Turning Point (The Kathleen Turner Series) (17 page)

Untangling my hand from Kade’s, I eased out of the bed. Closing the bedroom door behind me, I rummaged in my kitchen cabinets for something I could make him to eat.

“This’ll have to do,” I muttered to myself, holding a box of blueberry muffin mix.

Grabbing the ingredients, a bowl, and muffin pan, I mixed everything together and put them in the oven. I had about fifteen minutes while they cooked, so I got in the shower. It wasn’t until I was pouring the thick conditioner into the palm of my hand that I realized I’d forgotten to put oil in the mix.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

I hurriedly turned off the water and reached for a towel. Only there wasn’t one. I’d given them all to Dr. Sanchez.

If I didn’t hurry to add the oil, the damn muffins would turn out hard as rocks.

Cursing under my breath, I scurried into the kitchen, naked and dripping. I took the muffins out of the oven and, thankfully, they were still sort of liquidy in the middle. The recipe called for a quarter cup of oil. Okay, dividing that evenly among twelve muffins was…

Math wasn’t my strong suit, so I eyeballed it, dumping a little oil in each one and giving a stir with a toothpick. When I was done, I looked them over critically. I had no clue how they were going to turn out, but it was worth a try.

Grabbing the pan with a pot holder, I slid it back onto the oven rack, heaving a sigh. Gourmet cook, I was not.

“I’ve heard of barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, but I think I like this better.”

Startled, I jumped, bumping my fingers against the side of the four-hundred-degree oven. I cried out, jerking back my hand. Spinning around, I saw Kade striding toward me.

For a moment, the absolute embarrassment of the situation rendered me immobile. Then Kade was next to me, grabbing the hand I had cradled against my body.

“What happened?” he asked, examining the livid skin. “Don’t you know the purpose of an oven mitt?” Reaching over, he turned on the cold water, putting my hand in the steady stream. I hissed.

“If you hadn’t scared me, I wouldn’t have burned myself,” I gritted out. Groping behind myself with my other hand, I found the roll of paper towels. Jerking a handful free, I tried to cover myself.

“Seriously?” Kade deadpanned with a quirk of an eyebrow.

My cheeks heated. I was too cheap to buy the nice, thick paper towels, and the no-name brand was soaking up the water on my skin and becoming instantly transparent goo. I cursed my own frugality and stubbornly clutched the soggy mess to my body anyway, trying to use my arm to cover my breasts.

“How does your hand feel?” Kade asked.

The water coursing over my skin had eased the pain and I gave a curt nod. Kade shut the water off.

His body blocked mine where I stood. Tipping my head back, I looked up at him. His eyes burned a path down my body.

“Fuck bullets,” he rasped. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

I swallowed. “You’re supposed to be sleeping,” I said as calmly as my racing pulse would allow. I was all too aware of how close he was, and how very naked I was. “What are you doing up?”

“You’re demanding I get back in your bed?” he asked, all innocence.

“You know what I mean.”

“I woke up, saw you weren’t there, and came looking for you.” His lips twisted. Leaning forward, he whispered in my ear, “Has anyone told you how magnificent you look in wet paper towels? I bet those peacock-blue stilettos would go great with that outfit.”

I abruptly remembered what he’d said about those shoes once before:
And the next time I see you wearing those shoes, they’ll be the only thing you’re wearing.

I felt my breath catch. “I need to get dressed.”

“By all means,” he readily agreed. Kade took a big step back, and I abruptly realized he could see more of me now, with space between us, than he had been able to before.

“Cover your eyes,” I insisted as I fought a losing battle with my bargain-basement quicker-picker-uppers.

“Not a chance in hell.”

Cheeks burning, but with as much dignity as I could muster, I turned literal tail and hurried into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me. I felt his eyes on me the whole way.

I put on clothes that covered me from neck to ankle—a turtleneck and jeans. Running a brush through my hair, I decided to let it dry on its own. I hadn’t forgotten that Kade still needed food with his medication, so in a matter of moments, I was back in the kitchen.

Kade had taken up residence at my kitchen table, making the room seem smaller with him in it. The smirk he gave when he saw what I was wearing told me I hadn’t fooled him, he knew I was donning armor.

