Long Slow Burn (8 page)

“And you still do.”

“I stopped for a while. But I started up again last year at Danceworks with a Saturday morning class. I really missed it.”

She finished with the broccoli. Nathan shook up the last batch of meat slices and dumped them onto a plate with the first half.

“Your turn, now.”

“For what?” He came up behind her, opening the cabinets above her head. His chest pressed against her upper back. His arms circled her, one resting on each door.

Kim tensed, holding the chef's knife suspended over the cutting board, her body reacting to the contact with his. She wanted to lean into him, wanted his arms to slide down from the cabinets and wrap around her.

She was completely insane. The parallel with Nathan, her father and Tony wasn't too hard to figure out. Womanizing father, womanizing boyfriend, lust now for womanizing roommate? No. Not returning to that pattern.

She put the knife down, wiggled around and got right into his face. “What are you doing?”

He didn't blink, looked down at her calmly, close enough that she could kiss him by rising on tiptoes. “Getting crackers. What are you doing?”

Her face flamed. He didn't feel anything being this close? Didn't realize what he was doing to her? “You're crowding me.”

He didn't move. “Yeah?”

She poked him in the chest and pointed back to where he'd stood before. “I'll get the crackers. You go over there.”

“You smell good.”

“Over. There.”

“You look even better.”

“Go.
Now.
”

“Yes, ma'am.” He ambled back to the cornstarch-powdered meat. “I finished this. Do you want me to chop garlic now? Measure seasonings?”

She took a moment to reach for the crackers, wanting to sock him. She was a jittery mess of adrenaline and hormones, and he felt nothing?

Think Troy. Think Dale. Think dating, not lust. Think relationship, think communication, think all the things that were much more important than desire. Besides, she'd known Nathan since senior year, lived with him for three and a half weeks, and only in the past couple of days had she started seeing him differently. It had to do with her awakening to members of the opposite sex. She wanted love, not Nathan.

“You measure out the soy sauce and sesame oil, I'll chop the garlic, then we're ready to cook.”

Bravo, Kim.
She was in control here. She had the power. She'd learned from her father, from Tony, from her brother, how men like to play with women to make themselves feel attractive. This had nothing to do with her. To Nathan she was a female body. But to Dale she was Kim Charlotte Horton, someone worth getting to know.

“Now tell me your most special childhood memory.”

“Kim.” Nathan looked supremely pained. “Because sharing special memories is not in
The Man's Guide to Being Manly
I'll have to swear you to secrecy.”

“You can trust me.”

“I know.” He smiled, an open, dazzling smile that would have made her toes curl had she been in that mode still. But of course, she wasn't; she was cured of any illusions about her new and very unfortunate awareness of Nathan.

“Let me guess your secret.” She rid her fingers of the garlic smell by rubbing them on a stainless spoon under running water. “I'm thinking you had a Barbie at age twelve.”

“Hey.” He capped the soy sauce, looking convincingly bewildered. “Who told you?”

“I have my sources.” She dried her hands. “Tell me more.”

“Let's see. Special childhood memory…probably when
I finally got my first dog at age thirteen, and realized I had someone to talk to who really understood me.”

He was grinning as if it was a joke, but Kim sensed something deeper lurked underneath. “You were lonely.”

“Nah.” Nathan picked up a sponge and wiped down the counter. “I had four brothers and plenty of friends.”

He was lonely. Lonely surrounded by people, a worse kind of lonely than being alone. She'd been there, too, the only introvert in a boisterous, extroverted family. Sometimes she felt as if she must have been found on the doorstep.

But why would Nathan be lonely? She'd met his brothers over the years, and they seemed the same kind of high-fiving chest-bumper he was. Apparently Nathan hadn't blazed his own trail the way she had. Not that she'd had much choice; she simply couldn't function at the high energy level of the rest of her family.

She reached under the counter, brought out their largest skillet and started it heating on the burner next to the rice. “What was your dog's name?”

“Lloyd. After Frank Lloyd Wright.”

“Is he still around?”

“Nope.” He drained his beer, opened the refrigerator for another. “A car got him a few years after I did.”

