Kissing Kendall (11 page)

He flung to the ground the papers he had in his hand and stepped forward, close enough that she could practically feel his temper radiating from his body. “That Rick is not the man for you.”

Her body tensed at the heat in his voice, but for some reason she continued to challenge him. “Ha, like you would know.”

“I
would
know.”

She glared at him. “What kind of man
is
for me then?”

Brad’s gaze darkened and something new and intense flickered between them. He took another step forward. “You deserve a man who’ll take you in his arms.” Then in one forward motion, he pulled her to him and that’s exactly where she was.

And it felt…heavenly.

In his embrace, her thoughts all clogged together and she had a tough time even remembering how they had ended up entwined on her front porch in the first place. She looked up and noticed he was watching her intently, maybe judging her reaction to being held so close to him or whether or not he’d proven his point.

His lips slowly traveled to her ear. “You deserve a man who makes your knees go weak.”

She swallowed. Weak knees?
Check.
In fact, her knees were more than weak; they were downright overcooked noodles.

Her heart pounded an erratic rhythm, but she cleared her throat, pretending not to be affected. “You seem to think you know a lot about what kind of man is right for me.”

“I do,” he murmured. His lips were so close; they grazed her earlobes and were brushing along her jawbone in light wispy movements. “And I definitely know the right man for you is not the kind of man who’s going to settle for a mere good-night peck on the cheek at the end of your first date.”

“He’s not?” she whispered, suddenly at a loss for breath.

Brad’s lips began drawing closer to her mouth. “No, he’s not. Because the man for you has been dreaming about your mouth ever since he first laid eyes on you. So he won’t be able to handle one more second without knowing the feel of your lips beneath his own.”

Kendall jerked her head back, knowing what he intended to do next. An embrace was one thing; a kiss was something else. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

She met his smoky gaze and a little traitorous flutter of anticipation settled in her stomach. “Brad—”

Then there was no more anticipation. No more waiting.

She wasn’t sure who kissed whom first—their lips seemed to have met in one fluid motion—and now she clung to him, kissing him with all the demand his lips had for hers.

Brad’s hands traveled up and got caught in the waves of her hair, holding her close as he continued to explore every inch of her mouth. The urgency of his lips overwhelmed her. She had never felt so wanted or so thoroughly kissed before in her life, and she gave herself freely to his passion. It had been so long since she’d felt this way. She had no idea what Brad was thinking, but she shocked herself at her own eager response to him.

Her senses began to reel, and she swayed, falling back. Brad, obviously not wanting to break lip contact, followed her. But when her elbow hit the storm door, Deuce started barking, jarring them both back to reality.

Their mouths broke apart, but Brad still held her in his arms as they struggled to catch their breath. With each second of awkward panting, a little bit more of her sanity returned.

What had they done? What had
she
done? Aside from making out on her front porch like a sixteen-year-old for all her neighbors to see. Her cheeks grew hot and felt ready to melt off her face. She closed her eyes and prayed for a way out of this situation as she heard Brad continuing to gasp for air and her dog barking in the background.

She twisted in his arms, needing to distance herself, but Brad’s grip grew tighter. He always was a man who didn’t run away from problems. And he obviously wasn’t going to make this easy and let her escape now.

She stopped struggling. “I should go check on Deuce,” she said, her face still burning in remembrance of what they had just done.

Brad dipped his head to look her in the eyes. “Kendall…”

Her stomach twisted.
Oh, no. Please. Don’t tell me you’re sorry.
Temporary insanity; overworked, underpaid; full moon in retrograde;
anything
but that he was sorry he had kissed her. She couldn’t deal with
his
guilt and remorse right now when she had so much of her own.

“I wish I could say I was sorry,” he finished.

“I know you’re— Wait.” Her head snapped up and she blinked. “You’re not sorry?”

Brad reached out and gently cradled her face in his hands. “I am, but I’m not. I’ve wanted this, wanted to kiss you—
really
kiss you—for so long. Longer than I can remember.”

“You have?”

