This Heart of Mine (22 page)

"Those are children's books. I can't imagine why you'd bother reading them."

"Curiosity. You know, there are a couple of things about Benny that seem kind of familiar. For example—"

"Really? Well, thank you. He's entirely imaginary, but I do try to give all my characters qualities that readers can identify with."

"Yeah, well, I can identify with Benny, all right." He gazed down at a drawing of Benny wearing sunglasses that looked very much like his silver-rimmed Revos. "One thing I don't understand… The store owner said she'd gotten some pressure from one of her customers to take the books off the shelf because they were pornographic. Tell me what I'm missing."

Roo finally hopped off the couch and came over to greet her. She leaned down to pat him. "Have you ever heard of SKIFSA? Straight Kids for a Straight America?"

"Sure. They get their kicks going after gays and lesbians. The women all have big hair, and the men show too much teeth when they smile."

"Exactly. And right now they're after my bunny."

"What do you mean?" Roo trotted back to Kevin.

"They're attacking the Daphne series as homosexual propaganda."

Kevin started to laugh.

"I'm not kidding. They hadn't paid any attention to my books until we got married, but after all the stories about us appeared in the press, they decided to jump on the publicity bandwagon and go after me." She found herself telling him about her conversation with Helen and the changes Birdcage wanted in the Daphne books.

"I hope you told her exactly what she could do with her changes."

"It's not that easy. I have a contract, and they're keeping
Daphne Takes a Tumble
off the publication schedule until I send them the new illustrations." She didn't mention the rest of the advance money they owed her. "Besides, it's not as if moving Daphne and Melissa a few inches farther apart affects the story."

"Then why haven't you done the drawings?"

"I've had some troubles with… with writer's block. But it's gotten a lot better since I've been here."

"So now you're going to do them?"

She didn't like the disapproval she detected in his voice. "It's easy to stand on principle when you have a few million dollars in the bank, but I don't."

"I guess."

She got up and headed into the kitchen. As she pulled out a bottle of wine, Roo rubbed against her ankles. She heard Kevin come up behind her.

"We're drinking again, are we?"

"You're strong enough to fight me off if I get out of hand."

"Just don't make me hurt my passing arm."

She smiled and poured. He took the glass she handed him, and by unspoken agreement they walked together out onto the porch. The glider squeaked as he eased down next to her and took a sip of wine.

"You're a good writer, Molly. I can see why kids like your books. When you were drawing Benny, did you happen to notice how much—"

"What's with you and my pooch?"

"Damned if I know." He glared down at the poodle, who'd collapsed over one of his feet. "He followed me back here from the B&B. Believe me, I didn't encourage it."

Molly remembered the way Roo had picked up on Kevin's distress in the garden with Lilly. Apparently they had bonded, only Kevin didn't know it yet.

"How's your leg?" he asked.

"Leg?"

"Any aftereffects from that cramp?"

"It's… a little sore. Very sore. Sort of this dull throb. Pretty painful, actually. I'll have to take some Tylenol. But I'm sure it'll be better by tomorrow."

"No more swimming alone, okay? I'm serious. It was a stupid thing to do." He propped his arm along the back of the cushions and gave her his I-mean-business-you-lowlife-rookie look. "And while we're at it, don't get too cozy with Lilly."

"I don't think you have to worry about that. In case you didn't notice, she's not too fond of me. Still, I think you need to hear her out."

"That's not going to happen. This is my life, Molly, and you don't understand anything about it."

"That's not exactly true," she said carefully. "I'm an orphan, too."

He withdrew his arm. "You don't get to call yourself an orphan if you're over twenty-one."

"The point is, my mother died when I was two, so I know something about feeling disconnected from your roots."

"Our circumstances aren't anything alike, so don't try to make comparisons." He gazed out into the woods. "I had two great parents. You didn't have any."

"I had Phoebe and Dan."

"You were a teenager by then. Before that, you seem to have raised yourself."

He was deliberately turning the conversation away from himself. She understood that, too, and she let him do it. "Me and Danielle Steel."

"What are you talking about?"

"I was a fan, and I knew she had lots of kids. I used to pretend I was one of them." She smiled at his amusement. "Now, some might find that pathetic, but I think it was pretty creative."

"It's definitely original."

"Then I'd fantasize a mercifully painless death for Bert, at which point it would be magically revealed that he wasn't my father at all. My real father was—"

"Let me guess. Bill Cosby."

"I wasn't that well adjusted. It was Bruce Springsteen. And no comments, okay?"

"Why should I comment when Freud already did the job?"

Molly wrinkled her nose at him. They sat in surprisingly companionable silence, broken only by Roo's rhythmic snores. But Molly'd never been good at leaving well enough alone. "I still think you need to hear her out."

"I can't come up with a single reason why."

"Because she won't go away until you do. And because this will keep hovering over you for the rest of your life."

He set down his glass. "Maybe the reason you're so obsessed with analyzing my life is so you won't get depressed thinking about your own neuroses."

"Probably."

He rose from the glider. "What do you say we go into town for some dinner?"

She'd already spent far too much time with him today, but she couldn't stand the idea of staying here alone tonight while he painted the town German chocolate. "I suppose. Let me get a sweater."

As she headed back to her bedroom, she told herself what she already knew. Going out to dinner with him was a lousy idea, just as lousy as the two of them sitting around on the porch drinking wine together. Almost as lousy as not insisting he sleep under another roof.

