was most disconcerting—four blind dates in as many weeks or working with Ty Bishop.

Once she’d recovered from her shock, the wildfire meeting had been productive and exciting. Under different circumstances, she would’ve applauded Ty’s nerve at proving wrong the woman who had dismissed him as not worthy of her precious time. Because Kendall was the woman in question, she didn’t feel so generous.

Only she knew that the reason for her rejection hadn’t been entirely based on what he did for a living. Ok, maybe that was part of it, but not in the way Ty had assumed.

If she had told him the truth when turning him down, it would have sounded more like, “I’ve met you twice and both times you’ve made me hornier than a fifteen year old boy. I’m afraid that if I spend any more time with you I may do something embarrassing like rip off my clothes and jump you. That sort of behavior doesn’t mesh with the image I’ve created for myself. So I’m going to go home frustrated and full of explicit fantasies starring the two of us, but at least I’ll retain my dignity.”

Oh, yeah, that would have gone over well.

At least then she wouldn’t have had to deal with Ty horning his way into her professional life. Even if he
was
perfect for the role he would play in the wildfire project.

Just as she’d expected, Ty was able to translate his technical knowledge into terms that were both understandable and interesting to the average viewer.

Liz and Kendall were banking on the fact that locals would be interested to see the clean-up efforts to date. On Monday morning, Kendall, Ty, and one of the Channel 8 cameramen would drive down to the burn area and begin taping segments for the series.

The thought of spending an hour confined in a station van with Ty, then following him through the burn sites, had Kendall digging for another spoonful of Rocky Road. The spoon hit the bottom of the empty carton.

Damn. By the time this project wrapped, Ty Bishop was going to have her not only frazzled but also fat.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. It had to be Liz with the flash drive of submissions for
It’s Raining Men
. Sam and Chloe were coming over later to watch since Kendall was too much of a chicken to face the videos on her own.

She swiped the back of her hand across her mouth. Padding to the door, she ran her clean hand through her hair. Her fingers stuck on the elastic band she’d secured on the top of her head when she’d given herself a mini-facial earlier. She thought about pulling out the rubber band but didn’t bother.

Although Kendall rarely went out without at least a dab of lip gloss, she knew Liz wouldn’t care how she looked. Her need to maintain a perfect image stemmed from growing up a very poor fish in a sea of rich friends. Back then she’d tried to compensate for being the girl without the right clothes, the right shoes, or the right family by always looking put together.

“What have you got for me?” she asked, opening the door to Channel 8’s news director.

But it wasn’t Liz who waited on the other side.

Ty Bishop stood on her front porch with a large envelope and a stack of papers tucked under one arm. He brought his other hand around from behind his back to reveal a colorful bouquet of flowers.

He shoved the blooms toward her. “Would you take a peace offering?”

Stunned at the sight of him, Kendall’s fingers unconsciously curled around the large cluster, a sweet floral fragrance drifting up to her. No one ever brought her flowers. Well, Greg had on one occasion. They’d been a sorry arrangement of generic flowers from the local supermarket—she knew because he’d left the half-price tag stuck to the cellophane.

Unlike that arrangement, the mass of stems she held in her hand was exquisite. She couldn’t name many of the blossoms that made up the bouquet, but they were the exact combination she would have chosen if designing her perfect arrangement.

“They’re gorgeous.” She brought her face closer to enjoy the heady fragrance.

“They reminded me of you. I’m glad you like them.”

A thought struck her. “Did you pick these flowers and arrange them yourself?”

One of Ty’s broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I have some flowers in my yard. Part of the job,” he told her, with a self-conscious smile. “They bloomed early with the hot weather last week and needed to be cut thanks to this morning’s cold snap.”

“You picked flowers for me,” she repeated.

“It’s not a big deal.” His gaze lowered from hers and swept along her body, taking in her old college T-shirt and faded sweatpants. “I like the outfit.”

She shook her head, wishing desperately for a baseball cap. “You said you wanted peace. Why would you make fun of me?”

He looked genuinely surprised. “I’m not making fun. Honest. I’ve gotten used to watching you on the news. You’re always perfect with your suits and matching sweater things . . .”

“Sweater sets. They’re called sweater sets.”

“Right. It’s nice to see you looking more like the rest of us. Makes you more real.” His smile turned seductive. “I like real women.”

She pulled on the hem of her shirt as her pulse leapt at his tone.

Before she could form a coherent answer, Ty raised his head to peer over her shoulder. “Are you going to invite me in so I can show you the rest of what I’ve brought?”

She looked down at the papers under his arm.

“Some of the recent reports on the rejuvenation effort,” he told her. “Mainly statistical stuff but I thought you’d want to see it before we visit the burn area on Monday.”

He shifted the documents as she continued to stare at him. “I stopped by the station to see if someone there could get them to you. Liz told me she had this envelope and a flash drive to drop off and gave me your address. You must be really dedicated to have work delivered on Saturday.”

Her gaze switched to the flash drive. She tried not to let her eyes bug out of her head. Did he know what it held? She’d kill Liz for this.

Kendall crossed her arms across her chest and leveled a steely look at him. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve got a lot going on right now.”

If Ty remembered her reason for turning down his offer of a date, he ignored it. He gave her another one of those melting smiles that made her insides turn to mush. “So can I come in?”

After a few beats, she stepped to one side of the entry, “Oh, why not.”

As he walked past her, Ty flicked a finger at her messy topknot. “Nice touch.”

Mortified, Kendall’s hand flew to her hair. She yanked at the elastic band and combed her fingers through the curls that tumbled against her forehead.