The timer beeped and I took the muffins out of the oven. I could tell at once that my attempt to save them had been in vain. The outsides were hard as a rock, while the
middles were still too squishy and undercooked to eat. Dismayed, I just stood looking at them. Tears pricked my eyes.

Damn it, I couldn’t even cook a box of muffins.

When I sniffed, Kade moved to stand next to me. “Hey, what’s the matter?” he asked gently.

His question just made the waterworks start. “These stupid things,” I blubbered. “They only had like three ingredients, and I still screwed it up.”

He laughed lightly, pulling me into his arms and hugging me. “So you can’t cook. I can live with that.”

Kade’s sweetness only made me bawl harder.

“Come on now,” he said nervously, reaching behind me for more of the paper towels I now despised. “It’s really okay. Please stop crying, all right? We’ll just order in. No big deal.”

I swiped the rough cloth across my eyes and nodded. The only thing I could cook was potato soup, which I’d made for Blane, but it wasn’t like we could eat it every night. He’d quickly realized my lack of culinary skills and we’d gotten in the habit of either going out to dinner, ordering take-out, or having his housekeeper, Mona, drop things by.

The thought of Blane made my stomach hurt. Tears welled up again, but I assiduously blinked them back. Now wasn’t the time to start mooning over Blane.

Flipping through my stack of take-out menus, we decided on Chinese, then sat on the couch to watch TV while we waited. Kade wanted to take a shower, and after I scrounged up a beach towel (I certainly didn’t need him waltzing out naked) and admonished him to not get his bandage wet, he disappeared into the bathroom.

“So who shot you?” I asked when he was out of the shower and we were finishing off our plates of kung pao.

“A bad guy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Really? Come on. Tell me. Did you find out who’s after you?”

Kade ignored me for a moment, setting his empty plate on the coffee table before settling back against the couch. I’d managed to rummage up a T-shirt that would fit him, and thank God he’d put it on. Bending his leg, he pulled his bare foot up onto the couch, resting his arm across his denim-clad knee as he looked at me. The casualness of his posture only seemed to accentuate his maleness. Kade oozed raw sexuality.

I took a nervous sip of Pepsi and tried to unobtrusively edge farther onto my side of the couch.

“These people like to make sure there are no loose ends,” he finally said.

“How are you a loose end?”

“Because I got close enough to know that Ryan Sheffield had orders from some very powerful people.”

I frowned. “Who?”

“David Summers.”

My eyes widened in surprise. “Matt Summers’s uncle? The guy in charge of that group, that political group?” The name escaped me, even though I’d heard it on the news a few nights ago.

“IAN,” Kade said. “Improving America Now.”

“Yeah, that one. But why would he have anything to do with Ryan Sheffield?”

“David Summers has a lot of money, and a lot of power,” Kade explained. “Politicians fall all over themselves to
get in his good graces. He’s very antimilitary and, ironically enough, anticapitalism, though that’s how he made his fortune.”

“If you know he was behind Sheffield, why can’t he be arrested?” I asked. “Sheffield nearly killed me.”

“It would do nothing,” Kade replied. “He’d be out in the blink of an eye. The best thing to do—what Blane and I are doing—is find out what his endgame is, if there’s anyone else besides him pulling the strings.”

“Blane and you?”

“Yeah, that’s the part he probably didn’t tell you.”

I just looked at him.

Kade shrugged. “Summers is a ruthless guy. If he’s responsible for even half of what we suspect, he’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants.”

“And what’s that?”

Kade smirked. “When I know, I’ll tell you.” He eyed my frown for a moment. “Don’t get all bent out of shape. I don’t want you drawing attention from Summers either.”

“I met Matt Summers the other day,” I told him, “in the lobby at the firm. Blane got a little freaked out.”

“No shit,” Kade retorted. “Matt is bad news. His uncle’s money has shielded him for years.”

“And he’s using that as leverage to make Blane be that shield now,” I said.

Kade looked straight into my eyes. “Sure.”

His answer made me frown, but as I was thinking about pursuing it, I glanced at the clock.

“Hey, I need to change your bandage before I go.” Jumping up, I hurried into my bedroom to get the supplies Dr. Sanchez had left.

“Going where?” Kade asked when I returned.

“I’m looking into this place where Matt’s victim worked. Derrick’s also working a case where a girl disappeared, and she worked there, too.”

