Right from the Start (23 page)

Will demonstrated by aiming the heat stripper at the windowsill
then peeling away the warm paint with a putty knife. “See how it just lifts up?
You want to heat the paint until right before it starts to bubble and get
sticky.”

“What happens if it bubbles?”

“It’ll stick to the putty knife. Just wait until it cools and
it’ll peel off. Do not touch it when it’s hot.”

“Got it,” she said to reassure him. “So why aren’t you wearing
gloves and a mask?”

A dimple flashed. “I’m familiar with the equipment.”

Kenzie could have pointed out that familiarity with the
equipment might save his hands from burns but it wouldn’t do a thing to protect
his lungs from the paint fumes. She didn’t. The man knew his business, and she
was far too distracted by the sight of him in profile. Shadow cast smudges
around his eyes. Or maybe he was simply tired. And his hair needed to be trimmed
because it was starting to curl around his ear. No doubt if Will left off a trim
for another few weeks, his hair would be as curly and touchable as Sam’s.

“Now you try.” He motioned her to come nearer.

She scooted impossibly closer, willed herself not to stop
breathing when he looked at her, his clear gaze taking in everything at
once.

Did he notice the way her breath hitched in her throat?

“Lay this putty knife where you want to work.” He positioned
her hand on the sill then offered her the heat stripper. “Point that away from
you and press the power trigger. Get the feel first because it’s touch
sensitive. When you stop pressing that button, the heat will stop, too.”

Kenzie aimed the stripper away from them, surprised by the
force of the motor. Then, with a gentle but firm touch, he repositioned her
hands and told her to give it a try.

Her first few attempts resembled nothing of the fluid motions
that had yielded him long strips of paint. Not only did she work up the paint in
chunks but also managed to gouge the wooden sill with the edges of putty
knife.

“Tell me I’m going to be able to sand away all this damage,
please.”

He smiled. “You’ll get the hang of it. Stay on the flat surface
until you do. The trim is going to be trickier.”

“Oh, wonderful.”

Will was a good teacher though, redirecting her patiently,
reminding her to keep the edge of the putty knife flat with a gentle touch.

She wondered whether giving patient and clear instruction came
naturally to him or resulted from parenting Sam. His ability was unexpected. No
wonder friends sent their nephews to train with this man.

She finally pulled the mask down below her chin and said, “I
see why you ripped out all the sills and trim on Angel House’s side. I didn’t
have a clue how much work it would be.”

He sat back on his haunches, gave her a little space to breathe
and eyed her skeptically. “Are you saying you want me to rip out all this
woodwork now?”

“No, no. I’m up for the challenge.” She laughed. “I’m actually
glad to learn how to do this. I’ve always wanted to renovate an old house.”

Will pulled a face. “You’re joking?”

Kenzie wasn’t sure why he’d find her admission so surprising.
“I bought a plantation-style cottage with a gallery on the outskirts of town. It
needed a ton of work, but it’s coming along. I love it.”

“You do the work yourself?”

“I wish,” she admitted. “I did the landscaping, but not all the
work inside. I tackled only the jobs that didn’t have a huge learning curve or I
wasn’t afraid would cost me more money to fix if I goofed up the job. YouTube
really comes in handy.”

He smiled at that. “So what have you done?”

“I textured all the ceilings and hung the wallpaper in the
bathroom.” She didn’t mention the teensy problem with repeat on the floral
wallpaper.

“Then you’ll be a whiz at windowsills. No problem.”

She liked that he offered words of encouragement. Nathanial had
called her insane to purchase the place with the amount of work that had needed
to be done. He’d purchased a brand-new home from a developer in a subdivision so
he could choose all the finishes that went in it before the place was
constructed.

Kenzie squelched that comparison cruelly. Just because
Nathanial preferred to call a handyman rather than be one, didn’t make him any
less a man than Will.

“I follow this blog about a New Orleans row house that took a
beating during Katrina,” she explained to dodge the wayward thoughts in her
head. “The new owner posts about all the work he does. I’ve learned a lot. This
is my first private lesson.”

Will liked that. She could tell by the way his gaze, so clear
and cutting, softened. “Feel free to pop over if there’s anything you’re
interested in seeing. When I’m around. The guys won’t let you hang around for
long since you’re not part of the crew.” He gave a small laugh. “I didn’t peg
you for a home improver.”

“I grew up around here, Will. Biltmore. Pinebrook. Johnson
Farm. Carl Sandburg’s house. I love that the city is preserving our history, and
I’m really glad to be a part. So thanks.” Somehow that came out sounding far
more intimate than she’d intended. She could feel it in the silence that fell
between them, the way Will suddenly averted his gaze to the windowsill.

He ran a light hand over the surface, came away with a film of
fine dust on his fingertips. “Not to rain on your parade, but the biggest reason
I ripped out the windowsills and trim next door is because of the lead paint.
It’s underneath all these layers. Don’t want it around the kids.”