He dropped his hands and nodded gravely. “This isn’t some whim for me. I wanted it. And you obviously wanted it too.”

She lowered her eyes, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. “I—I can’t think.” Although she
had
wanted to kiss him, she was still processing that in her mind and how she felt about it.

“You may not want to hear this right now, but you should know that I’ve had feelings for you for a while. Even when you were with Jake. I’ve tried to ignore them. Then…I don’t know, seeing you with Rick…it just made me crazy and I reacted. But I want you to know, even though it’s not what I planned, I’m not sorry this happened. Not in the least. In fact,” he said, grinning wickedly, “I’d like to do more of it.”

So would I
, her mind whispered. But in the end she knew it would be harder to walk away if that happened. She couldn’t deny she was attracted to Brad and that she wanted another kiss as much as he did, but she couldn’t let it progress into anything more. So while her body was doing a full-on Snoopy dance at the prospect of kissing Brad for a little while longer, her mind and thoughts gathered rationale and strength.

“No, we—I—can’t do more of
that
,” she told him.

He chuckled off her comment, gathering her in his arms again. “Well, maybe we should test that theory out just to be sure.”

The heady sensation of his lips against hers almost made her swoon, but she caught herself in time and pushed him away from her. “No, I really can’t. At least, not with you.”

Brad dropped his arms with a frown. “What do you mean, not with me? Are you saying I misread that kiss? Honey, I know what I felt and I definitely didn’t feel any
I-can’t
s just then.”

True. There weren’t any
I-can’t
s in that kiss she gave him. In fact, there was a whole shipment of
I’m-willing-and-more-than-able
s on both their ends. But that didn’t make it right. That didn’t mean they could have a future together.

She looked down at her feet, unable to stand the hurt and frustration she saw in Brad’s clear blue eyes. “I’m really touched, but I—I don’t know what more to say.”

“Saying you feel the same way I do would be a really good start.”

Drawing in a sharp breath, she shook her head. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not? Because you still miss Jake?”

Kendall had to look away. Yes, she did miss Jake. Probably always would. But Brad made her feel things she hadn’t felt in years—maybe not ever. It was so tempting to throw caution to the wind and fall into his arms, but she’d only hurt them both in the end. She wasn’t ready to open her heart to him—not if it meant losing him the same way she’d lost Jake.

“This isn’t about me missing Jake. Just please stop making this more difficult than it has to be. I’m sorry. I think it would be better for both of us if we remained friends. I can’t—I won’t—lose your friendship. It’s too important to me. So please don’t push. Not now.”

Brad stared at her in silence, his eyes narrowing as if he could see her heart pounding nervously though her heavy sweater jacket. With each agonizing heartbeat, she expected him to call her a liar or argue her logic.

“Friends,” he finally said, but there was a definite distaste laced in that simple word. “Yeah, we’ve been friends for a long time. Wouldn’t want to mess up an old friendship.”

“Right,” she said with a frown. She would never want to mess up her friendship with him. Though she had a feeling the friendship had already taken a big blow, based on Brad’s expression. As hard as it was, detachment was for the best. She couldn’t get involved with Brad—not someone who risked his life on a daily basis. She just…couldn’t. She wasn’t ready to risk her heart.

Brad rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. She was sure it was out of pure frustration, but a small part of her thought he was trying to wipe away any lasting remnant of their kiss, and that pinched her heart.

“Okay,” he relented. “I’m not going to push.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her throat suddenly feeling dry and scratchy.

“I guess I should go then…
friend
.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I guess that would be a good idea.”

Reluctantly, he turned and walked away, his movements stiff and awkward. She hated how they were leaving things. How could something so wonderful end so awful? Her heart was aching enough over everything that had just happened, everything she’d said.

“Brad,” she blurted.

He stopped and looked at her, his eyebrows raised questioningly.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. It was the only thing she could think of to say. But she truly was.

His lips tightened. “Not half as sorry as I am.”

…

Brad got up with the sun the next morning after a restless night’s sleep. Without shaving or having a cup of coffee, he decided to take his frustrations out on the only person he could. The only person who he was sure had something to do with the pure misery he was feeling right now.

