Long Slow Burn (6 page)

Nathan didn't talk like this. He was always making fun
of himself, his sexual prowess, his TV habits, his love of a good beer or two or three. He must be teasing. Setting her up again. It just didn't sound like it.

“No, I'm sure there are one or two waking hours during which you think about something else.” She held up a hand to count off fingers. “Like when you're thinking about food. Or sleep.”

He started toward her. She stepped back, stifling a giggle. This was more like it. She teased, he pretended to get angry, it was all part of their game. Like family. Like siblings. “
Or
I'm sure sometimes you think about how to get away from the woman you just did, in case she actually expects conversation—
Oh!
”

He'd lunged, grabbed her wrists and pinned them up against the wall over her head. His face loomed closer. For one completely absurd second she thought he was going to kiss her, and she caught her breath, heart beating wildly. This wasn't their game. He was changing the rules.

“Is that really what you think of me?”

She laughed, waited for him to join in, to let on that this was a ho-ho-funny joke on big sister Kim.

Nothing. She tried to pull her hands down, but let them be when he tightened his grip.

“Nathan, what are you doing?”

The apartment seemed eerily silent around them. No traffic noises outside, no pedestrian voices. She swore she could hear the sound of her blood rushing through her veins.

“It's not all about parties and women for me.”

“Okay. I mean, I know. I mean…I'm sure it's not.” Her voice was breathless. She didn't know whether to tease him or humor him. She wanted him to let go, but she couldn't seem to make herself tell him to release her.

Because…?

Because she knew he would.

Gah, she didn't even want to admit it. Nathan, big goofy jovial Nathan, had turned into this…
caveman,
and she was
getting off on it. If this turned out to be a
gotcha
game, it wasn't funny. Not even close.

“I think about lots of things.” His voice was low and even. He could probably hear her irregular breathing. This was crazy.
This was Nathan.
Except it wasn't.

“Yeah?” She was whispering. Couldn't even summon a normal tone.
Damn it, Nathan, what are you doing?
“What other things?”

He narrowed his eyes, glanced down at her lips. Kim shrank back against the wall, her heart still pounding. What had gotten into him tonight? What had gotten into
her?
“I'm waiting.”

Nathan took in a long, nearly silent breath. “Sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night and it's quiet, or sometimes during a daydream, I think about what it would be like to—” He stopped as if he were about to choke on his words. “I think about…”

Kim held her breath.

His body suddenly relaxed. “You know, how long it's been since I last had sex.”

She burst out laughing, sounding like a manic hyena. The release of tension was part relief, part disappointment. Yes,
gotcha.
He'd done it again. She should have seen the punch line coming. But this time, truly, she'd thought he was going to tell her something real, something important. And she'd surprised herself by dying to know what it was.

“I'm going to my room, you complete nutcase. Good night.” She escaped through her door, wedged it shut, and then collapsed against it with a long breath.

Nathan?

No. No-no-no. A bizarre aberration, a bizarre and
temporary
aberration. Going out with Troy and corresponding with Dale must have made Kim into a hyped-up nymphomaniac, or convinced her all men would find her irresistible. Thank God Nathan brought her down to earth by teasing her.

She crossed her room swiftly, flung open her laptop and opened her email program. At the top of the list, a reply
from Dale, giving her that great, giddy rush. A quick check of the time on his note showed he'd answered only half an hour after she'd sent hers early that afternoon. Did he take his laptop to the beach? She couldn't imagine. Too much sand. Maybe poolside? She wished she was there with him. Jamaica. How exotic and romantic.

Kim gave a big sigh and dropped her chin onto her hand, gazing dreamily at the words on the screen. Her world had righted itself. Dale sounded so great. She couldn't wait to meet him. She just wished he didn't keep saying how amazing she sounded. Not that she was chopped liver, even Troy had said he wanted to see her again, but…she really didn't want to disappoint Dale.

She got up from the computer and went over to her mirror,
peered at her face, her hair a plain blunt cut past her shoulders, makeup very basic: mascara and lip gloss. She'd worn plain black pants and a blue sweater tonight, nice clothes, but maybe not those a “fascinating, very lovely” woman would wear. Would she make a bad first impression? Would he expect something more from the way she sounded online, where she could choose her words so carefully? Where it was easy to be bold?

She turned to the side, held her hair up with both hands, trying to see how she'd look with it back. To one side? Parted differently?

Dropping her arms, she scowled at herself. Who was she kidding? She couldn't let even this tiny amount of dating success go to her head. She was who she was, and men had better appreciate her that way, or not at all. Because she wasn't changing for anyone.

Except maybe herself.

 

“S
ORRY
I
'M LATE.
I was picking out flowers for the reception.” Candy landed breathlessly into the seat opposite Kim, next to Marie. They'd gathered at Jane's Sandwich Shop in a Fox Point strip mall for lunch before trying out the salon next door, La Bellezza, which Candy was considering using on her wedding day. “Kim, what did you think of Troy?”

Kim exchanged glances with an amused Marie. “Hi, Candy. Nice to see you. How are you doing?”

“Sorry, sorry.” She shoved her purse and shopping bag under the table. “Hi, Kim. Hi, Marie. It's good to see both of you, I'm so glad we planned this afternoon, you're both looking great. Kim, how was your date with Troy?”

Kim laughed. “He's a great guy. I enjoyed his company.”

“And? And?” She pounded the table. “Details, woman. Are you going to see him again?”

Kim felt herself blushing. “He
said
he wanted to, but—”

“Awesome!” Candy gave a thumbs-up. “This calls for a drink. You both with me?”

“Sure, why not.” Marie grinned, casual but still totally put-together in loosely clinging pants and a tunic top. “I'm not doing any work on a Saturday afternoon. Kim?”