Settling next to him on the couch, I ripped open a new bandage. “By the way,” I said, “Blane took the bullet the doctor got out of you. He was pretty upset that you’d been shot.”

I reached to pull up his shirt, but his hand grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

“Tell me you didn’t call Blane.”

“Of course I did. He’s your brother.” The “duh” was in my tone, but I was smart enough to not say it aloud.

Kade cursed and he scrubbed a hand across his face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Why shouldn’t I have told him?”

He looked me straight in the eyes. “You of all people should know,” he said. “If you look up ‘overprotective’ in the dictionary, there’s a picture of Blane’s face.”

Okay, he had a point there.

“Well, it doesn’t matter now, because it’s done. Now let me go, I need to do your bandage.”

Kade released my hand and I gave him a gentle shove so he was reclined enough for me to get to the wound. Unfortunately, that meant I was also now positioned squarely between his legs.

I cleared my throat, reconsidering. “You know, it might be easier if you did it.” It wasn’t like the wound was on his back.

“You ruined the muffins,” he reminded me. “The least you can do is put a bandage on me.” His aggrieved tone was a stark contrast to the mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Fine,” I huffed. “Be good.” I poked him in the chest with my fingernail, emphasizing my words.

“Cross my heart.”

I frowned at his flippancy, not trusting him, but the clock was ticking and I had no time to argue. Leaning over him, I tried to ignore the closeness of our bodies as I took off the bloody bandage, cleaned the wound, and pressed a new bandage in place. I’d been balanced precariously so I wouldn’t touch him any more than necessary, and I gave a sigh of relief once I was finished.

“There,” I said with satisfaction. “That should—”

My words were abruptly cut off when Kade shifted, upsetting my balance. I landed on top of him, and his leg wrapped over mine, trapping me. Our faces were inches apart as I stared, wide-eyed, into the sapphire depths of his eyes.

“You said you’d be good,” I reminded him, my words more breathless than I liked.

“I lie.”

The silence was thick between us, and I barely breathed.

Kade reached out, his fingers running slowly through my loose hair. Dry now, it was wavy and soft, and he brought a long lock to his nose and inhaled deeply. His gaze was still fixed on mine, and I couldn’t look away.

“You make me want things,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Impossible things.”

His gaze dropped to my mouth, which was suddenly dry as dust. My tongue darted out nervously to wet my lips, and I felt the surge of his response against my abdomen. Time seemed to stand still, my senses cataloguing the smell of his
skin, the rise and fall of his chest underneath my palms, the patter of the rain still falling outside.

The thought I’d been avoiding since Kade had shown up last night was suddenly front and center in my mind. He could’ve died. I didn’t know who had shot him, or if Kade had killed that person. What if the bullet had been farther to the left? What if the next time it was? Kade could be taken from me in an instant, and I might not even know.

Just like Blane, if he returned to the battlefield.

I rested my head against Kade’s chest. I could hear the strong sound of his heart beating. Squeezing my eyes shut, I sent up a prayer of thanks, as well as a plea for strength. Kade was temptation. Blane would never forgive me, or Kade, if anything happened between us.

Kade would find his happily ever after. He had to. It just couldn’t be with me.

“I have to go,” I said, my voice strained.

Squirming to get out of his grip caused a muffled groan from Kade, his hips pressing up against me. I wasn’t proud of the thoughts that flashed through my head at the feel of his arousal—wanton images of what I could do to him if I slid just a little lower…

I scrambled frantically now and Kade released me. Stumbling to my feet, I couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t look at him sprawled on my couch with desire in his eyes and a raging hard-on.

“I’ll be back later,” I babbled, grabbing my purse and shoving my feet into the first pair of shoes I found. “The place is called Xtreme and I start tonight. Don’t forget to take your medicine, and would you mind feeding Tigger?”

I didn’t wait for an answer, but hurried out the door and into my SUV, not breathing properly until I was driving down the road.

I cursed myself six ways from Sunday for the things I’d contemplated—all involving myself and Kade in various states of undress—no matter how briefly I’d thought them. I couldn’t be that girl, wouldn’t be that girl who falls in love with two brothers. I loved Blane and cared about Kade. A lot. That was all. He was like… like a brother to me, too. Yes, that was it. That’s why my feelings were so strong for him.