Pretty In Pink (4 page)

“You want me to run home? I have a
few.” Charlie pushed his hands into his pockets and waited. His jeans slid
lower on his hips, scrambling her brain more. Funny, she had been totally calm
and ambivalent about Charlie Brewster until she’d been close enough to really
see him. Smell him. Feel that warm, kind energy that baked off of him like heat
off a woodstove.

“You really don’t have to. I regret I
even bothered you. I’m just…”

“Hey,” he said, and shocked her by
putting his finger out and resting his fingertip along her top lip to hush her.
“It’s no big deal. At all. I’m happy to help. And besides, Clarice is in hog
heaven. A
roll
of butcher’s paper and things to draw with? To her, it’s
Christmas already!”

Kimber grinned. “Just call me
ho-ho-ho! Well, no, don’t call me ho. That would be bad. I meant Santa. That’s
what I meant.” Her mouth took off going ninety while her brain told her to shut
up.

“Santa never looked so good,” Charlie
said and moved his finger only to replace it with his lips. He kissed her
softly, and she startled. But the jolt ceased and a sizzling rush of warmth
flared in her belly and chest. Her breath stalled in her throat, and she kissed
him back.

He pulled back, staring at his work
boots. “Gosh,” Kimber said.
Gosh! Who said gosh?

“That was rude.” He shook his head,
frowned.

“No. Not rude. Really unexpected, but
not…”

“I should know better. I’m a cop for
God’s sake. You could press charges,” he said and laughed. It was a bitter kind
of laugh and made her wonder. “Hammer?”

“Oh, in the kitchen,” Kimber said and
he turned in the doorway to leave. “I won’t!” she called.

Charlie turned back. “What?”

“I won't press charges.”

That made him smile and that made her
heart happy for an instant. She was off men, and he might not be totally safe,
but he was nice. So her being off men and whatnot, it was fine. It was just a
kiss.

“I’m glad.” He hit the steps, his
boots echoing in the hall.

His kiss created a rush of heat in her
body. It had been a long time since she’d been with a man. She could remember
going down on Johnny. It was something she liked to do. She liked the feel of
his cock on her lips, liked to wrap her tongue along his length and suck until
his breath double clutched in his throat. His hands tugged at her hair and he
fucked her mouth in that way that said he wanted her. Bad.

Johnny could be rough but just rough
enough that she liked it. It was that one little part of his pig headedness
that she did enjoy.

The night it ended, he’d turned her
quickly so that she let out a little cry and then he'd driven into her from
behind. Hard and fast, one finger turning circles of friction on her tight
little clit. Johnny's teeth had found her nape and he'd bitten down like an
animal claiming his mate. He’d come in a short quick burst of air and moans and
Kimber had followed suit, lost in the flurry of movement and pleasure. Her
pussy clamping up around him, her body rolling with the rush of release. She'd
shivered and jumped under his warm bulk and then had turned to kiss him. That’s
when he’d said, “If I marry you, will you give up this stupid dream of starting
your own business?”

She’d kicked his ass out five seconds
later.

Charlie's kiss had been hot and soft
and just hard enough to excite her. All of her had responded to him and the way
he held her arms said he could take her. He could take her and make her come
and not leave her feeling small or insignificant or sad.

“I'll be damned.” Kimber touched her
lips. They still  tingled with his energy. “He is bi.”

Chapter 3

What the hell was he thinking? It
hadn’t been long enough. And you most certainly didn’t ever hook up with your
neighbor. If it all went sour, which it surely would eventually, where the hell
did you go?
Don’t be an ass.

“Wow, Mr. Jackboots! What’s the
problem?” Sarah said, her head popping around the corner. Clarice looked up and
smiled. She looked so cute tucked at Kimber’s red painted dining room table.
Yellow and green polka dots covered the artistic kitschy furniture. It
certainly was a mood lifter.

He realized he'd been walking sort
of…militaristically. “I forgot how loud they were.”

“He’s upset,” Clarice said, coloring
away, not looking up.

“Hey!” Charlie said.

