Kit And Kisses (3 page)

"Probably. So she knows she's not alone."

"You're a brave lady."

She laughed uncomfortably. "I don't think so. Somebody had to stop him. I did it first, that's all."

Grey still had his hand on her shoulder. She was close enough to hold, to kiss, looking up at him, waiting as he was. A bee buzzed outside the window. Leaves swished against each other as the breeze brushed through them. Desire had never seemed so strong.

All he had to do was bend his head...

Before his lips touched hers, Kit's eyelids fluttered and her hands came to rest on Grey's chest. Her touch made him realize this was no fantasy, it was real. And just as Kit had learned her lesson, he'd learned his, too. Letting go of her, he stepped back.

She blinked, then her cheeks got rosy. But her blue eyes became opaque, shutting away her emotions. Turning to the counter, she picked up the delivery slip and handed it to him. Their fingers didn't brush this time, maybe because they both realized they'd flirted with temptation.

Without mentioning what had almost happened, Kit led the way to the living room saying, "Thanks for delivering the ladder."

At her front door, facing her and thinking where a kiss with Kit might have taken them, he said, "Service is one aspect of the store I don't want to change."

"I'll try to remember that. I'll call you when I get a plan worked up."

He nodded. There seemed to be something unfinished between them, something they should verbalize. But Kit's expression said she wouldn't, and he didn't want to make them both uncomfortable since they might be working together. Better to let well enough alone. Better not to discuss what had almost happened in the kitchen. Better not to start dreaming again. Better to take the safe route instead of the risky one.

***

The Music Box was decorated in black and white and hopping with activity. Sheets of black paneling alternated with white on the club's walls while the shimmering silver curtain on stage pulled customers' interest to it. A young man, well, a man younger than Grey, sang into a microphone along with the music, not always synchronized to the melody. Some of his notes weren't on tone, either, as he watched the monitor before him displaying the words to the song. But he was smiling, having fun and, when he looked up during the instrumental bridge, his friends waved at him, giving him a thumbs-up sign.

Grey scanned the tables and found Kit's blond head almost immediately. Coming here had been a last minute decision. He still wasn't exactly sure why he'd decided to come. But thinking about Kit singing had made him change clothes and drive to the club.

Her gaze met his and her mouth opened in surprise. She was sitting with Eric McConnell and a woman who looked very much like Kit, though her hair was longer and wavier. This must be Eric's wife Maggie, Kit's sister.

As Grey approached, Eric raised his hand in greeting and smiled. "Kit said she'd invited you but didn't think you'd come."

Grey wondered what else Kit had said, if she was still thinking about the almost-kiss like he was. He nodded to her. "I figured I could use a night out." He couldn't seem to pull his gaze from hers until Eric nudged his arm.

"This is my wife. Maggie, Grey Corey."

She smiled. "It's nice to meet you. Every time Eric goes to your store, he comes home with a new piece of machinery. Soon he's going to need a workshop out back."

"Is that good or bad?" Grey asked with an answering smile.

"That depends on what comes out of the workshop," she teased.

Eric put his arm around his wife. "She won't use the snack tables I made."

Kit said, "That's because everything slides off. Your level must be defective."

"Not if he bought it at my store," Grey drawled.

Eric laughed as Grey sat next to Kit and a waitress in black shorts and a white satin blouse asked what he wanted to drink.

Kit met his gaze when he looked at her. He liked that about her. "Did you sing yet?"

"No, I'm next. I guess you're just in time. If you want to give it a try, you can add your name to the list." The corners of her lips twitched, and her blue eyes twinkled, daring him.

"I think I'll pass. But I'll watch you very carefully in case I decide to give it a shot in the future." He thought he saw her cheeks pink but it was difficult to tell in the dim light.

Kit tore her gaze from his, pushed her chair back, and stood as the DJ took the microphone from the singer to a smattering of applause. "I'm up. Wish me luck."

