Too Close to Resist Page 21

  He was talking with Kelly and a couple Grace didn’t know. He looked...relaxed, she decided. And then she realized despite the fact that he talked to those people, his eyes kept venturing back to her.

  “I think it’s pretty amazing. That you can effect that kind of change in someone. Impressive, really. Not everyone has that ability. In fact, I’d venture to say most people don’t.”

  Grace didn’t know what to say. On one hand, yes, Kyle had changed in the past few weeks. He’d opened up a little. She knew that had to do with her, even if she didn’t know how. Maybe it wasn’t so much her as it was someone simply seeing the man beneath his mask. Maybe anyone could have done it.

  Or maybe not. Maybe the commonality of violence in their pasts was what had broken down those walls and barriers. So maybe it was her.

  Not that she’d broken down all his walls. There were still things that caused him to shut down or back away. But she’d done more than anyone, including Jacob, in ten years.

  “There’s that smug lovey-dovey look,” Leah said, slapping her on the shoulder. “Oops, he’s coming over. I’ll make myself scarce.”

  “Leah, you don’t have to—”

  But she was already jumping off the couch, and in no time at all Kyle took her place. “Everything okay?”

  Grace nodded. “Just a little partied out. Maybe hungry. Everything has some weird soft cheese on it.”

  Instead of looking insulted or condescending, he pulled a granola bar out of an inner pocket of his suit jacket. “That’s why I carry these.”

  Of course, it was one of his healthy fruit-and-nut bars, but it was still better than stinky cheese and wine.

  “Gimme.” She snatched the bar and he laughed. Once she had a free hand, he took it in his. As she munched on his granola bar, he brushed his lips across her knuckles, an absent gesture of affection. It, along with Leah’s words, prompted a very strange realization.

  This was her life. Her real, adult life. It was a weird, out-of-body thing. Of course she knew this was her life, but she felt as if she was seeing it from the outside.

  It wasn’t what she’d planned or expected, but it wasn’t pathetic, either. In the past few weeks, she’d managed a lot of things she hadn’t since the whole Barry incident.

  She was dating. She was being more proactive in selling her paintings. She was living with fear. Not in spite of it, but actually with it. And still moving forward. There was no need to feel out of place. Even if she didn’t have a stacked bank account or a million fancy cocktail dresses, she had the things she’d worked her ass off for, and those things made up a life no one could take away from her.

  Grace leaned into Kyle. Maybe he wasn’t an open book. Yet. But she’d get there. They’d get there.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “WELL, IT WAS quite a party.”

  Kyle figured that was the highest of the highest praise from Mrs. Martin, or she was very, very drunk. Either way, she was leaving. Kyle smiled and waved as Mr. Martin ushered her out the door.

  Last guests gone, he turned to survey the damage. Not too terribly bad, but there was a lot of cleanup to do. He looked at Grace in her black dress and thought about how badly he didn’t want to do cleanup.

  “I have an idea,” Susan offered, kicking off her heels. “We leave the mess for tonight. Kelly and I will come back tomorrow morning, with doughnuts, and we’ll have a little cleanup party. I’m not sure I can face doing this right now.”

  “Sounds good,” Jacob replied.

  All eyes turned to Kyle.

  “What say you, boss? Can you handle a little mess for a few hours while we mere mortals sleep?”

  Kyle smiled. Since sleep these days included being in Grace’s bed, what once would have driven him crazy was barely a blip. “Sure.” He looked at the damage again. Okay, maybe more than a blip.

  Grace smiled at him as Susan, Kelly and Leah gathered their things and chattered out the door.

  He’d deal.

  “We could go ahead and clean up and call them in the morning and say not to bother coming over,” Jacob offered.

  Kyle opened his mouth, trying to formulate some excuse, but what would be the point? Whether they spent a few hours cleaning or not, he still wasn’t planning on sleeping alone tonight.

  “All right,” Grace agreed with a little sigh. “Let me go change into something a little more cleanup friendly.”

  Well, that was unfortunate. He’d worked up one or two fantasies about tonight and that dress.

  The security alarm beeped as someone entered the code, then Leah stumbled in, dripping wet. “My car won’t start,” she grumbled. “And it’s raining cats and dogs. Someone give me a ride home?”

  “Why can’t Susan and Kelly drive you?” Jacob was quick to say. A little too quick, but Kyle was trying not to notice Jacob and Leah’s weird vibe, hoping it would resolve itself without him having to step in.

  Leah glared at Jacob. “They’re already gone, moron. You think I wouldn’t have thought of that?” She grumbled something else under her breath.

  Jacob took a few odd steps away from Leah. “Just crash on the couch. Nothing you haven’t done before.”

  “I can’t stay. I’m dog sitting for my neighbor. She dropped him off at my place before she left this afternoon, but I promised I’d be home by eleven-thirty to let her out. Besides, I’m soaking wet and there’s no way I’m wearing this damn dress for another hour, let alone many.”

  Jacob looked back at Grace and Kyle, possibly hoping one of them would offer. Uh, yeah, no.