Even though she didn't care about impressing him, she decided a shawl would make a better fashion statement with her sundress than a sweater, and she whipped out the bright red tablecloth she'd discovered in the bottom drawer of the dresser. As she unfolded it, she spotted something strange on the table next to her bed, something that hadn't been there earlier and that definitely didn't belong to her. "
Aarrrggghhhh
!"

Kevin shot into the room. "What's wrong?"

"Look at that!" She pointed at the small bottle of drugstore perfume. "That meddling little…
trollop
!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Amy stuck that perfume there!" She rounded on him. "Bite me!"

"Why are you mad at me? I didn't do it."

"No! Bite me. Give me a hickey right here." She jabbed her finger at a spot a few inches above her collarbone.

"You want me to give you a hickey?"

"Are you deaf?"

"Just thunderstruck."

"There's no one else I can ask, and I can't stand spending another day getting marital advice from a nineteen-year-old nymphomaniac. This'll put a stop to it."

"Did anybody ever mention you might be a few french fries short of a Happy Meal?"

"Go ahead. Make fun of me. She doesn't condescend to you the same way she does to me."

"Forget it. I'm not giving you a hickey."

"Fine. I'll get someone else to do it."

"You will not!"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. I'll ask Charlotte Long."

"That's disgusting."

"She knows how the lovebirds behave. She'll understand."

"The image of that woman chomping on your neck just took away my appetite. And don't you think it'll be a little embarrassing showing off your bruise when other people are around?"

"I'll wear something with a collar, and I'll flip it up."

"Then push it right back down when you see Amy."

"Okay, I'm not proud of myself. But if I don't do something, I'm going to strangle her."

"She's just a teenager. Why do you care?"

"Fine. Forget it."

"And have you run off to Charlotte Long?" His voice dropped a husky note. "I don't think so."

She swallowed. "You'll do it?"

"I guess I have to."

Oh, boy
… She squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her neck toward him. Her heart started to pound. What did she think she was doing?

Not a thing, apparently, because he didn't touch her.

She opened her eyes and blinked. "Could you, uh, hurry up?"

He didn't touch her, but neither did he move away. Oh, God, why did he have to be so gorgeous? Why couldn't he have wrinkly skin and a big potbelly instead of being a walking advertisement for hard bodies? "What are you waiting for?"

"I haven't given a girl a hickey since I was fourteen."

"I'm sure it'll come back if you concentrate."

"Concentration isn't my problem."

The gleam in those smoky green eyes indicated that her behavior had put her right on the border between eccentric and insane. Her burst of temper had faded. She had to extricate herself. "Oh, never mind."

She spun around to leave, but he caught her arm. The feel of his fingers on her skin made her shiver. "I didn't say I wouldn't. I just need to warm up a little."

Even if her feet had caught fire, she couldn't have moved.

"I can't just lunge and bite." His thumb stroked her arm. "It's not in my nature." Goose bumps quivered over her skin as he lifted his hand and trailed a finger over the curve of her neck.

Her voice developed a really annoying rasp. "It's all right. Go ahead and lunge."

"I'm a professional athlete." His words were a seductive caress as he traced a lazy S to the base of her throat. "Lack of a proper warm-up leads to injuries."

"That's the point, isn't it? An… injury?"

He didn't reply, and she stopped breathing as his mouth came closer. She felt a shock when his lips brushed the corner of hers.

He hadn't even made a direct hit, but her bones melted. She heard a soft, indecipherable sound and realized it had come from her, the easiest woman on planet earth.

He pulled her against him, a gentle movement, but the contact sizzled. Hard bone and warm flesh. She wanted all of his mouth, and she turned her head to find it, but he altered course. Instead of giving her the kiss she yearned for, he touched the opposite corner of her mouth.

Her blood pounded. His lips trailed from her jaw to her neck. Then he got ready to do exactly as she'd asked.

I've changed my mind! Please don't bite!

He didn't. He played at her throat until her breathing came fast and shallow. She hated him for teasing her, but couldn't make herself push away. And then he put an end to the game and kissed her for real.

The world spun, and everything turned upside down. His arms cradled her as if she really belonged inside them. She didn't know whose lips parted first, but their tongues touched.

It was a kiss made in lonely dreams. A kiss that took its time. A kiss that felt so right she couldn't remember all the reasons it was wrong.

His hand plowed through her hair, and those hard hips pressed against hers. She felt what she'd done to him and loved it. Her breast tingled as he covered it with his palm.

He yelped and snatched his hand away. "Damn it!"

She sprang back and instinctively checked to see if her breast had grown teeth. But it wasn't her breast.

He glared down at Roo, whose sharp, canine nails were digging into his leg. "Go away, mutt!"

Reality crashed back in on her. Just what did she think she was doing playing kissy-face with Mr. I'm Too Sexy? And she couldn't even blame him for letting things get out of hand because she was the one who'd started it.

"Stop it, Roo." Shaken, she pulled the dog away.

"Don't you ever trim the Klingon's toenails?"

"He wasn't attacking you. He just wanted to play."

"Yeah? Well, so did I!"

A long silence quivered between them.

She wanted him to be the first to look away, but he didn't, so she looked right back. It was unnerving. While she felt like hiding under the bed, he seemed perfectly willing to stand there all evening and think things over. The breast he'd touched still felt warm.