You Called Me-ARE and Apple epub (11 page)

“Get in,” he offered, anger pressed his mouth into a slash as held the door open. The interior lights came on and the door alarm dinged as she got into the truck. Before he had her door closed, Jonathan’s hand closed over the edge of the door.

“Wait, Kenya. I tried calling, but you never answered.” Flushed red cheeks crowded the cabin as he leaned over her lap, a hand on her seatbelt.

“Don’t explain. You were just playing with the prim and sheltered banker. I got it,” she said, crossing her arms. Lord, she was a joke. Getting all excited because this handsome guy smiled at her. “Tell me what I owe for the limo ride and dessert at the club the other night and I’ll write you a check.”

His hand caressing her face inclined her stare to meet his apologetic eyes.” Kenya, I never played you. Check your messages.”

Since she hadn't slept with him, he lied and said he wasn't going and called in his back-up booty call. Why did she even care? She came to get her volunteer hours that’s all. His fake family emergency, she wanted to elbow him in his jaw. Why didn't he just say he'd rather take a sure thing than her and make her look like a fool? “Move so I can close the door. It’s cold.” She shrugged off his hand only to have it close over hers.

“I’ll explain on the bus...everyone's waiting,” Jonathan stepped closer as Randall angled in along the running board of the SUV beside her seat.

“She said move,” Randall warned, moving beside Jonathan’s arm.

Jonathan's fingers curling into a fist at his thigh caught her attention. No this is not what she wanted, no fighting. Randall and Jonathan stood chest to chest, steam rising from their flaring nostrils. She scooted off her seat squeezed her body between the two men and got Jonathan's attention.

“Mr. Blakemore, is there another bus?”

“Nae.”His baroque thickened as his frown squeezed lines out around his severe eyes, his attention focused on Randall.

“Than what’s that behind the bus, a transformer?” Irritation blossomed through her as she pointed across the lot to the black and gray vehicle. Jonathan stayed focused on her face never looking at the bus. “Third precinct has a smaller group. They charted a limo-van.”

“Perfect, I'll bunk in their cabin, I don't mind doubling up or sharing a sleeping bag. I need my volunteer hours and this is my last hope, Blakemore.” Randall and Jonathan towered her on both side as if redwood trees and had to get out of there. Next, they'd start punching each other like toy robots? She hugged Randall, assured him everything would be okay, wiggled her pack from his hand, then crossing the parking lot she left them and got on the van. Inside, out of view, on the rubber treaded step, took a quick peak out the driver’s windshield and jerked back. Both men had watched her get on the van were staring at the van Now if only she believed her words, she could release the breath she took a minute ago, now trapped in her chest under a lump of
why did you let this happen
?

Comfortable and lush, were the perfect adjectives for her skiing chariot. Kenya ran her hand over the seats as she walked down the isle of the van. Tall, bucket leather seats, cup holders in the arm rests and a blanket folded over the headrest. Ducking, Kenya read the name above the driver's visor, Holiday Tour line, afraid she'd walked onto a private jet. This had Jonathan stamped all over it. Shrugging off her jacket she hung it on the metal hook under the window, emptied her essentials from the backpack for traveling out over the seat, ear buds, granola bars and music. Tucking her backpack under the seat she turned around could see Randall’s truck lights on, the big SUV idling beside the curb where she'd left him and Jonathan to kiss and makeup. She smiled knowing he waited to see if she changed her mind. He was a good friend, too good to be a single brother, handsome and professional. She quickly text,
Go home I’m fine. Thank you again. Kenya
.

Jonathan stood speaking to the woman wrapped around him like cellophane. Kenya would swear his forehead creased. She settled in against the plush seats, closing her eyes, and never felt him until he eased in next to her on the seat closing a hand over hers in her lap their fingers threaded together. His cologne should have given him away. Lord the man smelled amazing.

“You've proved your point, Kenya. Join me on the bus.”

“There is no point to prove, Jonathan. I’m fine right here. How long is the ride?” Folding her legs, she angled toward the window never giving him eye contact. A second smell hit her nose. Judge. She never met a dog that wore cologne. His big head nudged her knee…he liked her.

“Hey. I didn’t know you would be here, I’m glad I came now.” Judge angled a glance up to Jonathan and Kenya wanted to laugh. It was as if the dog were asking permission. “He wants to stay.”

