Malcolm waited until Sunday afternoon to seek out Keira. Since the outburst the previous night, she’d kept to her room. Carmen had said she’d been down early for breakfast, but then had retreated upstairs. Malcolm wasn’t sure if she needed the alone time or if she was scared to face the rest of the family.
A little after three he knocked on her door. There was a second of silence before he heard the soft, “Come in.”
He found Keira on the floor by her bed. There were no books around, no TV on, no music playing. Just her, Lizzy and a feather cat toy.
When Keira looked up at him, he saw shadows under her eyes. She was pale and her mouth trembled. He had no idea what she was thinking or feeling, but her sadness and remorse were so clearly visible, he couldn’t think of anything to say and he had no idea what to do.
He was incredibly bad at this, he thought grimly. And the last man on the planet who should ever have a family. He swore silently before telling himself any action was better than simply standing and staring at her.
He dropped next to her on the rug and put his arm around her. Keira startled him by throwing herself at him and bursting into tears.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, hanging on with more strength than he would have imagined. “I’m sorry.”
“Shh. There’s nothing to be sorry about.”
He picked her up and set her on his lap, then eased her head onto his shoulder. She hung on as if she would never let go and he did the same. After a few minutes, when the tears had lessened and her breathing was more normal, he freed one hand and stroked her head.
“It’s our fault,” he told her. “We should have thought about the day more. A party like that is a big deal and it takes a lot of emotional energy. You’re still finding your way around here. We should have moved the family dinner to tonight, giving you a chance to recharge. It’s not you, Keira. Even good things can be too much.”
“Callie said that, too,” Keira admitted with a sniff. “She apologized, just like you.”
The tears began again and he had no idea why. He wished Callie was here instead of him. He wished his mother had lived longer because she was the best person he’d ever known. He wished his father hadn’t been such an asshole because that would have helped. His father who had never once bothered to even sit down and talk to his own son.
“I’m really bad at this,” he admitted. “I’m sorry about that, too.”
She raised her head and sniffed. “You mean being a brother?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not bad at it. Just, you know, inexperienced.” She shifted off his lap onto the floor and brushed the tears from her face. “You should practice more.”
“Yes, I should.” He leaned toward her. “Keira, I don’t want you to be scared anymore. I want you to be happy and feel safe and excited about your life.”
She glanced down, then back at him. “I do sometimes. Not feel scared, I mean. And the other stuff. I’m getting better.”
“You don’t need to get better. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“But I’m in therapy.”
“So you have someone to talk to who is safe for you. So you can learn coping skills you might have missed out on because of all you’ve been through.” He struggled to find the right analogy. “It’s like painting a couple of walls in the house rather than tearing the whole thing down and starting over.”
She tilted her head. “Am I the paint or the wall or the house?”
“You’re the house and the therapy is the paint and okay, maybe it wasn’t the best way to explain what I meant, but I hope you—”
She flung herself at him again. He held on to her because he didn’t have anything else. Hopefully it was enough.
When she released him and sat back down, she drew in a breath.
“I really am sorry about yesterday. The sleeping bag was a really nice idea.”
“I’m glad you’re okay with it. Do you want to try the family dinner again? There are more presents to open and I’m sure Carmen would be happy to fix something special for dinner. All the while telling me that she could have done that in the first place, but no, I had to go hire a caterer and if that ever happens again, she is going to be very angry with me.”
Keira giggled. “She would probably slap you.”
“She’d try and I’d have to let her, which I would not like. So do-over?”
She nodded. “Yes, please.” Her expression shifted from happy to stricken. “Did you guys eat my cake?”
“No one touched your cake. It’s still there, in all its glory.”
“Whew, because that would have been horrible.” She scrambled to her feet. “Come on, Malcolm. We have to go tell everybody there’s going to be a party tonight!”
* * *
Delaney spent the next week avoiding both her life and the people in it. She went through the motions, showing up to her job, going to class, texting with Malcolm. She’d put him off for a couple of days only to realize she missed him desperately. She’d invited him over for basically a booty call and he’d obliged with great enthusiasm. What was there not to like? But by the weekend, she’d figured out that avoiding wasn’t going to fix the problem. Not that she’d defined the problem exactly but it was on her to-do list, right there at the top.
At eleven on Saturday morning, Callie arrived for their shopping adventure. She’d begged for help finding a dress for the upcoming charity gala.
“I come bearing addresses of consignment stores,” Callie said as she walked into the condo. “I am not paying retail for a dress I’m going to wear once in my life.”
Callie’s natural energy and upbeat personality lifted Delaney’s spirits. She laughed for the first time in what felt like ages.
“You do realize that you’re kind of an heiress, right?”
Callie rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I work on a factory line pouring tablespoons of secret spice mix into plastic bags, then sealing them.”
“You’re the one who wanted to work.”
“I know and it was the right decision. I would go crazy cooped up in that big house. I need to be out doing something.” She studied Delaney. “How are you feeling? Malcolm said you caught a bug.”
Which was what she’d told him when he’d asked about her spending so many evenings at home, Delaney thought, ignoring the guilt. She hadn’t been sick from anything but trying to figure out her life. Going to work and to class had taken every ounce of energy she had.