“Oh, Nathan.” She stared helplessly, holding the bottle of canola oil poised over the heated pan. “I'm sorry. You never got another one?”

“I was off to college soon after I lost him, and my last apartment didn't allow them.” He popped off the top of his second beer and half raised it to his lips. “Why, you want a puppy here?”

“Um. No.” She poured in the oil, added the beef and stirred. He stood close, watching. She didn't let him get to her this time, but browned the beef, then the broccoli, mixed them with the orange rind, scallions and seasonings, let the dish simmer, and pronounced it done.

They ate at the kitchen table, talking comfortably as they'd done every night since Nathan moved in. Kim made
herself focus on Dale, anticipating the email that would be waiting dependably on her laptop.

They did the dishes side by side, Kim rinsing, Nathan loading the dishwasher, then Nathan washing pans and knives, Kim drying. She did the final cleanup while Nathan got ready for work.

“I had fun tonight.” He came back into the kitchen, looking sharp in his all-black bartending outfit.

“Me, too.” She grinned at him fondly.

“I think you like me.”

“Of course I like you.” She dried her hands, hung the towel back in place. “I wouldn't have let you live with me if I didn't like you.”

“No-o-o, I think you
li-ike,
like me.” He adopted a nerdy, nasal tone, waggled his eyebrows, then shot out his hands and hooked his thumbs through her belt loops. “Admit it, you have a crush on me-e-e.”

“Ew!”

“C'mon, bay-bee.” He gave a ghastly bucktoothed grin. “Admit it, I'm irre-
sis
-tible.”

“Get over yourself, Urquel.” She could barely speak through her giggles.

Nathan twisted to look at the stove clock, still holding her at the waist, then turned back, all goofiness gone.

“I have to go.” He pulled her close. “Don't wait up for me, sweetheart.”

“Nathan…” She rolled her eyes, put her hands to his chest, then pulled them away abruptly, hating the way she responded to the hard muscle there and the fake tenderness in his voice. “You are completely—”

He gathered her to him, pressed his warm lips to her forehead, lingered a beat longer than was brotherly, then pulled back, hands splayed at her waist. “See you tomorrow, Kim. Sleep well.”

She nodded, unable to produce any sound.

He released her and left the kitchen. The front door
opened. Closed. The apartment felt suddenly tomblike, missing his vitality.

Kim stood for a full minute, forlorn and off balance, her forehead still registering the feel of his lips.

After the hell she went through with Tony, she'd seen a therapist who'd said everyone had a core belief about him or herself formed in childhood, and that Kim's was that she was not good enough. Unless she changed that belief, she'd keep seeking out experiences that reinforced it.

In other words, she felt like dirt, so she went after people who made her feel that way. Tony or Nathan, who treated women casually, like playthings, were exactly the types to reinforce that message about herself. Now he lusts, now he's brotherly, now he couldn't care either way. The biggest mistake she could make would be to take any of it seriously.

There. She drew in a breath, let it out. Decoding confusing feelings was half the battle. Understanding her reactions gave her power over them.

She went into her room, turned on her laptop, needing the latest email from Dale to stabilize her. Unlike Nathan, he made her feel special, precious, anything but worthless. If she was ever going to become the strong, confident woman she wanted to be, inside as well as out, she needed to start believing that in earnest.

Her email program came up. There. A note from Dale, reassuring her of his steady, sincere, appropriate interest, as always. She scanned his words, her heart warming at his thoughtfulness and affection. He'd written from the airport in Montego Bay just before he took off, saying he'd email again when he landed in Milwaukee. He couldn't wait to see her, the hours until Monday seemed so long, but he'd be busy the next day getting settled in, and wanted to be fresh and at his best. She'd hear from him, though; she could count on that.

Yes. She could. This was the kind of man she needed.
She'd focus on that, and on the certainty that as soon as she met Dale, all the excitement over her sexy, unreliable roommate would disappear.

“N
ATHAN?
I
T'S
M
ARIE.”

“Marie, hi.” Nathan adjusted his cell phone next to his ear and pulled over to park on Humboldt Avenue in Milwaukee. The guys were meeting at the Kern Park courts for Sunday basketball. “What's going on?”