  “Fine, fine, fine. I’ll drive you home.” Jacob sighed, muttered something about a pain in the ass. Leah followed him to the door. After Jacob had exited, Leah turned and winked, her irritation melting into a smile. “Enjoy a little alone time, guys.” Quickly she closed the door.

  Kyle set the alarm, then turned to Grace surrounded by the debris of a party. It was hard to notice what would usually drive him nuts while she was wearing that dress. “I feel like perhaps I should clean up, but...”

  Her mouth curved into a smile. “Alone time is very rare.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “We should take advantage of it.”

  He nodded, still standing way too many feet away from her. “Yes. We should.”

  Grace sauntered across the room, smoothed a hand over his tie, then grasped it. “Come on, honey. I have plans for you before Jacob gets back.”

  Kyle gladly followed. “Plans?”

  “They involve lights and not shushing each other when we make too much noise.”

  “Very exciting plans.”

  Her laugh was low and husky. Since she was pulling him by the tie, he sped up his pace and then slid an arm around her abdomen so as they walked to the stairs her back was pressed to his front.

  Such a comforting feeling, to know she fit against him. To know she wanted to.

  She reached the staircase and turned to face him. Standing on the bottom step, she was just a hair taller than him. She rested her arms on his shoulders, took his mouth with hers.

  Kyle was sure he’d never tire of sinking into this kiss, of holding her against him. He trailed his hands down her sides, then her hips. When he reached the hem of her skirt, he tugged up, and her lips curved against his.

  Feeling unbelievably light and happy and right, he banded his hands under her butt and lifted. Not needing any instruction, she wrapped her legs around him so that he could essentially carry her up the stairs.

  She laughed breathlessly against his neck. “If we fall and break something, it’s going to be really embarrassing.”

  He dropped her onto her feet when they reached the top. Any laughing was over. Her mouth was hungry on his, her hands deftly removing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt.

  He slid his palms down
the curve of her back. She could leave her dress on for just a little bit. Backing her into her room, she tossed the tie aside, then pulled his shirt off him.

  And for the first time since they’d been together, the lights didn’t go off the minute the door was closed.

  Hallelujah.

  For a second, he let himself stand there and just look. The black hair and the black dress weren’t the image of Grace he would ever first conjure up. It was too dark and edgy, but it was still sexy as hell.

  She toed off her heels, then stood in front of him, her smile all self-satisfied. He brushed a strand of hair from her temple.

  “Did I tell you that you look absolutely beautiful tonight?”

  The self-satisfied smile grew. “You may have paid that compliment once or twice.”

  “It bears repeating.”

  “You know, I look pretty good without my dress on, too.”

  He chuckled. “I just bet you do.”

  She turned her back to him, tilting her head to the side so the blunt ends of her short haircut were out of the way. Slowly, enjoying this form of anticipation torture, Kyle pulled the zipper down.

  He traced the bare V of skin the zipper freed, down the smooth skin of her neck, over the strap of her bra, to the curve just above her butt. Still behind her, he kissed the base of her neck, pushing the fabric farther apart and a little off her shoulders.

  He trailed kisses down her spine, then back up, his hands roaming anywhere he could reach, smoothing, exploring.

  “God, I love that.”

  “Love what?” he murmured against her neck where he knew she was ticklish.

  She laughed, turned to face him, dropping the front of her dress and then wiggling out of it so she stood in front of him in simple black underwear.

  Simple black underwear on Grace was about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

  “All the little touchy, kissy stuff. You’re really good at it.”

  Her hands began to slowly, excruciatingly slowly, fiddle with his belt buckle. “Touchy, kissy stuff.”

  “Mmm-hmm. To be fair, you’re really good at everything, but you happened to be doing the touchy, kissy stuff at the time, so I thought I’d compliment you on that.”

  Kyle lowered his forehead to hers. “Can we please stop saying touchy kissy?”

  She laughed against his mouth, his belt dropping to the floor. Quickly followed by his pants. He stepped out of them as she led him to the bed.

  Much better.

  She flopped onto the bed, pulling him on top. Mouths and bodies fused. His hands roamed the soft, pale skin of her arms, her abdomen, her thighs. He nudged the bra straps off her shoulders with his chin, kissed along the top of her bra cups.

  She trailed her fingers across his body, exploring dips, tracing along angles and curves. He unsnapped her bra and pulled it off, planting kisses across creamy white breasts until he was as breathless as she was.

  She pushed at his boxers, taking the hard length of him in her hand. Kyle bit back a groan as she stroked.

  “Grace.”

  She released him and he almost whimpered, but got distracted when she pushed off her panties.

  “I know we should take our time and all, since it’s so rare to be alone. But, jeez, just hurry, okay? We’ll do slow and lazy some other time when we have to be quiet.”

  Kyle reached over and pulled open the nightstand drawer, but what usually held just a bottle of lotion, a flashlight and a box of condoms now had an extra, menacing addition.

  All good feelings ground to a screeching halt. “You...have a gun.” It was painted the same design as her tattoo, but it was a gun. Real and there and frightening.

  “Yeah.” He could feel her shift on the bed, some of the breathlessness leaving her voice. “Sorry, I don’t usually keep it there, but with the party going on I didn’t want it in my purse. I figured with the room locked, that was the safest place to put it. No one would be able to get to it except me.”