“Absolutely not. But, um, I’m not going to glow or anything, am
I?” She hoped to restore the balance of humor and camaraderie between them,
since she was responsible for leaking all her intensity over him and shifting
the mood.

“Not as long as the lead paint is covered up by decades of
latex or you get rid of it. That’s why I brought the mask. Use it.” He eyed her
as if unsure she was trustworthy. “And don’t work with the heat stripper when
you’re tired. Peeling away all that paint can get eerily satisfying. You can
keep going way past the time you should stop. That’s when accidents happen.”

“Really?”

“Really. I once heat stripped every square inch of wood in this
old house over on Buncombe Street. Trust me. It’s like playing Spider Solitaire.
Or watching reruns of
Law and Order.
Two music notes
and a crime, and you don’t move for an hour.”

Kenzie laughed, steadied herself with a hand on his arm so she
didn’t fall on her butt. She had a hard time imagining this man sitting still
long enough to play Spider Solitaire.

“Go on.” Will motioned to the windowsill. “Finish that up so I
know I’m leaving the job in good hands.”

Seizing the distraction, she flipped the mask over her face
again and got busy stripping away the paint, working the putty knife into the
bumpy corners, so aware of Will’s gaze on her. But he let her work, allowed her
to determine when she’d stripped away all she could. She ran the sander with the
same motion he’d used, and when she was done, she turned to face him, found him
still crouched beside her, smiling.

“Excellent work.” He untangled her hair when it caught in the
elastic banding and lifted the mask over her head.

And they were so close, so exquisitely close that she might
have swayed forward the tiniest bit to find herself pressed up against the
muscular terrain of his body.

The sheer unruliness of that thought made her breath hitch, an
audible sound that drew his attention.

And one look into his suddenly smoky gaze, and Kenzie knew she
wasn’t the only one to notice their nearness.

The realization froze her to the spot, her face raised to his,
so close he only had to bend forward the tiniest bit and their mouths would
meet.

And he noticed that, too.
Want
was
all over his face, as if this moment was the progression of their every
interaction since they’d met. As if kneeling here was the most natural place in
the world for them to be.

She saw it. She felt it in the very deepest part of her, a
swooping sensation low in her belly.

“Kenzie.” Her name broke from him as a throaty breath between
them. “I can’t kiss you.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Things would get way too complicated.”

“They would,” she agreed.

With the matter settled between them, Will leaned back as if to
stand. Kenzie was the one who swayed forward and stretched up on her knees so
she could press her mouth against his.

Their mouths met, and they shared a breath.

Then his arms came around her, as strong as she’d known they
would be.

CHAPTER TWELVE

W
ILL
KNEW
FROM
the instant their
mouths met that kissing wasn’t the cure for wanting Kenzie. Not in this
lifetime. Not when her mouth softened against his, so lush and willing that he
couldn’t have kept from pulling her near if his life had depended on it.

Right now his life just might.

He’d lost a part of himself somewhere along the way, hadn’t
been whole, but she’d awakened his awareness with her gentle demands and
practical caring. Kissing her only proved he hadn’t vanished beneath the focused
and frazzled reality of life. He’d only ignored a part of himself that was
willing to be ignored. It had been for his own survival, probably, which could
explain why he awoke now with a vengeance.

For Kenzie, who made him feel like a man again.

She melted against him as if she belonged there, her long
dancer’s curves pressed into every place that mattered, her kiss tentative but
with that calm purpose so unique to her. Composed in the face of his fierce
arousal, dragging him in with her matter-of-fact eagerness.

Unable to stop, he speared his fingers through her silken hair,
so cool to the touch, a reminder he’d always known she was a woman designed to
touch. He dragged in the fresh scent of her with every greedy breath, the scent
that had branded her in his consciousness and disturbed needs so long
ignored.

She sighed against his mouth, a longing sound that hinted he
wasn’t the only one who had been ignoring needs, and that simple revelation
urged him to greater daring. Sliding his fingers along the slope of her nape, he
anchored her closer, explored the taste of her with his mouth.

Kenzie’s kiss was all gentle insistence, suggesting again on
some level her need was as great as his, although that hardly seemed possible.
But they’d clicked on so many levels and with some part of his brain Will
supposed he’d always known they would. He’d seen her respond with careful
distance, with concern that had turned detailed to-do lists into cooperation and
an offer to strip her own windowsills, with invitations to meals, in her caring
regard for Sam.

Will felt it now in the way she swayed against him, as if she’d
waited forever to touch him. He could feel it in the quiet excitement of her
responses as if she’d imagined how it would feel to press close. And the reality
of their bodies swaying against each other made Will glad he was already on his
knees, able to brace against her to steady himself.

