Fireside (31 page)

“I am,” he agreed. “And you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because when it comes to you, I think mushy thoughts and I’m not embarrassed or anything.”

“I’m not embarrassed, either,” she said, her voice shaking in a way that touched his heart. “And you’re right—this is the most beautiful place on earth, and I’m glad we’re here. And—” She broke off.

“And what?”

“And I wish you would kiss me instead of just talking about it.”

He touched her face, one hand cradling her cheek. “My thoughts exactly.” He slid his other hand around behind her, pulling her against him and holding her so close he could feel the rhythm of her breathing. His heart was beating so hard, he was sure she could tell. He didn’t care, though.

Their lips were close, almost touching. He whispered her name, and then settled his mouth over hers, drawing a light gasp from her. She put her arms around him, and he deepened the kiss, parting her lips, his tongue slow and languid. She tasted delicious, and her hair smelled like the snowy air, and it was the perfect moment Bo had been thinking about practically from the day he’d met her. He knew that as long as he lived, and no matter what else happened to him for the rest of his life, he would never forget this moment.

With a groan of reluctance, he ended the kiss, holding her for a moment and then pulling back.

She let out a sigh and rested her head on his shoulder. They sat for a long time together, neither of them speaking as they watched the moon over the lake, outlining the forested mountaintops in the distance. It was a scene of such quiet splendor that it felt almost holy.

“What’s that smile?” he asked, gazing down at her.

“Just…everything. You were right about the kiss.”

He smiled back. “Yeah?”

“I’ll never forget it.”

“Me, neither. I’m going to be thinking about that kiss for a long, long time. Like, forever. I probably won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

Bo had always thought he’d known what love felt like. He’d loved other women, but he’d never experienced this intensity. It was an expansive feeling in his chest, both sweet and searing, almost but not quite to the point of pain.

She caught him studying her. “You’re not watching the moon,” she said.

“I’m watching you.”

He kissed her again and once again, soft and romantic, but also slow and sexy. The kind of kiss that made him wish there was nothing between them, nothing at all. Bo had made out with a lot of women through the years, but with Kim, each kiss felt like the first time—new and undiscovered, exciting. He could feel her body respond before common sense told her not to. He couldn’t remember ever wanting to make love to a woman more than he did right at this moment. He sensed an answering need in her, but that was probably wishful thinking on his part, because after a lingering kiss, she pulled away.

“That was…nice,” she said. “I’m not getting involved with you, though.”

“Then why do you keep making out with me?” He moved toward her, slipped his arms around her from behind.

She sighed, reclining back against him. “This is why,” she said quietly. “Because it feels so…” Her voice trailed away on another sigh as he bent his head to gently nip her shoulder.

“Come on, honey,” he said. “Let’s get involved, what do you say?”

Women were so damned easy to love. They had sweet voices. They were soft in all the right places and they smelled so good. And they tasted like…He groaned, leaned down and kissed her again, just at the top of her clavicle.

“It’s a bad idea,” she said. “That’s why. And stop doing those things. I can’t think when you act like this.”

“That’s the plan.”

“It’s not my plan.” Yet it seemed genuinely hard for her to move away from him. “You’re a client. I don’t get involved with clients.”

“What about Lloyd Johnson?”

When she pulled back, Bo could see the surprise on her face. “He’s the reason I made that rule,” she said.

In addition to what Kim had told Bo, he’d done some digging on his own. Johnson was NBA royalty, the whole package of talent, looks and marketability. According to the gossip blogs on the Internet, Lloyd and Kim had been serious right up until a nasty, public breakup. The commentators all pointed the finger right at Kim, accusing her of being controlling, manipulative and jealous. Of course, the commentators hadn’t seen her in the morning after the big drama, in a skimpy evening gown and dark glasses at the airport.

“Listen,” he said, “whatever Johnson did to you, whatever he was to you—I’m not him.”

“Exactly. Because we’re not getting involved. It’s a new policy of mine. No personal involvement with a client. I’m not going to let you turn into another one of my bad choices.”