“I always have work I
could
do, but…” She shrugged. She'd done some that morning after her ballet class, starting a redesign on a site for a local bestselling author who wanted her image changed about every six months. Fine by Kim; she got paid. Her other jobs she could hold off for a half day with no problem. The Carter bid was still the same thorn in her same side. “Count me in.”

On cue a plump blond waitress came by. “Hi, ladies, can I get you something to drink?”

“Absolutely.” Candy grabbed the wine menu and handed it to Marie. “Choose a bottle of something for us, Marie.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Thanks.” Candy shook back her chestnut hair and clipped it into a ponytail. “I have a feeling we're all going to love this salon. Justin's mother has a friend who'd heard about it clear over in California. I guess she has family here who say it's absolute pamper heaven.”

“Works for me.” Marie pointed at the drink menu for the waitress. “We'll have a bottle of the Washington State Chardonnay, please.”

“Pamper heaven sounds great.” Kim forced enthusiasm into her voice. She'd agreed to come today, but the whole chic salon thing was better suited to women such as Marie and Candy. Kim had been to a fancy salon once before, when her friend Becky got married, and had found the women snooty, the skin and body treatments of dubious benefit, and the products wildly overpriced. She could use a haircut, that would be nice, but for a basic trim she hardly needed La Bellezza. Or its prices.

Instead she'd look at it as a great excuse to spend girls'-day-out time. That was worth plenty. She'd do whatever was cheapest and try not to panic over the cost.

“Kim, have you heard from Dale?”

“Yes.” She kept her eyes on her menu and miraculously
managed not to blush yet again. “We've been corresponding pretty regularly. I'll finally meet him on Monday.”

“How does he sound?” Candy asked.

“Pretty fabulous. He's in Jamaica right now. I guess he travels a lot. He's been all over the world. The Far East, Australia, the Middle East, Europe, everywhere.” She closed her menu, still not having decided, and smiled wanly while her friends made appropriate ooh and aah noises. “We've been having great chats.”

“But?” Marie, always the perceptive one.

“I'm…not sure I'm being myself, exactly. I mean I'm flirting with him, and it's really fun, but online it's easy and safe, and not real. I can't be that person. I'm afraid when we meet he's going to be disappointed.”

“Troy wasn't disappointed,” Candy said.

“He had no expectations. I probably made my life sound more exciting to Dale than it is, and probably made myself sound more sophisticated. I'm probably worrying over nothing. He does seem sweet.”

“I don't see the problem.” Candy winked at Marie. “But I do know the solution.”

Marie was grinning. “Uh-huh.”

Kim glanced warily between them. “What's going on?”

“Candy and I have an early birthday present for you. And Darcy, but she couldn't get away from the restaurant today.”

The waitress arrived with their wine and Kim had to wait while the bottle was opened and a half inch was poured for Marie to try.

“It's the perfect solution. You are worried about how you'll come across and we're going to a beauty salon in an hour.” Candy gestured toward her, top to bottom. “We're giving you a makeover.”

“
Me?
I don't think—”

“Well, we do.” Marie nodded her approval of the wine; the waitress went around the table pouring. “It's perfect. A
new haircut, makeup and you'll feel like the woman you think you're only pretending to be.”

“And since we'll all be tipsy and don't have anything else going on, we're taking you shopping afterward for a first-date blow-him-away outfit.” She lifted her glass. “Casually sophisticated. Sexy without being obvious.”

“What do you think, Kim?” Marie asked in her gentle therapist voice. “Of course, we won't force you.”

“Oh, yes, we will.” Candy giggled when Marie glared. “Okay, we'll
encourage you strongly,
how's that.”

“I don't think I'd be comfortable—” Kim broke off. Something deep inside her was shimmering with excitement. Too often she said no to anything that took her out of her comfort zone, and her comfort zone had always been pretty damn small. Maybe she needed to start saying yes more often. Maybe she already had. Yes to trying for the Carter job. Yes to dating.

Yes to a makeover at one of the city's best salons?

“It's not going to be that drastic, Kim.” Marie tossed her menu on the table. “Not like you'll shave half your head and get a nose ring.”

“Or spend future dates talking human sacrifices.” Candy giggled behind her hand. “And showing off the tattoos on your—”

“You'll still be you,” Marie said. “You, with a little extra pizzazz.”

“I don't know.” Kim wrinkled her nose, took another sip of wine, excitement skipping through her. She wanted to say yes, but she couldn't make herself do it yet. “I hadn't planned on this. I'm not really the spontaneous type.”

“Try being that way just this afternoon.”

“We won't pressure you into anything you don't want to do, Kim.” Marie gave Candy a warning look. “We'll have lunch, and you think about it. You don't have to decide until you're sitting in the salon chair. You have time.”

“Okay.” The shimmers wouldn't leave her alone. She imagined herself in some low-cut slit-up-to-there black dress,
breasts pushed front and center, sultry makeup transforming her into the kind of sophisticate she'd always admired. Parading in front of Troy, watching his jaw drop. Parading in front of Dale. Ditto with his jaw. While she was at it, parading in front of Tony, the jerk jock who'd messed with her head in college. Hey, Tony, how geeky did she look now? Parading into the apartment in front of…Nathan.

Kim reached for her wine again, took a shaky sip. She did not need to be worrying about what
he
thought. He'd always been another little brother to her, and Kim was and always had been the big sister he never had.

The three women gabbed on through lunch, the bottle of wine and coffee, then walked next door to the salon, giggling over everything and nothing. Candy opened the front door and gestured Kim through, but not before Kim saw her exchanging crossed-fingers with Marie. The two were undoubtedly trying to figure out how to get her to agree to try a new look.