His body betrayed him. But knowledge of his heated response
only seemed to encourage Kenzie. Dragging her hands down his back, she touched
him freely, a bold move that only proved her tranquil demeanor concealed deep
emotions. He’d sensed her strength from the very beginning, the deep conviction,
the fairness, the matter-of-fact concern. He wasn’t surprised to find her
passion ran as strong.

And the idea excited him on some gut-deep level. He wanted to
melt away her careful control, wanted to provoke the same craziness that was
churning inside him, wanted to hear his name burst from her lips unbidden. But
her name was the one to break the breathless quiet.

“Kenzie.”

Because he was rapidly losing the only part of him thinking
beneath the urgency. He trailed his mouth from hers, along the curve of her jaw,
along the smooth column of her throat until she trembled, her body so alive, so
eager.

And her tiny sigh that sifted in the quiet finally appealed to
his reason, to what was left functioning in the face of his arousal, and he
broke away from the taste of her silken skin. Raising his head, he pressed his
forehead to hers to brace himself steady as he traced the delicate angles of her
cheeks, her jaw, her throat. He couldn’t stop touching her, proving what he felt
was real, that she was real and he could touch her...

She exhaled another sigh, the sound mixing with their ragged
breaths and the undeniable intensity of the moment. Slowly, grudgingly, reality
intruded, demanding that a choice be made before they wound up naked and making
love on this floor.

That they could not do.

Kenzie finally tipped her face to his, and they stared at each
other, facing the truth of the chemistry between them, so much more than simple
desire. His chest shuddered on shallow breaths. Her mouth appeared moist and red
from their kisses. The world had shifted with her one bold move, because now
everything was changed. Completely.

Will simply didn’t have it in him to resist her just then, yet
a dim, rational portion of his mind resurrected her words.
If one parent chooses to act irresponsibly, then the responsibility falls
on the other parent to balance the situation as best they can.

Will was the balance. He had to be.

And with that sober reminder came the realization that as much
as he wanted Kenzie, he had to step back from his need for immediate
gratification and assess the consequences of acting on his need. For Sam. For
Kenzie. And, yes, even for himself.

But Will didn’t stand a chance of keeping his hands off her,
not without a little distance. Sinking back, he leaned against the sofa,
stretched a leg out before him, hooked an arm over his knee. The distance had
the desired effect. The storm surge in his body eased the smallest bit, enough
to make sense of the beautiful woman in front of him, and how much he wanted
her.

She gazed at him with a gentle expression, as if their kiss
might have been everything she’d expected, and wanted.

He recognized her response from some long-buried instinct, the
man who had been shut down for so long. Women had once come easily to him, but
he’d always been looking for something more than just sex, had sought it in his
high school girlfriend, then Melinda. Never a serial dater but a man always
trying to grasp something solid, make it his permanently.

That random thought surprised Will, and helped him wrap his
brain around a few more realities, a few more responsibilities.

“We’ve complicated everything,” Kenzie said softly, her voice
thrumming through him with such power.

He nodded.

A few months ago, he would have rationalized seizing this
unexpected opportunity. A few stolen encounters here and there while he worked
on the building. Then the renovations would be done and Angel House would take
up occupancy, and both he and Kenzie would move on with some fine memories.

But as Will watched her watching him, sitting back and tucking
her legs underneath her, looking somehow disappointed with her kiss-bruised lips
and tousled hair, he knew that was a few months ago. Now all he could think
about was how giving in to their desire had consequences.

“So, now what?” It was a legitimate, if pathetic, question, but
Will didn’t have anything more in him, not when he wanted her more than he’d
ever remembered wanting.

She shrugged lightly, maybe even trying to appear casual. “I
suppose we should figure that out.”

“Not too much to figure from my end. I’m a lousy candidate for
a date.”

“How’s that?”

He gave a snort of laughter. “I’m committed and overcommitted.
I open my eyes to a calendar filled with more things than I’ll ever get around
to in a month, let alone a day. A date with me involves seconds stolen from what
I’m supposed to be doing, which is everything but what I want to do.”

He paused, and disliked admitting this. “You deserve a lot
better than I have to give, Kenzie.”

She frowned. “But there’s got to be some time for you in there.
Otherwise you’ll burn out and not be any good for Sam, or everyone else who
counts on you. There are lots of those people counting on you.”

“No doubt there.” Deanne. Angel House parents. His employees.
The mayor. The citizens of Hendersonville. The list went on. He got dizzy
thinking about it, which was why he didn’t. He simply put his head down and kept
placing one foot in front of the other.

But Kenzie didn’t seem to get it because she smiled again, as
if she thought being counted on was a good thing. “So what’s wrong with enjoying
your few seconds?”

“When I say seconds, I mean seconds.” She seemed to be ignoring
the part about deserving more than seconds. “A relationship can’t go anywhere
with me. I’m a dead end.”