“Fine, then. You’re fired.”

She let out a brief laugh. “Right. So you’d rather have me than a career.”

He figured he could win her over if he said the romantic thing—
To hell with the career, it’s you I want
—but he’d never been good at lying. He tugged her toward him and said, “I want it all—the career, the girl, the white picket fence…well, maybe no fence.”

She slid away from him. “Right. You just want to get laid.”

“Let’s think about that a moment,” he said. “Here I am with my golden highlights, in a hot tub with the hottest girl I’ve ever seen, a girl who by the way, kisses like a goddess and tastes like candy from heaven. And you assume I want to get laid.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Hell, you’re so far from being wrong I can’t even tell you. And in case you’re wondering, we
are
involved. It
is
personal. I felt involved even when we were two strangers at the airport. So don’t give me this ‘I don’t get involved with clients’ shit. I’m not buying it.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” She moved away from him in the water, settling on the opposite side of the tub. Droplets of water beaded in her hair and eyelashes, and she looked so pretty he had to remind himself not to groan aloud. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Quit staring at me.”

“Sorry. No can do.”

“Whatever. Stare all you like. I’m not changing my mind.”

“Nope,” he said, “that’s my job—to change your mind.”

“Don’t waste your time.” She laid her head back on the rounded edge of the tub and gazed up at the stars. “When I was little, I used to think the stars were holes in the sky and that their light belonged to another world, and we could only see a little bit of it, seeping through the holes, like the sun through a pinhole camera.”

He reached out, tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Maybe that’s just what they are.”

“Right, that’s me. A real rocket scientist.”

“Rocket scientists. What the hell do they know?”

“Rockets, for one thing. And science.”

“I thought the stars were a bunch of eyes, watching me,” Bo said.

“We’re a couple of geniuses.” She made the first move, levering herself up and out of the tub. The steam rolled off her in waves, making her look even more like a creature from another world. A Titian-haired goddess—that was a phrase he learned from reading Penny’s old books of poetry. Kim embodied a kind of otherworldly beauty that made his eyes ache, yet he couldn’t look away. When she grabbed one of the big white robes and covered herself, Bo came as close to crying as he ever had in his adult life.

Twenty

E
ver since the New York scare, Bo was hypervigilant when it came to AJ. He slept lightly, his senses attuned to his son in the alcove bed. If AJ so much as sighed in his sleep, Bo tended to spring awake. He kept telling himself to relax. AJ seemed resigned to his fate. According to his teachers, he was cooperative and quiet. He seemed to be settling in.

Although there had been no further running away or truancy, Bo couldn’t help worrying. He sensed AJ wasn’t settling in at all. He was guarded, wearing attitude like body armor and keeping his distance from people.

Bo knew what it was like to be a boy on fire, restless and watchful, thrumming with impatience. He knew how it felt when you yearned to make something happen, even if it meant doing something foolish. God knew, he’d been there himself, once upon a time.

Each morning, Bo stood at the front door of the house, watching until AJ boarded the school bus. Every afternoon, he stood in the same spot, waiting to see him get off and head home. Bo’s stomach always knotted up until he saw the boy actually appear.

The sun was making a rare appearance this afternoon, turning the yard into a field of diamonds.

When Kim came into the vestibule, interrupting his afternoon vigil, Bo gladly welcomed the distraction. He found her extremely distracting. After the photo shoot, he’d theorized that the rush of emotions he got from kissing her might have been the result of unwinding after a long day. It wouldn’t be the first time his heart lied to him. Yet instead of subsiding, his feelings for her escalated. With everything else on his plate, he hadn’t yet figured out what to do about that.

“You’re hovering,” she said, joining him at the front window. “Ever since AJ went to New York, you’ve been hovering.”

“Do you blame me?”

“No, it’s understandable. Not helpful, but understandable.”

“I feel bad for AJ,” Bo said. “He still hates it here.”

“Has he told you that?”

