Suddenly Sexy (3 page)

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Authors: Linda Francis Lee

Tags: #Women television journalists, #Man-woman relationships, #Single women, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Adult, #Fiction, #Athletes, #Texas, #Love stories

BOOK: Suddenly Sexy
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To: Chloe Sinclair
From: Katherine Bloom
Subject: I never screamed
There was
no screaming.
Strangling, almost. But justifiably, since Julia told Jesse Chapman he
could stay at my house. Jesse! At my house! I can't do this. You
should see him. He looks great.
Adonis great. Seven Wonders of the World great. But I don't want
him looking great in my backyard!
K, who has some integrity left and will not ask any man of the law to
take off his shirt
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

To: Katherine Bloom
From: Chloe Sinclair
Subject: No!
Jesse is
back in town?? Where is
he? Why didn't anyone tell me?!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

To: Chloe Sinclair
From: Katherine Bloom
Subject: Excuse me!
I repeat, I
can't possibly have
Jesse living in my backyard. Do I need to remind you that we are
talking about the man who has accumulated female conquests like golf
trophies? Meadowlark
Drive is a quiet, respectable neighborhood. Do you want him to turn my
house into the Playboy Mansion? Okay, maybe the Playboy mansionette,
but still, I really can't have him here.
K
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

To: Katherine Bloom
      Chloe Sinclair
From: Julia Boudreaux @
ktextv.com>
Subject: The only solution
Kate, Chloe
has just filled me in.
And I must say, where else could Jesse possibly stay? A hotel is out.
He's family, for God's sake. His brother married your sister, though we
all know that the real reason he can't stay with Suzanne and Derek is
because they're in the middle of doing who knows what in their
desperate attempt to get pregnant. (Did I tell you about the tiff I
overheard them have regarding dirty magazines, closed doors, and Dixie
cups?)
As to my house, I have more than enough men in my life to juggle
as it is. And while Chloe darling hasn't dated anyone recently
(recently being kinder than me saying Not in RECENT history), we
are working on that. Having Jesse underfoot might give some nice young
man the wrong
impression. Which leaves
you, Kate dear. Even if you would
finally give in and commit to the divinely wonderful Parker Hammond, he
has known Jesse forever and will understand. So it's
done. Jesse stays in the guest cottage. And you better be nice.
Besides, you seem to have
forgotten that Jesse isn't just a bad boy anymore. He's our very own
hero.
xo.j

 