“What exactly is a dead end?”

“It means I’m not free, and I won’t be. Sam’s got dibs on my
time.”

“And there’s no room for anyone else with you two? I mean,
besides Sam’s mom, of course. I know you’ll always be a family.”

Kenzie did know. Will remembered her saying exactly that in her
class. But he didn’t want Melinda to be a part of this conversation. Just the
thought of her helped him put a little more distance between him and his
feelings.

“How would that be fair to you, or to any woman? Sam’s a great
kid. I wouldn’t have chosen autism for him if I’d have had a choice, but I
wouldn’t change a thing about our lives. I mean that. It’s different. But for
all the complications there are a lot of great things that most people wouldn’t
be aware of unless they were dealing with the situation.”

She appeared to consider that. “Is this why you’re so close
with the people at Angel House?”

“We’re all doing variations of the same thing. We understand
the demands. It’s nonstop, at least at this stage of the game. I’m hoping that
will change in time.”

“Okay, I get that, but I’m still not seeing the problem.”

Will didn’t understand
that.
As far
as he was concerned the problem was self-evident. “Kenzie, what’s happening
right now is exactly what I’m talking about. We kissed. All I want to do is kiss
you again, but I come with all sorts of baggage. So instead of kissing, I’m
establishing boundaries so I can be fair to you.” And so he could handle how he
felt about her. But he wouldn’t complicate the issue by admitting that.

“Why can’t we just kiss and leave it at that?”

God, what did he even say to that? “Because when I was kissing
you, I wanted to be doing a lot more than kissing.”

“Me, too.” Her gaze sparkled. Her expression lit up with such
amusement that Will couldn’t help but laugh.

His life really was a joke. And not a funny one.

“I don’t have a future to give, either, Will. I come with my
own set of strings.”

“You’re talking about your attorney?”

She nodded, tousled red waves distracting him, making him yearn
to feel their cool silk beneath his fingers again.

Definitely a joke.

“Do I need to be watching my rearview mirror?” Will asked. “Is
he going to rear-end my truck because I kissed his girl?”

That appeared to tickle her, judging by her twinkling gaze. “I
think his BMW would lose. You drive a really big truck.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Nathanial and I aren’t dating, so no worries.”

Will had been right all along. The attorney was a complete
loser. “So where does that leave us?”

“Why can’t we keep doing what we’ve been doing?”

He’d been getting ready to make his move so he could get her
clothes off. “What’s that exactly?”

“Getting to know each other, I guess.”

She didn’t sound too sure. He definitely wasn’t. “So we agree
on no relationship? We’ll be what, then...friends?”

“I can do friends,” she said, and something about her admission
sounded so wistful. “I’m really good at friendship.”

Will guessed there was more in that statement than he could
know, but he was so busy looking to his own self-preservation that he decided to
simply take her at her word. There wasn’t enough distance between them yet. Not
nearly enough. His blood still pooled in his crotch, and all he wanted to do was
pull her into his arms and kiss that wistful expression off her face, prove that
whatever was bugging her about friendship couldn’t be all bad. Friendship could
have benefits.

He could handle getting to know her. He’d been doing that
already, right?

* * *

“G
IVE
ME
THAT
glass right now, Kenzie.” Lou wasn’t even through Kenzie’s front door before she
shifted her grocery bag and reached for the wineglass Kenzie held. “Depression
needs something to perk you up, not sedate you. You’ll make things way worse
with
that.
”

Lou made wine sound like a contagious disease.

“How can my favorite wine possibly make things worse?” Kenzie
clung to the glass like a life preserver. As if her mood could even get any
worse. Not likely.

“The thought of drinking wine is depressing
me.
Don’t you know anything about using alcohol as a
coping skill?”

“Obviously not.” Kenzie gave in before the delicate stem
snapped in her hand and she had pricey Malbec all over the foyer. “Can’t run the
agency without you. Can’t tackle depression without you. Do you want a
raise?”

Lou chuckled and made a beeline straight for the kitchen,
calling over her shoulder, “I should run with this, right? But if I kick you
while you’re down, then I’ll be depressed.”

That made Kenzie laugh, for the first time all week because her
life had degenerated into two distinct phases—before kissing Will and after. The
after
phase marked the first time she’d ever
followed her inner child’s urgings.

Only to reestablish that there was a very good reason she
taught classes on learning to manage the inner child.

Lou tossed the contents of that freshly poured glass into the
sink. Kenzie hadn’t even taken the first sip, had been allowing the Malbec to
breathe when the doorbell rang.

Her favorite Malbec, thank you very much, Mr.
White-wine-is-better. Or Mr. I-can-only-be-a-friend.

She shot across the kitchen before the rest of the nearly full
bottle wound up following down the drain. She wouldn’t put it past Lou. “I’ll
bottle this up for another night.”