“Oh, really? Do tell.” Sarah laughed.
She looked way too interested in his mood for Charlie’s taste.

“There’s nothing to tell,” he said,
going into the kitchen. He looked around, nothing in the world resembled a tool
box. “Hammer?” he asked Sarah.

“Hammer?”

“He always walks hard when he’s mad,”
Clarice piped in.

“Are you mad?” Sarah asked, eyes wide.

“No. I am not mad. Hammer?”

“The hammer’s in the cookie jar.”
Kimber came up behind her friend. She eyes the butcher’s paper.“Lovely Santa’s
village ladies. Charlie’s going to help me with the gutter. It’s frozen and
pulling away.”

“There’s your monster,” Clarice said.

“I’ll be damned,” Sarah said.

Kimber nudged her friend. “Sarah,
language.”

“I've heard worse,” Clarice said.

Charlie laughed. “In the cookie jar. Of
course. Where else would you keep a hammer?”

He stomped back upstairs, not angry
with Kimber, but with himself. He shouldn’t have kissed her. Shit, he shouldn’t
have
wanted
to kiss her. Priscilla had just smashed his heart to bits.
For no damn good reason. And…

“Are you angry with me?” she asked
from the doorway.

“Of course not. No. Why?” But he
leaned out the window to put space between them. Being in the room with her was
a bit too much.

“You seem mad.”

“At me.” He banged against the rogue
nails to secure the gutter.

“What did you do?” she asked softly. The
hammering mangled her words, but he heard her.

“Nothing. I kissed you and I shouldn't
have.”

“It’s . I really don’t—”

But Charlie barreled on, drowning her
out, wanting to explain. “I just ended something. Okay, that’s a lie. It was ended.
And things are insane. My sister and Clarice buying a house, Christmas, snow,
and now my partner wants to come back.”
Bang, bang, bang.
Carl had been
one of the men Priscilla has cheated with. Carl, his own goddamn partner. She’d
left him for a different guy, and Carl had slithered off to Florida. Charlie
had started to rebuild his life without the woman he’d assumed would be his
life forever and without a partner he considered a brother.

Charlie reeled himself in and stared
at Kimber. Everything was a mess and he wasn't being fair to her. His life
consisted of babysitting, overdue errands, nursing his broken heart and now he
had to deal with old wounds. Plus, he had a new partner, Terry. He’d grown fond
of and accustomed to Terry. She was a tall blonde who could kick ass, take
names, and get a perp in cuffs before you could blink. And he didn’t think he
had the emotional fortitude to work with Carl just yet, if ever. He half feared
shooting him. Accidentally, mind you, but the subconscious…what a tricky thing.

Kimber blinked and looked almost like
she would cry. Which broke his heart.  There was something about his new
neighbor that made him want to protect her. And make her safe. He’d damn near
broken his own neck getting over here to help her because as soon as she had
described her problem, he’d known the answer. And he was so happy to be able to
help, even though he didn’t want to be. He shouldn’t care at all. Not this
soon. Hell, the next decade would be too soon.

“That does sound stressful,” she interrupted
his thoughts. Bright red spots of embarrassment, or anger, or maybe just cold
stood out on her pale cheeks. She twirled one finger in her dark brown hair and
she looked like a living doll.

“So, I’m all kinds of confused. And
this time of year doesn’t help, does it?”

“No.” she shook her head, taking a
step back.

“I apologize if I freaked you out. Or
was out of line. I’m just sorry I kissed you,” he said. He hadn’t wanted to
upset her. It had been rude of him, but the urge had been so swift and all
consuming, he’d been powerless to rein himself in before he acted. Now she
blinked furiously. Charlie took a step toward her and reached for her arm, but
Kimber backpedaled fast with a shrill laugh.

“It’s really okay! Fine. No worries.
Thanks for bailing me out. Seriously. I mean I am so indebted. That never would
have occurred to me. I’d have ended up calling a plumber. Or the police.” She
laughed again, but her face was unconvincing. “But I guess I did, then, didn’t
I?”