“No need. It’s obvious. He writes letters to his mother, and we have no way of knowing if they ever get to her. That kills me, and I can only imagine what it’s doing to him. He’s not making friends, not really doing anything other than marking time. That’s no way to live your life.”

“And you know this because…?” she prompted.

“Because he’s waiting around for something to happen…people spend their lives that way, and then they look back and wonder what the hell happened to all the time.”

“Is this the voice of experience talking?”

“It’s one of the reasons I pursued Independent League baseball instead of taking the traditional path in the minors. When you’re waiting around to be tapped for a major-league team, you’re so focused on the future that you miss what’s happening right under your nose. I’ve seen ballplayers get so busy looking ahead to the next move that they forget where they are. That’s the silver lining to my long wait for the Yankees. I quit focusing on getting there and figured out how to live my life in the here and now.”

“I like that,” she said quietly. “But how do you get him to think like that?”

“Good question.” He turned away from the window, reminding himself AJ would get home when he got home. “I sure as hell don’t want him to look back on this time in his life and see nothing but trouble. A boy deserves to be happy.” He noticed the way she was watching him, her face thoughtful, her smile soft. Christ, where had this woman been all his life? And how could he get her to stay? “What?” he asked.

“You’re a philosopher,” she said. “Where’d that come from?”

“Dunno.” He found himself remembering his mother. Almost up to the day she died, she had drifted from moment to moment, convinced she’d find the right man, the right job, the right life, if only she waited patiently enough. Even when he was little, he’d felt her looking beyond him, trying to see past him. He remembered yearning for more attention from her, but ultimately, she couldn’t give him what he needed.

He pictured the way Kim was with AJ, hanging out with him, helping him with homework.
I love kids,
she’d told Daisy.

Unaware of his thoughts, she said, “How about making a fire in the living room? AJ might like that with his afternoon snack.”

The living room had a big, old-fashioned fireplace with a marble mantel and a neat stack of split wood in a box on the hearth. He busied himself laying the fire. “I know I can’t force the kid to like it here, and nothing’s going to feel right to him until he’s back with his mother. Still, I wish I could do something to make him feel more at home.”

She handed him a box of kitchen matches. “Let’s think of something fun for him to do this weekend. The weather is looking promising.”

“Promising. Like the temperature could shoot up above freezing? I could take him to the video arcade. Or to a movie.” He struck a match, touched it to the crumpled paper under the logs.

“Not that kind of fun. Kids can do that anywhere. He should do something new, something he can only do here.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “What did you have in mind?”

“Snowboarding at Saddle Mountain.”

He threw back his head and let out a belly laugh. “You crack me up, lady. You really do.”

“I’m not kidding. Boys his age love snowboarding.
I
love snowboarding. I bet he’d do great.”

“Fine,
you
take him up the mountain. I’ll just stay home by the fire.” He lit another match, then leaned down to blow on the small flame.

“No way. The whole point is for you to do something together. He’s been without you long enough. So you’re coming with us.”

The tiny flame caught and flared, licking at the dry firewood. “I’m an athlete. What if I blow out a knee? Hurt my shoulder?”

“Don’t be a baby. You’ll be fine.”

“We’re supposed to be working on my image.”

“I thought you wanted to show AJ how great it is to live here.”

“What’s great about sliding down a mountain?” He shuddered at the thought.

“We’re taking him snowboarding.”

“I’ll fall on my butt and freeze to death,” Bo grumbled. The log caught, crackling brightly.

At that moment, AJ came into the room, his backpack dragging at one shoulder, his jacket hanging open. “Cool,” he said. “That’s something I’d like to see.”

“Smart-ass,” Bo said.

Kim smacked his arm. “Watch your mouth.” She turned to AJ. “We didn’t hear you come in. How was school?” She held up her hand. “No, don’t answer that. Bo and I were talking about finding some fun things for you to do while you’re here. We’re going up to Saddle Mountain for some snowboarding. You up for that?”

Excitement flashed in his eyes, but he masked it quickly. “I guess.”

She sent Bo a smug smile. “You’re outvoted.”