“Kenya,” he said behind an exasperated tight-lipped smile. She wouldn’t feel pity for him either it was his own fault for lying. She could hear the others on the bus quiet down. Great, now they appeared to be having a lovers’ quarrel. “She’s my cousin. Fiona came up to help me when you didn't return my calls. I left messages, but obviously, you didn’t get them.”

“I got it now. But just so you know for next time. When you try to make a woman believe another woman is family, tell your girlfriend to keep her tongue out of your ear.”

Kenya watched his body seize up. “Either you believe me or you don’t, Ms. Claiborne.”

She leaned back into his shoulder, and said, “I haven't decided, Jonathan. It's fine. You wanted someone for your bed not a volunteer. This other precinct said they could use my help with this group. They’ll vouch for my hours with my boss, so don’t worry about me. I would like to keep Judge, if you don't mind?”

“There’s no more cabins, you’ll stay with me...us.” His Gaelic hung thick and heavy in the air. It pressed at her like an old quilt.

“I told you I’m not into ménages. Jonathan, go back to your…”she made quotation marks in the air, “family. It would’ve been nice if you could’ve just told me the truth. I was starting to think you might not be a pervert after all. Maybe you truly wanted to help.” She squeezed her thighs together feeling his breath on her neck and his chiseled cheek along hers.

“I told you the truth, Kenya. Plans changed again at the last minute. I still want you to help with my group, but if you call me a pervert again I'll show you just how perverted I can be. I want you in my bed and plan to have you there soon, but I'll never lie to get you there. When you’re ready, bring a change of clothes. You'll be there all night.”

Kenya found her toes had started to curl in her boots.

A light flashed on the bus in front of the van.

“I think the driver’s ready to go. You should go to your seat. I’m gonna stretch out.”

They both looked up as a woman with jet-black hair crossed under the overhead bus interior lights. This had to be Fiona. Kenya couldn’t make out her features in the morning darkness, but could smell her expensive perfume the closer the woman came to her seat.

“Jonathan, I thought our seats were on the other bus.” Kenya could see the family resemblance and felt a stitch of guilt for poking him like that, but not enough to let him know.

“Kenya this is Fiona. Fiona, this is Kenya Claiborne. We’re…”

“Cousins,” Kenya muttered, twisting around, she held a hand out to the woman. “You already told me, Blakemore…Nice to meet you, Fiona.”

“Ms. Claiborne, I’m glad Jonathan has someone here to help because we have important family matters to go over. I’m sure you understand he won’t be around much to…talk to you.”

Would “sick-um” work with Judge and he would chew off Fiona’s foot.

“Good, then I can enjoy myself with Judge here,” she told him scratching the big dog’s back. “If you’ll excuse me I need to listen to my book.”

“Romance novel, Kenya?” Fiona snarled, her tone dripped with irritation. Whatever her problem was, it wasn’t Kenya’s. 

“Not my thing, Fiona, sorry to disappoint, but I’m reading up on some financials for a client.”

“Oh, so you work for Jonathan?”

“No, I don’t…work…for Jonathan. I work for Universal Funding. I handle corporate accounts. Mr. Blakemore sought me out too help. He was desperate his hour of need. He’s all yours.”

Don’t worry she was done with Mr. Blakemore after this trip. Fiona might be…
family
, but Kenya wasn’t stepping between a man and his kissing cousin. Gross.

“I’m trying to convince my cousin to come home and help out with some family business,” Fiona said a little too harsh.

“Your bus is ready to pull out, Jonathan. Have a good time.”

She popped her headphones over her ears then sucked in a breath. Jonathan's fingers pushed her legs apart just above the knee, hooking Judge's leash under her thigh. His fingers stroked higher up than necessary when he slid them out rubbing her leg.

“If you lose my dog, Ms. Claiborne, I'll expect to be compensated and a check won't cover the cost,” he warned in a tone that moved up her skin and played along her panties. Small licks of fire, was this the red flag her aunt told her to listen for because she could see it only she liked the way it moved in the air. Judge spread out on the floor when Jonathan and Fiona stepped from the bus.

She wiggled down into her seat got comfortable. Soft blue light glowed under her coat’s breast pocket. Fishing out her cell, she cringed seeing Jonathan had left her a message just that fast.