He couldn’t believe what had happened last night. Even though he replayed the scene with Kendall over and over again in his mind, it was still hard to accept.

He had actually kissed Kendall. And just like that, it was as if he’d been handed a little touch of heaven. No, better than that—her lips were every fantasy he had ever had about her all rolled into one. So of course in his overexcited-anxious haze, he went ahead and told her how he felt.

And she didn’t want him.

Or so she said. The way she returned his kiss told another story. But he hadn’t pressed her. A part of him had even felt that somewhere up there, Jake had gotten a pretty good laugh out of Kendall rejecting him. And maybe Brad deserved that pain. At least he was alive to feel it.

Arriving at his sister’s house, he picked up the paper, stormed up the driveway, and punched the doorbell.

A few moments later, Walt opened the door with a confused grin. “Hey, man, it’s a little early for a social visit.” Then he slowly took in Brad’s unshaven appearance as well as his rushed attire of mesh gym shorts, flip-flops, and white T-shirt. “Um, you feeling okay?”

“Perfect,” Brad muttered.

Walt arched a brow. “I can see that. So what brings you by so bright and
early
?”

Brad handed him the newspaper he’d picked up off the driveway. “Just here to give you this, and, of course, to throttle your wife.”

“Oh. Well, come on in, then,” Walt said, not missing a beat. He swung the door open wider for Brad to pass.

Georgie came shuffling out of the back bedroom wrapped in a fuzzy pink robe and rubbing one eye. As soon as Brad saw her, his arm shot out. “You,” he said, menacingly pointing his finger.

Georgie dropped her arm and blinked.
“Me?”

“Yes, you,” he said, rounding in on her. “What kind of no-good sister are you, anyway?”

She looked at Walt, then back at Brad. “I beg your pardon?”

“You are so damn lucky you’re pregnant. Because if I didn’t have my future niece or nephew to think about, I’d strangle you, then skin you alive and leave the remains of your carcass out on the beach for the seagulls to pick at.”

Georgie backed away, drawing the lapels of her robe closely against her neck. “Are you mad at me or something?”

Brad threw his hands up in the air. “Of course I’m mad at you! How could you talk Kendall into dating—and worse, how could you set her up on a date with Rick?
Rick?
For real? Honestly, what were you thinking?”

“
That’s
what you’re mad about?” Georgie gaped at him. “Well, Mr. Twenty Questions, I was
thinking
that I was being a good friend. I was
thinking
that Kendall had been alone for too long. And I was
thinking
that Kendall deserved a nice man like Rick in her life.”

“Well, you thought wrong. She doesn’t deserve a nice man in her life. She deserves
me
!” He opened his mouth to add more, then closed it again when he noticed how still Walt and Georgie had gotten.

Oh, crap. The cat was officially out of the bag.

What the hell was he even yelling about? All he knew was that he and Kendall had some real connections lately, and then they’d shared that kiss—that amazing, mind-blowing kiss—which had offered him hope. Hope he didn’t have a right to harbor but desperately wanted anyway.

Walt came up behind Brad and put a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe you should sit down,” he suggested.

Brad rubbed a hand over his head and nodded. Yeah, Walt had a point. He needed to calm down. One thing was for certain: no sleep, no coffee, and no woman-of-his-dreams could make a man damn edgy.

As soon as he made it over to the couch, he sank like a stone, letting his head drop back as if all the weight of the world was attached to it. “Rick is so wrong for her,” he groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“Easy, Brad,” Georgie said in a soothing tone. “Try to remember that Rick is your friend, therefore, you do happen to like him.”

“
Wrong
. I don’t like him,” he countered, knowing he sounded petulant and not caring. “Not anymore.” He spread his fingers and peered up at his sister through one eye. “I don’t even like
you
anymore.”

“Oh God, stop being such a baby. Rick and Kendall went out to one dinner together. Big deal. Okay, maybe they caught a movie, too. And I think Kendall mentioned they would stop for coffee at that cute little cappuccino place by—”