p.s. That was fabulous TV this morning. Ratings went through the
roof. Who knew that our little Kate had it in her to heat up the
screen. Brava! Let's meet at Bobby's Place on Friday to celebrate!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two
Kate crossed her ankles as she sat on the high stool at the girls'
favorite hangout, Bobby's Place. Two days of trying to pretend that she
was unaffected by the reality of having Jesse firmly installed in the
cottage behind her house had taken its toll.
How could it be so hard to not pay attention to someone?
Of course, truth to tell, she hadn't had to work all that hard to
ignore him. He had been gone more than he'd been there, his black Jeep
rarely parked in the drive, his lights seldom on, at least until he
would come in late, when the rest of the normal, not-wild population
was sound asleep. Though she was
almost certain he hadn't brought a single woman home. Both nights he
had returned, gotten something
out of his car, then gone for a walk.
Not that she was keeping track. Really. The first night she'd been up
drinking tea when he arrived.
Then last night, she'd been preparing for her rodeo cowboy while
indulging in a Fiddle Faddle fest
and 99-cent-special video marathon. What better way to keep Jesse
Chapman out of her head than by consuming massive amounts of caramel
corn and watching an entire season of Sex and the City in twenty-four
hours?
Her stomach roiled at the memory, and she had the altogether foreign
desire to go shopping for shoes— preferably high heeled and strappy.
Tonight, after leaving work, she had headed for Bobby's Place to meet
Julia and Chloe. She was the
first one to arrive, and she sat at the bar. She could see the door in
the hazy mirrors on the four-sided backsplash. The giant Tiffany
chandelier overhead cast the room in a golden light, while the sweet
sounds of George Strait filled the place, wrapping around the dancers
who swished and swirled by in
a smooth-as-silk Texas two-step.
"I can't stay long," Julia announced as soon as she got there, her
charm bracelet jangling against the bar when she sat down. "I have a
date."
Chloe came in right behind her, hopping up onto a stool, looking like a
little girl in a soda shop with her shoulder-length dark hair, china
doll bangs, big blue eyes circled by long lashes, and a sprinkling of
freckles across the bridge of her nose. "Who are you going out with
tonight?"
"Roberto." Julia rolled the r dramatically.
"Never heard you talk about any Robertos."
"He's new."
Julia ordered a glass of wine, Chloe a strawberry daiquiri. Kate asked
for the Sex and the City drink
of choice—a cosmo. Chloe and Julia looked at Kate in surprise.
"A cosmo?" Julia asked.
"Let's just call it research."
Suddenly all three had cosmos sitting in front of them.
"To research," they said, clinking their drinks.
They were silent for a second, each lost in her thoughts. Though there
was no question all of them
were thinking about the same thing—or the same man.
Chloe said, "I can't believe Jesse's back. He looks great."
"Yeah, he looks great," Kate agreed.
"He always looks great." Julia stirred her drink. "I remember the first
time I realized how good-looking
he was. It was that day with the horrible storm. You were up in the
tree house that used to be in your backyard. He went charging up there
to get you down."
Kate groaned. "I don't want to talk about the tree house."
"You mean, you don't want to talk about the place where you declared
your undying love," Julia teased.
"To Jesse," Chloe clarified.
"Just before he left for college," Julia added.
"Thanks for the reminder," Kate stated crisply.
"Sorry," Julia said with a smile, and she squeezed Kate's hand. "It's
just too cute to remember you up
in that tree demanding that Jesse wait for you to grow up."
"The fact that he didn't wait makes the memory a whole lot less cute in
my book," Kate noted.
"Thank God, he didn't wait," Chloe added. "I mean, really. I adore
Jesse as much as the next girl, but
we all know he's trouble."
No sooner did Julia finish her drink than she glanced at her watch and
said, "Look at the time. I've got
to run. Roberto will be waiting."
She was out the door in a whiff of perfume and scads of long
black-lacquer hair.
"We should go, too," Kate said.
"Let me run to the restroom first."
Kate pulled a lip gloss from her purse while she waited, but paused
mid-swipe when Jesse walked
through the door.
"Jesse!" several people cheered.
The minute she saw him her heart leaped, every inch of her skin
tingling with awareness. Without turning around, she watched him in the
hazy mirrors. He was beautiful in a ruggedly sensual sort of way. He
wore a starched blue button-down shirt tonight, tucked into the
Wrangler jeans that fit him like a second skin, molding to his strong
thighs. His dark hair shimmered in the light, his smile broad and easy
as he greeted the crowd.
Determined not to fall prey to Jesse's orbital pull, she picked up her
drink for one last sip. But before
she could get the rim to her lips, her eyes caught Jesse's in the
mirror.
She saw his expression change. At first he looked confused to find her
here, in a bar. Then, with their gazes locked in the mirror, he ambled
straight toward her, his cocky athlete's body both graceful and
filled with power at the same time, his sensual lips pulling up at one
corner in a wry grin.
She gripped her drink nervously as the crush of people parted to let
him through. He stopped just behind the bar stool and studied her
reflection. She couldn't bring herself to look away.
Slowly, he turned her around on the swivel stool until she faced him,
her head tilting back. Without a word he tugged the long-stemmed glass
from her fingers and set it aside, then he took her hand and
pulled her onto the dance floor.
It was like she couldn't do anything else. She stepped into his
embrace—one arm hooking over her shoulders, the other extended as he
held her hand—and she slipped her fingers through his back belt
loop. It was the Texans' way of dancing. But the charge between them
was universal, instant, and
electric as she looked up into his eyes.
The slow sweet sounds of an old Garth Brooks ballad wrapped around them
as he guided her along, a sprinkling of sawdust making the sound of