Maggie patted her sister's hand. "You don't need it. You're good."

Without meeting Grey's gaze again, Kit headed for the stage.

The waitress brought Grey's drink, but once Kit took the microphone in her hands, he forgot all about it. Kit singing along with a CD in her apartment was one thing. Kit in fuchsia stirrup pants and thigh-length knit shirt singing her heart out to the strains of a popular ballad in front of an audience was quite another. She drew his gaze like the sunrise over the ocean, almost blinding him with her color, her intensity and her enthusiasm for each note.

"She's something, isn't she?" Eric asked rhetorically.

She was beautiful, intelligent, and talented, and he was crazy for being here. He didn't need another complication in his life. He'd told himself he didn't need a woman in his life. He had the store to think about...and Deedee. Eric didn't know about Deedee. In their discussion of woodworking and problems with the store, her name had never come up.

The emotion in Kit's voice snagged Grey's attention and there was no way he could look away.

"So, are you going to hire her?" Eric asked.

Grey knew he shouldn't. Attracted to her, it would be damn difficult to work with her. But he had to think about the future of Corey Hardware. "That depends on what she comes up with."

"It'll be good. She knows her business."

"If the store didn't need help, I wouldn't even consider this. The idea of someone telling me how to run my business doesn't sit well."

"Grey, you yourself said you have to do something. If you don't sell to the Red Bucket Corporation, they're likely to build a store near you. If your business doesn't improve, they'll put you under in a few months."

Grey ran his hand through his hair and watched Kit's hips move in time to the music. Something baser than business grabbed him. Something almost forgotten. Once, Kit seemed to be looking directly at him. He thought her concentration faltered for a moment, but he must have been mistaken. She shifted her stance, facing the other direction, her voice strong and true.

Kit finished the song with a smile, and the club patrons responded with a spontaneous and vigorous round of applause. With a thank you she left the stage and headed for their table as the DJ took over again. Telling everyone the karaoke singers were taking a break and it was time to consider singing along to favorite songs in the next set, he played a Billboard hit.

Eric and Grey both stood as Kit returned to the table. She slipped into a chair and waved them down.

"You were great tonight, but then you always are," Maggie said.

"Are you sure you don't want to do this for money?" Eric asked with a grin. "There are lots of clubs..."

Kit laughed, a sweet, light sound that floated around Grey's head with more potency than the drink he hadn't touched. "Always the bottom line with you, isn't it, Eric? You know I do this for fun. It relieves stress."

He shook his head and chuckled. "Getting up in front of a crowd of people relieves stress. I've heard it all."

She patted his hand. "No, you haven't. You haven't known me long enough."

Grey noted the easy affection between Eric and Kit. "Do you get the chance to sing again?"

"Possibly. It depends how many more patrons sign up."

Grey took a good look at Kit in comparison to her sister. Kit's clothes were vibrant, the sterling silver necklace that looked like an upside down horseshoe was unusual. Maggie, on the other hand, wore pale blue slacks and a matching short-sleeved sweater. A golden heart necklace on a delicate chain hung around her neck.

Couples filled the small dance floor. Grey caught sight of a man sitting at the bar, his gaze on Kit.

Eric took Maggie's hand in his. "Do you want to dance?"

When she smiled and nodded, they excused themselves and found an empty spot near the stage. Kit was turning her glass around on its napkin when the man at the bar started toward her. Grey knew exactly what he wanted and decided to prevent it. Without thinking about the consequences, he asked, "Would you like to dance?"

She hesitated only a moment. "Sure."

They no sooner positioned themselves near Eric and Maggie when the song ended and a slower melody took its place. Eric took his wife into his arms, his brown hair a dark contrast against her blond fairness. They were a handsome couple. A loving couple.

Out of the corner of his eye, Grey could see the man at the bar studying Kit. Without asking her if she wanted to stay on the floor, Grey took her hand and put his arm around her in the standard ballroom position. She tensed, then relaxed into his hold as the music played.