Get your kids settled then meet me in the kitchen in the main cabin.

Reply:
I don’t think so.

Jonathan shrugged on his ski jacket, slipping his cell into the sleeve pocket and trudged out of the boy’s cabin. Kenya had told him thank you and nothing more when the buses unloaded and she’d handed him Judge's leash. The sight of her hips swaying through the crowd had him tongue-tied. She’d teased him on purpose.  

All the boys accounted for the time came to meet Kenya. He hoped she showed. He trudged through the six inches of snow, across the wood bridge separating the cabins from the main cabin where the meals were served.

Frustrated, and Judge at his side, he peered out over the sparkling snow, searching for Kenya's boot tracks. Where was she?  

He hadn’t expected to see her when he arrived to load the kids on the bus thinking she received his message, but was stunned at how good it felt to see her standing in the parking lot. The white coat collar framed her beautiful face, made it glow under the lights. When he came over to the truck and saw the two braids hanging down over her chest, he’d never seen a sweeter woman. Wanted to lay her back on the seat and take her there, outside.

Judge moving around his feet brought him around to see Kenya approaching. She crouched on the ground, running her hands over his dog, her gorgeous face looking up at him. 

“Five minutes, Jonathan. I’m way out on the other side of the lake and I don’t want to get lost trying to get back this evening.”

Seeing her face in the afternoon sun, he just wanted to walk through the snow with her. Why did she affect him like this?

Threading his hand beneath hers, bringing her to her feet he led them around to the back of the log cabin. Stepping around the drain spout, he tucked her closer to his side, steadying her step. Judge falling in beside them. He rested a hip on the split rail fence, still holding her gloved hands, breathing in the cold air. Reaching out, he rolled one of her braids in his palm, snow glittering off the near black surface.

“Untwist your mouth, Pretty Lady,” relaxing his legs, he told her letting his hand drag down her arm grasping her wrists. “Tell me, is it Fiona or did I do something?”

He watched the light in her eyes dull.

“I’m here now. This week I placed too much importance on your flirting. The sixteen dozen roses were impressive. I’m over it now.” He tugged her. The woman was sexy standing between his knees. Resting his hands on her round hips, he set his attention on her soft face.  

“I don’t explain my actions often. I asked you to be here and I take responsibility for not ensuring you were aware of the change in plans. Fiona, as I told you, is my cousin. She’s here from Ireland to go over some family matters. I worked a few things out so I could still bring the kids up this weekend, but I'm going to Ireland next week. I called the lodge and they said you were coming. You need the hours so I'm glad you came. Fiona's staying in the girl’s cabin.”

“Jonathan, I meant what I said about not sharing a cabin with you.” She peered around the alley behind the cabin. He waited. “I’m glad you have your family here to help you. And more than anything I’m glad I came regardless of whether you had or not.”

“I’m forgiven?”

“I won’t see you again after this weekend. Does it matter?”

Something tightened in his chest. It mattered. He wanted to see her again.

“I’ll need another volunteer in the spring when they go swimming. It makes sense to secure your involvement now while you’re up here. I can get you signed up instead now,” he told her thinking of Kenya in a bikini. He could picture it, a white string bikini with the ties on the side and them lying in a secluded corner away from the kids. Her wet skin glittering under the sun, the thought made his mouth water. He had to get her back up there in the meantime he wanted her in his bed. “Decide later after you’ve moved into my cabin. I have a king-sized bed. Move your things over. Stay with me.”

“I don’t think I’ll be doing this again, Blakemore,” Kenya said and he caught the blush in her cheeks before she began to speak. “I don’t share beds with men I don’t know. My accommodations are fine.”

He liked her confidence.

“White is flattering to your complexion.” Touching the hem of her jacket Jonathan rubbed his knuckles over Kenya's curvy hip.

“You just don’t stop flirting, do you?”

“When did it become a crime to compliment a woman?”

“When you’re stroking her hip,” she complained and he liked the sound, a fighter.

“Walk away if you don’t like it.”

Fisting her hips when he felt her stepping out of his grasp, Jonathan flexed his fingers on her legs, pulled her against his chest. Angling his face over hers, he said, “I’ll let that little show of defiance go for now.”