“Got a minute?”

“Sure.” He turned off the car, unbuckled his seat belt and stretched his legs. “Kim's party?”

“Uh-huh. I talked to Candy yesterday and Darcy this morning and we're all in agreement.”

“About?”

“Her birthday is a Saturday this year so we'll have it right on the day, April fifteenth, at Candy's house in Shorewood.”

Nathan tried to imagine Kim's reaction. Would she enjoy being the center of that much attention? He guessed her friends knew her better than he did, though he hoped to change that. “What do you need from me? Besides stories. I've already started getting those.”

“Anything good?”

“She had some incredible dollhouse when she was a girl, and she loves ballet.” He ran his finger over the steering wheel, thinking the words didn't come close to doing her stories justice, or the emotions that went along with them.

“Ballet I knew about, will have to research the dollhouse.”

“That's long gone.”

“Oh, too bad. Get whatever else you can. Pictures of it, maybe? We want to put up a wall of Kim, showing her evolution from a sweet little girl on toe shoes to the hot mama she is today. Have you seen her new look?”

“Last night.” He still hadn't recovered.

“Doesn't she look great?”

“She does.” He kept his voice casual, not anxious to have Marie figure out that Kim's new look had made his job of keeping his hands to himself, at least awhile longer, pretty much impossible.

“I think so, too. I'm thrilled for her. Back to the party. We'd like to ask you for three things.”

“Shoot.” He didn't mean to sound wary, but girl-parties could get rough on a guy.

“One, see if she has any photo albums around, and get a variety of pictures. I called her mother and she doesn't think any are stored with her.”

“Pictures. Okay.” A sharp thud on his window made him jump. Steve, trying to get his attention. Nathan pointed to the phone and shook his head.

“Second, we need something she loves, cherishes, can't live without, besides her computer. Something with great personality. A stuffed animal, some keepsake, a doll, a china figurine, something like that.”

Nathan rolled his eyes. He wasn't wrong to dread the girlie thing. “I'll see what I can do.”

Steve rapped again.
“Dude.”

Nathan scowled at him. Steve was a good basketball player, but he could be a real asshole. Nathan didn't understand why Kent hung around with him so much. “Got that. And the third thing?”

“You're not going to like this.”

“Uh-oh.”

“We need her underwear size. Bra and panties.”

Nathan froze in the car. His mind immediately went places it shouldn't. Kim, with that fantastic new haircut, blue eyes bold in her face, wearing nothing but tiny bits of white lace. “Un-derwear?”

“We're buying her naughty stuff.”

He let his head fall against the back of his seat, suppressing a groan. “Like…what kind?”

The second the words were out of his mouth, he wished them back in.
What kind?
Could he be any more obvious that he was dying to picture her wearing them?

“We're not sure yet. Any ideas, Nathan?” She was teasing him, he could hear the laughter in her voice.

“No.”
He lifted his head from the headrest and dropped it forward onto his fist. For God's sake. He should have made a joke and suggested something his great-grandmother would have worn, like bloomers. Or a girdle.

Except Kim would look sexy even in that.

“Yo, Nathan.”
Steve again. Making the sign to roll down his window. Nathan was tempted to send back a sign that meant something entirely different, but shook his head instead.

“Okay, Marie. I'll get right on all that. If you need anything else, let me know.”

“We will. Thanks so much, Nathan.”

He turned off the phone. Well. It looked as if he was going to have to go through Kim's underwear drawer. If that didn't turn him on wildly…

He responded to the latest impatient knock from Steve by getting out of the car. “Chill, dude. I was on the phone.”

“We're on court three.”

“And that couldn't wait five minutes because…”

Steve lifted his hammy fist and gave Nathan the exact sign Nathan had been tempted to use earlier. “Come on. There'll be four of us today. This guy Troy is coming. Friend of Kent's.”

Troy.
The “gorgeous” guy, the one who went out with
Kim, the one who wanted to see her again? The one who'd see her made over and totally hot?

Not caring if Steve was following or not, Nathan slammed his door and strode toward the basketball courts. He needed more time. He'd flustered Kim a little by flirting the night before, but he couldn't tell if she'd been disconcerted because he affected her or because she thought he'd lost his mind, and felt sorry for him.