“Hey, we’re neighbors. And friends, I
hope…or can be. I’m not the cops. I’m your back-up.” He wanted to touch her, but
he refused to get caught up in the peachy scent of her long, brown hair or the
flush and sparkle on her pale cheeks from the cold. He would not focus on how
goddamn pretty she was. “Thanks,” Kimber said softly. She backed up again and
Charlie felt his heart shrivel.

Damn. He had upset her. He was an ass.
All he could do was save a tiny bit of face. “No worries. You’re all set.” He
shut the window and moved past her, giving her a wide berth so he wouldn’t
upset her further. “I’ll get Clarice. She still needs to do her homework and
Janette will be here soon. Plus, little girl wants to redress the flamingo.”

“The flamingo?”

“On the lawn. Apparently there is a
Rudolph flamingo outfit that is to. Die. For.” He laughed feeling even more
like a turd.

“I’m sure it is,” Kimber said, but her
smile fled.

Charlie headed down the hall.
If
only you knew to keep your lips and hands to yourself, you clod…

* * * *

My partner wants to come back…I’m sorry
I even kissed you.

Kimber fixed two glasses of wine and
handed one to Sarah. “My wires are completely crossed. And so are yours! He
kissed me, then said his partner wants to come back. Then he says he regrets
that he ever kissed me.”

“He kissed you? Well, Christ! Don’t
just sit there, tell me how it was.” Sarah taped the long block of butchers
paper to the wall above the dining set.

Even with all the chaos, the silly
winter scene lightened her mood.

“It was hot. And irrelevant. I don’t
know why he even kissed me. Holy Christmas, am I mannish?” she squealed.

“Don’t be insane,” Sarah sighed. “You
are as far from mannish as a person can humanly get. And he’s not gay. I’m
telling you. I'll buy bi,” she said and snorted at her own word play. “But not
gay. So, go for it. He’s attracted. Maybe his ex won’t come back. Maybe he’ll
get past it. Maybe your feminine wiles and gorgeous face will win out over any
kind of hot steamy sex he’s had with another woman or man. Another big,
strapping, handsome man. I’m thinking with dark hair and big blue eyes and a
taut chest and rippling ab—”

“Hello! Please save your pornographic
guy on guy fantasies for later. Not that I’m not down with that,” Kimber
sighed, “but I’m still smarting from the whole
I’m sorry I even kissed you
thing.”

“Whatever. Listen, sister, I was
watching when he looked at you in his house—even here—and there was nothing
about that look that screamed gay. He might like Sam, Sam the Barber Man too,
or the guy who changes his tires, but he definitely liked you, Kimber, as well.
And does it matter, really? I thought you were off men?”

“I am,” Kimber said. But even she saw
through the lie.

* * * *

Snow had fallen hard through the
evening and by night that horrible sound had invaded her house…again. Kimber
had had no choice but to call Charlie. He’d rushed right over. It wasn’t her
fault he hadn’t put on a shirt, only bothering to toss on a gray, zipper
hoodie. He still wore dark navy and green plaid pajama bottoms like he’d
crawled out of bed. His boots squeaked across her hardwood floor when he
followed her in. The snow in his hair made him look like something ethereal. An
angel fallen from Heaven. Or possibly just fallen.

“I appreciate this so much. I really do.
I didn't know…I don’t trust myself to hang out a window. I’m a bit on the
skittish side. Okay, so not really skittish, more like clumsy.”

Charlie grinned. In that grin he
looked both wise and boyish. She felt her pulse in her throat as well as in her
pussy. Kimber pressed her knees together, trying to quell that urgent feeling
of arousal, the flexing only served to heighten it and she had to bite her
tongue to gain any focus at all.

“It’s fine. That’s what I’m here for.”

He touched her arm and the warm feel
of his hand on her skin made the rest of her body hum like a big engine.
“Thanks.”

She led the way up the stairs, aware
her ass in the hot-pink, penguin pajamas leveled with his gaze. The material
resembled long johns as opposed to billowy flannel pj’s. Kimber would be forced
to lie if you accused her of saying she’d chosen them on purpose. She’d say she
hadn’t, but she had.