She followed Ty into her living room. He said he liked real women. Sweats and scrubby ponytails were about as real as it got in her world.
I don’t care what he thinks about me
, she reminded herself. He was a guy she was stuck working with, not her boyfriend.

Glancing around the large area that served as both her living and dining room, his brows furrowed. “Did you move in recently?” he asked, indicating the open and extremely under-furnished space.

“No. I’m a minimalist,” she explained, adopting the term Sam always used when describing Kendall’s decorating style. It was difficult to have a certain style when she refused to furnish her space. Most of her extra money went to help out her parents. Besides, she was moving to New York soon. This place was merely an investment—not a home.

She followed Ty’s gaze, seeing her condo through his eyes. She was so used to having almost nothing that she’d gotten used to it. A slipcover draped the couch in a soft beige fabric, and two occasional chairs in sage green and a cherrywood coffee table sat in front of a built-in entertainment center that held a television, stereo, a few pillar candles, and one framed photo of Kendall with her two best friends.

The photo had been a birthday gift from Chloe, who was horrified by Kendall’s indifference toward decorating. Like everything else in her life, she’d put her desire to furnish her home on hold, reasoning that the style that fit her spacious Denver condo, with its vaulted ceilings and maple floors, wouldn’t be the same if she was living in a small apartment in New York City.

Ty’s brows rose at her description, but he didn’t argue. He nodded at the muted television screen. “What are you watching?”

She gritted her teeth, knowing how the answer would sound. “CNN. I have it on almost all the time. Geeky, I know, since there are so many news outlets available. But I like watching other journalists and how they present themselves and the news.”

He nodded and sat in one of the upholstered chairs that flanked the sofa. “You’re dedicated,” he said quietly. “I like that.”

A surge of electricity radiated from his gaze that made goose bumps spring up on Kendall’s arms. “You said you came here with a peace offering.” She needed to change the subject before she melted into the couch. “But I probably deserved what you did to me.”

He blinked a couple of times before answering, as if he’d also been trapped in the current that flowed between them. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said finally, his tone innocent. The effect was ruined when he winked at her.

“Be honest. You got yourself on the Silver Creek project because you were mad I wouldn’t go out with you when I thought you were a gardener.”

“Am I more your type with a couple of letters behind my name?”

“Yes. I mean, no.” She shook her head. “I can’t think straight when I’m around you.”

“And that’s bad because . . .”

“That’s bad because I need to believe you’re not a part of the story only to get back at me. This assignment is important, Ty, and not just because of what it means to my career. The Silver Creek community went through hell during the fire. Those people need to be recognized for how they’ve rebuilt their community.”

His gaze turned serious. “I understand the importance of Silver Creek. There’s no one better than me for this project.”

“Maybe,” she admitted, “but for your professional reputation only. As for the rest of you . . .” She waved her hand in front of him. “You’re a distraction I can’t afford right now. I’ve got three blind dates looming and need to do my best to retain my dignity so I can be taken seriously in New York. I don’t have time for personal complications.”

He lifted his palm in front of his mouth and pretended to yawn.

She tried another tack. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It isn’t what you do for a living that made me say no to a date. Like I asked in the coffee shop, why do you even care? I’m sure you have lots of women who’d like to date you. Why bother with me?”

He shook his head. “Princess, I’ve been asking myself that same question for the past two days.”

“I am
not
a princess,” she muttered.

He stood and walked the two steps that separated the chair from the sofa. When he sat next to her, his denim-clad knee brushed the thin cotton fabric of her sweatpants. A flash of heat shot through her and she looked down at her leg, half expecting the material to have been singed by the light contact.

When she looked up, Ty was watching her with an unreadable expression. His eyes were dilated, making them look almost more black than blue. This close she could see the fine network of lines that spread out from their corners. She wanted to trace those lines with her finger and run her hand along the hard contour of his jaw where sand-colored stubble covered his skin.

His gaze traveled across her face as if she were the main dish on his favorite restaurant’s menu. “I don’t know what it is, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the crash.” He touched his finger to the tip of her nose. “You are the most irritating woman I’ve ever met,” he murmured as his eyes devoured her. “Stubborn, snooty, argumentative . . .”

She started to move away. “Is this your idea of sweet talk? I’m shocked you’re still on the market.”

Ty caught the material of her T-shirt between two fingers and pulled her back. “Let me finish. You are also exciting, passionate, hardworking, smart, and sexy. Jesus, sexy should be at the top of the list. You’ve got me tied in knots.” He smiled. “You say the word
ratings
and it’s like you’re talking dirty.”

“Ratings, ratings, ratings.”

A wide grin spread across his face. “There you go again with your combative nature.”

His features blurred as he brought his face closer to hers. He was going to kiss her. At this moment, she wanted his mouth on hers more than she wanted the regional Emmy, more than she wanted the job in New York, more than she wanted to breathe.

The realization terrified her.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

He stopped a hair’s breadth from her mouth. He said nothing, made no move to back away, made no move closer. “Tell me you don’t want this,” he said, his voice thick.

“Shhh,” she whispered. “I need to think.”

“You think too much.”

Kendall watched his mouth form the words. God, his mouth was beautiful. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she did exactly what she wanted to with no thought to the consequences. She traced the seam of his lips with her tongue. She heard his sharp intake of breath, felt the tightly reined desire pulsing through him. His lips were as soft as the petals of the flowers he’d given her, a sharp contrast to his hard-etched features and lean body. They tasted like salt and man and ChapStick. She licked her way from corner to corner while Ty stayed perfectly still.