Court three came into view, and on it a tall man shooting baskets, making most of them. Dark curly hair, solid build, a graceful athlete. He saw Steve and Nathan coming onto the court, caught the ball and smiled. White teeth. Looked like a movie star.

Crap.

“Hey, I'm Troy.” He strode toward them with an easy gait, held out his hand and shook.

Seemed nice, too. Double crap.

“I'm Nathan.”

“Steve.” Steve stuck out his hand, peering up suspiciously from his five-foot-seven-inch stocky frame. Steve had issues with tall men. And pretty much everything else.

“Hey, Troy.” Kent, hurrying onto the court behind them, tall, slender and blond like his sister, his Kim-blue eyes hidden behind dark glasses. “Good to see you, man. You met these two useless males already?”

“I did.” The two shook hands. Troy wheeled around and shot the ball; Kent covered him. Nathan and Steve joined in, pairing off in teams: Nathan and Troy, Kent and Steve. An hour later, they were done, Nathan and Troy having dominated the game, Kent and Steve satisfying themselves by insulting their opponents with unrestrained obscenity.

The smell of testosterone hung thick in the air.

“Brews at Wolski's?” Steve pointed to each man in turn.

There was general agreement. They walked to their cars, drove down Humboldt and parked on Pulaski Street by Wolski's Tavern, a Milwaukee neighborhood institution famous
for its I Closed Wolski's bumper stickers. The classic interior held dart boards, games and good, cold beer.

The guys ordered plenty and stood clustered by the bar.

“Whoa, check that out.” Steve lifted his square chin toward the corner behind Nathan, who didn't need to see to know blond hair and large breasts were involved.

Kent turned around for a lingering leer. “Oh, yeah. I could seriously enjoy some of that.”

“I saw her first, dude.”

Nathan glanced behind him. Pretty girl. Aware of their attention by now, pretending she wasn't, tossing back her hair, smiling widely, leaning forward to talk to her friend. Then a quick sidelong shift of her eyes, making sure they were staring.

“She totally wants it.” Steve was practically slobbering. “Nathan? I'm going in. You up for the friend?”

He shook his head. “Not interested.”

“What is with you?” Steve cuffed the back of Nathan's neck. “You are turning into a wuss.”

Nathan shrugged. Troy was watching him curiously.

“Seriously,” Kent said. “You haven't been on the hunt in a while.”

“Ever since you moved in with Kim.” Steve made a lewd gesture. “You getting some there?”

“Hey.”
Kent slitted his eyes, puffed up his slender chest. “You're talking about my sister.”

Troy's eyebrows lifted at Nathan. “You live with Kim?”

“I lost my lease. She had room. Favor to Kent.” He drank more beer than he wanted, feeling dangerously exposed.

“Convenient.” Troy nodded, not taking his eyes off Nathan. “Nice woman.”

“Yup.” Nathan took another gulp, wanting to sock Troy in the nose except he seemed to be a good guy.

“What is wrong? She have you all domesticated?” Steve sneered. “Sewing little curtains for the place?”

“Nah.” Troy shook his head. “She's not like that.”

Troy being protective: bad sign.

“Shut up, Steve.” Kent was disgusted. “Troy's right, Kim isn't like that.”

“What you need, Nate, is some action.” As usual, Steve was completely unfazed by their disapproval. He gestured toward the blonde. “Those women over there are calling your name.”

“I don't think so.” Nathan drained the rest of his drink.

Even Kent was staring at him now. “What is up, Nate?”

Nathan shrugged. “Just not into it.”

“Whoa, emergency situation.” Steve signaled the bartender. “Another round here. Though maybe we should do shots.”

“Not me,” Troy said.

“Okay, I know the problem.” Kent held up his hands, commanding attention, upping the drama. “I've seen the symptoms before.”

“VD?” Steve offered.

Kent turned to Nathan. “What's her name?”

Nathan saw that one coming. What would Kent do if he told him? He blurted out the first name that came into his head. “Angelina.”

“What, like Jolie?”