  He couldn’t stop staring at it. Frozen, vision tunneled so that it was hard to remember or take in anything besides the deadly weapon in her nightstand. All the fun and pleasure of just a few minutes ago sucked out of the room so quickly he was dizzy.

  Or maybe that was just the gun.

  “I’m not, like, a big gun person or anything. It just makes me feel safe, you know?”

  He tried to nod or agree or do anything other than freeze and stare and be transported back to a moment he relived so many times it was a wonder it still gripped him, completely and unrelenting.

  “Sorry. Does that bother you?”

  She touched his shoulder, and it helped dislodge some of the paralyzing fear and ice and sick emotion. “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “No, I mean no. Of course not. I’m sure you’re very responsible with it.” He shook his head to dislodge the image of a time long ago and a gun in his hand. The heavy feel of—

  “Kyle?”

  “What? No. I’m fine.”

  “You really don’t seem it. Do you want to go to your room?” Her fingers entwined with his. The smell of paint and perfume just barely infringing on the smell of booze and trailer.

  “No. I mean, it doesn’t matter. Whatever you want.”

  “Kyle.”

  Finger on the trigger, ready to pull and end it all.

  “Kyle, look at me.”

  It wasn’t easy to separate past and present. In fact, this was the hardest it had been in a long time. He managed to move his gaze to Grace. The dark brown of her eyes, the worry lines creasing her forehead, the faint color of red lipstick that had faded since the beginning of the evening.

  “Talk to me.” So earnest and caring.

  But he had promised himself to bury it. Bury the bad, the evil, and ignore the horror that lived inside him. It was the only way to have Grace.

  “I’m sorry. It took me off guard is all.” Kyle closed the drawer, willing his hands to be steady. “Everything is fine.”

  “Kyle, you didn’t get the condom.”

  Right. “Right.”

  She touched his arm before he could open the drawer again. Her face hovered in his vision, and he tried to focus on it and her and anything but his pounding heart and the sick feeling in his gut.

  “I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”

  She was in bed with him naked and he was losing it, that’s what was wrong. He swallowed down the sick fear, focused on control. It was a little rusty, but ten years of honing that kind of emotional disconnection was still there, just waiting to be used.

  “I’m sorry. Guns just make me nervous.” Which wasn’t a lie. They did. Nervous about what he might do with access to one if his dad showed up. Kyle forced his lips to curve upward. “Took me a little by surprise, but I’m fine now.”

  Her eyebrows drew together and she pulled her bottom lip through her teeth. “Do they bring up bad memories or—”

  He silenced her with a kiss. Nothing passionate, just a quick peck. “I’m okay. Really.” This time when he pushed his mouth into a smile, he willed himself to believe it. Everything was fine because Grace was here, and he wouldn’t jeopardize that with the whole ugly truth.

  “We can talk about—”

  “Let’s save talking for another time.” He willed himself to forget, to reengage in the moment. He smoothed a hand down her arm.

  She crawled into his lap, kissed him on the forehead, the nose, the mouth. “You can talk to me, you know,” she said earnestly, massaging at the tension in his shoulders. “About anything. Nothing will change the way I feel about you. Nothing that happened to you could do that.”

  Kyle nodded, even though he knew there was no way in hell he would ever talk to her about this. About then. It wasn’t to be talked about. It was to be buried and forgotten. That was
what had gotten him here, had gotten him her. Pretending those first eighteen years were nothing, and all he’d built since that was everything.

  Letting those two versions of himself out would change things, or he wouldn’t have had to bury the old version.

  She hugged him, and he rested his cheek on her shoulder. His body, his mind, his heart relaxed. This was it. That thing he needed to overwhelm the bad, to make it go away. Her and this and love. “I love you, Grace.”

  She stilled for a fraction of a second, then pulled back from the hug and touched his mouth with the tip of her index finger. She smiled, traced his bottom lip. “I love you, too.”

  Her lips touched his gently. Something soft and caring rather than meant to end in sex, but when the image of the gun popped back up in his mind, he squeezed his eyes shut and deepened the kiss.

  * * *

  GRACE LAY IN the dark, tracing the shadows and light in the room. Sleep had never come to her, even hours after Kyle’s breathing had slowed into restful sleep.

  Her mind kept turning over the moment he’d seen her gun. How pale he’d gotten, how unresponsive he’d been, like someone transported to another place.

  She’d offered comfort, and he’d taken it, but he’d never explained himself. Never opened up. And, as she’d lain in the dark, every other instance where he’d clammed up popped into her mind.

  It was a switch; anytime she asked him about the past, she’d always known that. He’d always been that way. So it wasn’t so much a surprise as a disappointment.

  Because he’d said he loved her just moments after shutting her out of part of himself. Grace didn’t know how to handle that, to process it.

  The relationship was new, yes, but the feelings were real and deep. Still, she hadn’t spilled her guts over everything in her life. A lot, but not everything.

  Maybe he just needed time to warm up to the idea of sharing. If even his oldest friend didn’t know everything that had happened to Kyle, why should she expect a few weeks and love to make him spill all his guts to her?