In some ways Grey felt awkward as he had when he was sixteen and asked a girl to dance for the first time. Yet in others, Kit seemed to fit naturally into his arms. "Eric didn't tell me you and Maggie looked so much alike."

Kit smiled. "People often ask if we're twins."

He could feel her heat through her shirt. His thumb made a small circle on her waist. "You and Maggie might look similar, but you're very different, aren't you?"

"Maggie's quieter, more reserved. We reacted to our backgrounds differently."

"Maggie didn't rebel?"

Kit looked surprised that he'd remembered what she'd said. "No."

"And she'd never get up on stage in front of a roomful of people."

"Heck, no!"

He laughed and his arm tightened, drawing her closer. The dance floor was getting more crowded.

Kit's heart thudded, and she wondered if Grey could feel it against his polo shirt because she thought she could feel his. She was aware of his finger, gently stroking along her waist, creating a swirl of feelings inside of her. She wondered if he knew he was doing it. His jeans were coarse against her knit pants as he guided their movement and she followed easily. When he'd walked into The Music Box, she'd felt the air whoosh out of her lungs. He was the last person she'd expected to see here.

After he'd left her apartment, she'd decided she'd read too much into what he'd said, how he'd said it, how close he'd stood. She didn't trust her judgment about men, not since Trent. That's why she hadn't dated. So she could have easily been wrong about the compassion she'd thought she'd heard, the intensity in Grey's eyes the moment before she thought he'd kiss her.

Kiss her? He didn't know her. Why would he want to kiss her? And if this excitement she felt around him was pure chemistry, that was even more reason for her to be on her guard. Hadn't she learned her lesson well?

Except pressed close to him like this, her guard seemed mighty weak. What was wrong with her?

What was wrong was the strength of his arms, the subtle tease of his cologne, her breasts almost touching his chest, his perceptive comments about her and Maggie. Pushing away from him, she asked, "Why did you come tonight?"

He didn't answer right away but studied her. "I'm not sure."

"Oh." She cleared her throat and tried a different approach. "What do you usually do on Saturday night?"

"Watch TV. Work. Shop for groceries. When Dad was here, we'd get a pizza then go play pool."

She'd love to push back the thick shock of hair on his forehead. "It still seems strange, doesn't it?" she asked softly.

He knew what she meant. "Yes. I expect to see him come through the door. Especially at the store."

Her hand moved across his shoulder. It was meant to be a comforting gesture, but she felt the muscle and tautness underneath. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"A'd sister." He tensed as he said it.

"And she wants nothing to do with a hardware store?"

"Something like that," he answered evasively. A few moments later, he broke the silence that had fallen awkwardly between them. "Did you use the ladder?"

"The paper's almost down. I'll get to the wainscoting tomorrow." Testing his presence here tonight, trying to find out what it meant, she asked kiddingly, "Would you like to drop by tomorrow and lend a hand?"

Instead of joking back, his expression became serious. "I have a commitment tomorrow."

A commitment. That could mean anything from a day fishing with the guys to a date with someone. From the expression on his face, he wasn't going to be casting his line. He didn't explain further and where before she'd been somewhat comfortable dancing with him, she suddenly found herself with two left feet and stumbled over his foot. They bumped into another couple. She pulled away so their bodies weren't touching and he didn't draw her back.

When the song ended, she said, "I need to go to the ladies room and freshen up."

He nodded. "And I'd better be going."

"Grocery shopping?"

"More like another look at the books to see if and how I can afford you."

The awkwardness between them was as palpable as the electricity. But as she'd discovered once before, electricity without honesty meant nothing. She could stick to business as well as he could. "I'll call you mid-week with the ideas I come up with."

"Fine."

She took a step back. She couldn't say she was glad he'd come because she felt confused...and worst of all, vulnerable again. So she didn't say anything. She turned and walked away.