“Yeah.” Nathan accepted his new beer. “Like that.”

“What's the problem?” Troy was watching him again, as if he knew Nathan was lying. “She's not into you?”

“I don't know.” He already regretted saying anything. “I don't really want to talk—”

“Make your move already, boy-man.” Steve drained half his second beer. “Her reaction will tell you what you need to know.”

“Does she know you're into her?” Troy asked.

Nathan twisted his face, wishing he'd never brought this up. “Not…really.”

“Oh, no, no, no.” Steve shook his pale head repeatedly. “She can't know. Not ever. Once you admit to a woman you want more than sex, you might as well hand her your balls for her collection.”

“I get that.” Troy chuckled drily. “My old girlfriend never gave mine back. I had to grow a new pair.”

“I had one like that back in New York.” Kent whistled silently. “Gruesome. I was almost glad I got laid off so I could get the hell away.”

Nathan swallowed uncomfortably. He didn't like the turn of this conversation. All his rosy dreams about Kim were becoming tainted by these idiots' view of reality.

“What are you guys, men or fairies? Never admit that stuff.” Steve scowled at each of them. “Insert tab A into slot B, repeat as needed, but keep her guessing at all times.”

Nathan thought about the way Kim had been the night before, unsure, vulnerable. Yeah, he'd kept her guessing, but sooner or later she, or any normal woman, would get sick of those games. Then there was the fact that Steve was perpetually single, which didn't make him a great source of dating advice. “Seems like a pretty shitty thing to do to someone you care about.”

“
Care
about?” Steve shook his head. “You are whipped, boy. Just put on your apron, bend over and take it from her. That's all you're good for.”

Uneasy laughter followed.

Nathan dug out ten dollars from his wallet, slapped it into Kent's palm. “This is for my beer. I'm outta here. Thanks for the game.”

Steve gave a wide-eyed, girlie pout. “Running home to Kimmy?”

“Nah. It just stinks in here.”

He left, ignoring whatever lame comeback Steve shouted after him. Let them hang on to macho misery. Even a month ago he'd have been right there with them, commiserating, laughing at Steve, but with him, too. He'd have gone willingly to chat up the blonde's friend. But that constant shallow Hi-I'm-Nathan BS conversation didn't seem real anymore. It seemed pathetic. As did Steve.

Nathan was going to step up his plan to show Kim he felt very differently about her than she did about him, see
if he could build on the confusion he'd seen in her eyes last night, see if he could introduce some of the desire he felt for her into her reactions to him, make her aware of him at least physically—then maybe more.

Kim would be going out on her first date with that Dale guy the next night. If Nathan had anything to say about it, she'd be leaving their apartment thinking only of him.

 

C
OUNTDOWN TO LEAVING FOR DATE
with Dale: half an hour. Kim wasn't dressed. Well, she'd been dressed, in what she thought was the perfect outfit, five or six times. This one too casual. That one too dressy. This one too sexual. That one not sexual enough.

She hated this. Life had been so peaceful and wonderful when she wasn't hunting for a man. Now look at her. She'd gone completely insane with stress and nerves, her self-esteem was shaky—in short, she was losing it.

Why had she let Marie talk her into joining Milwaukeedates.com? Why had she let Marie talk her into going out with Dale? Why had she let Marie and Candy talk her into getting a makeover?

She stared at herself in the mirror, at the long, slender rose skirt paired with the sweater top. This was the third time she'd tried on the outfit Candy and Marie bought for her, and she loved it. She looked great in it. But it might look as if she was trying too hard to impress him.

What if they had no chemistry? What if he was horribly disappointed? What if she was?

Kim rolled her eyes at her reflection, forcing the bursts of worry out of her mind.

Marie and Candy hadn't convinced her to do a damn thing she hadn't wanted to. If she was a frantic mess right now it was her own fault. No doubt the second she sat opposite Dale and smiled into his eyes, everything would fall into place. Even if he didn't turn out to be the love of her life, at least they'd have a nice evening. Look at all they had to talk about: Jamaica, his childhood, her childhood, their tastes,
favorites, everything. Two entire lives ready to be mutually discovered. It was a beautiful thing.