leather-soled boots sliding over hardwood swish just below
the music. With every turn they took, his thigh slipped between her own
in a way that would have been considered foreplay in any other state.
"Hello, Katie," he said finally, his lips against her temple.
"Hello, Jesse."
The feel of his arm around her, of her hand gripped in his strong palm,
was heady, quickening her blood like an extra sip of a cosmo.
"You've been busy the last couple of days," he said, easy amusement
lacing his deep voice. "Working late."
"What do you mean?"
"Last night your light was on until two in the morning."
She told herself not to care that he noticed. "A morning television
host's work is never done."
The corner of his mouth crooked devilishly as if he didn't believe a
word of it just as the music came to an end. She started away but he
didn't let her go. "One more."
"But Chloe—"
"Chloe's talking to Lacey and Bobby Mclntyre. She's fine."
He turned her around, then guided her in a fast-paced, three-step
country waltz.
Despite herself, all reservations and careful behavior fled completely.
Before long she even laughed. Leave it to a man like Jesse to make a
woman forget everything but his charm.
"Now see, that's not so hard," he said with a grin.
"What? Dancing?"
"No, smiling."
"I smile."
"Not very often anymore as far as I can tell."
"What do you know about how often I smile—"
He spun her out, twirling her around once, twice, a third time as they
continued with the flow of
dancers in a wide arcing circle, before he reeled her back, all in
perfect time with the beat.
"—since you haven't been in town more than a few days."
"I've known you for as long as I can remember," he whispered gruffly.
"But haven't been around long enough in the last thirteen years to know
if I smile or not."
"Let's just say it's a sixth sense I have."
"Knowing if a person smiles?"
"Knowing when a woman's unhappy."
"Certain women," she shot back. "Maybe. And then only because you're
responsible for making them
that way."
He actually missed a step. Then his eyes glittered appreciatively
before he laughed loud and strong. Women turned to look, their gazes
wistful.
With every turn and touch, Kate forgot about ratings and viewer polls.
Whether it was the music, the drink, or too much Fiddle Faddle and
videos, she forgot.
"I thought your cooking show turned out all right."
She laughed again. "You have a bad habit of coming to my rescue."
"You have a bad habit of needing to be rescued."
"That's not true!"
"You just said it yourself." His eyes gleamed as he glanced down at
her. "Remember the time you
were in fifth grade, surrounded by those sixth-grade boys?"
"Hey, Billy Weeks said I threw like a girl."
"You are a girl."
"But I never threw like one. And I would have proven it if you hadn't
interrupted."
"You were about to punch him in the nose. He would have punched you
right back. Weeks wasn't opposed to hitting girls."
Kate sniffed, disgruntled, knowing he was right.
Jesse warmed to his topic. "That reminds me of another time I saved
your ass. The day in the tree house."
Her mouth fell open in disbelieving astonishment. "You didn't save me.
On top of which, I'm really tired of your
I-saved-you
theme."
"Funny, I kind of like it. And technically, I think that would be the
I-saved-you-repeatedly
theme." His
dark eyes sparkled. "Plus, it's hard to forget you up in the tree, a
storm to beat all storms whipping every plank and piece of plywood
free. I came up there when no one else could get you to come down. Not
Julia, not Chloe, not your sister."
Kate might have been able to explain away the other incidents, but as
much as she denied that day to
Julia and to Chloe and wanted to deny it to Jesse, the truth was he had
come up into that tree. The wind had been blowing, prying boards away
one by one, just as he said, lightning cracking open the sky. When all
the other kids had given up on her and fled, it was Jesse who climbed
up next to her, not caring how the place groaned beneath the growing
storm. They had both looked out through the leaves, beyond their yards,
the rain starting up, whipping at their faces.
Thankfully he refrained from mentioning the rest of the episode, where
she had turned to look at him, then asked why he had gotten so upset
the night before when she had slipped into his bed. She had
gotten in bed with him dozens of times, but it had been the first time
he had seemed big and grown up,
so much older than she felt at fourteen. She had felt his strong body
against hers, the strange planes
and angles she'd never noticed before.
She had touched him and his whole body had gone still.
She realized now that at fourteen she should have known better. But she
hadn't. With innocent wonder, she had traced the hair along his chest,
following it down his body until suddenly he groaned, grabbing
her hand. Setting her away from him, he had quickly rolled off the
other side of the bed and slammed
out the door.
It was like she had grown up overnight.
The next day, sitting in that tree, she had been confused and upset,
and when he came up to get her, all she knew was that she wanted more
of that touch. She had wanted more of him. And she had told him so,
adding, "
I love you, Jesse
."
She had startled him—she had seen the surprise on his face as the wind
and rain pelted them. Then
finally he had smiled softly, gently.
"I love you, too, Katie, but I don't
love you like that. Besides, I'd only hurt you. It's my job to protect
you from guys like me."
"I don't want you to protect me. I
want you to love me. You and me, we're meant to be together."
He had squeezed her hand, though he was careful to keep a distance
between them they'd never had before, then he pulled her down from the
tree. He had left for college the next morning and never returned for
any length of time, proving her wrong.
Now he was back, holding her close as they danced, the feel of his hard
body as thrilling as it had been that night she slipped into his bed.
But what, she wondered, did she want to do about it?
Better sense told her to steer clear of this man. But all of a sudden,
she was tired of better sense.
Excitement and determination ticked to life at the realization of just
what she planned to do.

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