“I’m getting my strength back,” she lied. “Okay, the gala. Let me show you what kind of dress we’re going to be looking for, then we will start our consignment store bonanza.”
She led the way into the bedroom and walked to the larger of the two closets. As she reached for the door handle, she mentally braced herself to step into her former existence. She flipped on the light and took a breath, then allowed herself to breathe in the happy sight of suits and shells and dresses and dozens of shoes.
“Holy crap.” Callie stared at the neatly arranged racks. “What is all this? You have a secret life I knew nothing about.”
“I used to be in corporate finance.”
“Like Santiago?” Callie groaned. “Everyone I know is so smart and successful. I know it should be inspiring, but it’s a little intimidating.”
“I work part-time as a barista and I’m taking two classes at college. I’m hardly an inspiration to anyone.”
“You’re wrong. You wanted to change your life and you did. That’s amazing.”
It was less amazing when you knew that she wasn’t sure she’d made the right decision, Delaney thought glumly.
“Dress,” she said pointedly. “Let’s look at those to give you some ideas. Although honestly all you have to do is flash a little something-something and you’ll do fine.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’d offer to let you borrow one of mine, but you’re what, twenty pounds lighter, two inches shorter and yet you have bigger boobs. Why do I like you?”
Callie laughed. “Well, when you put it like that, I have to feel special.”
Delaney walked over to the dress section of the closet. “Okay, here’s one of my favorites. I wore this two years ago to the Seattle Humane Society’s Tuxes and Tails event.” She held up the St. John velvet cold shoulder gown.
Callie touched the fabric, then studied how the straps would drape across the upper arm. “That’s really lovely. So a long dress?”
“You’ll see all lengths, but most will be long. The guys have it easy. They only have to wear a tux.”
She got out a second dress that still had its tags. Deep green sequins covered the knit column style. The V-neck was flattering and the straps were wide enough that she could easily wear a regular bra.
“Oh, that’s beautiful,” Callie breathed. “Have you ever worn it before?”
Delaney waved the tags. “Not even once. I need like five kinds of shapewear to make it work, but maybe I’ll try it for the gala.”
“You should. With your red hair and green eyes, you’ll be stunning. Seriously. Okay—I sort of have an idea of what I’ll be looking for. I really appreciate you going with me. I would be nervous on my own. I’m still nervous about the whole evening, but I figure it will be a good life experience for me.”
“Don’t be nervous. You’ll do fine. Malcolm and I are at the same table and you’ll be with Santiago.”
Callie looked away. “Yes, that will be great.”
Delaney’s radar went on alert. “What’s wrong? Are you two fighting?”
“No! It’s fine. Everything is...” Callie put her hands on her hips. “Actually it’s not. I can’t figure him out. He acts like he’s crazy about me.”
“How is that bad?”
“It’s not. It’s wonderful except he won’t, I mean we haven’t...” She closed her eyes, then opened them. “We kiss. That’s it. Kissing. He doesn’t even try to take things further and I don’t get it. From everything he’s told me he was a total skank with women, so why not me?”
Delaney did her best to look serious even as she desperately wanted to laugh. “You’re mad because you’re not getting any?”
“It’s been nearly a decade. I think I’ve earned the right to be moody.”
“Oh, right. Good point. So ask him. Or rip off your shirt. Either way, he’ll figure it out.”
Callie sighed. “I’m not really the rip-my-shirt-off type. I guess I’ll have to talk to him and that totally sucks.” She brightened. “Maybe I can find a really slutty dress that will make me impossible to resist.”
“You absolutely will be.”
They drove to the first consignment store. Delaney scanned the layout, then headed directly to the back where the evening gowns were.
“Don’t worry about length,” she said as she began to flip through the dresses. “I know a great tailor who can work miracles in very little time.”
She checked sizes and pulled out several dresses, studying them before handing some to Callie and putting the others back. Ten minutes later, she ushered Callie into the dressing room with firm instructions to come out in every one.
“You’re not the decision-maker here,” Delaney informed her. “I’m the expert.”
“You’re kind of bossy.”
“Tell me about it.”
While Callie changed into the first dress, Delaney wandered the store. She was having fun, she thought in surprise. Her dark mood had lifted. Maybe she should have gotten out of the house sooner. She still didn’t have answers to her questions, but for now, that was okay.
Callie came out in a fairly traditional strapless black dress that hugged every curve.
“I feel like the top is going to fall down,” Callie said, tugging at the bodice. “I’d need a strapless bra, I guess. I don’t know.”
Delaney eyed her critically. “It’s okay, but not special. Next.”
“You’re just like Keira,” Callie told her. “You should have seen her when we went shopping. She made her decision in about two seconds and what I thought didn’t matter.”
Delaney grinned. “I knew I liked that girl.”
Callie tried on every dress Delaney had picked for her. There were a couple of maybes but not the one. They went to the second store and repeated the process. On the third dress, Delaney smiled at her friend.
“That’s it.”
The “it” was a strapless gown that was fitted to midthigh before flaring out slightly. The wrapped fabric hugged every curve, but the effect was softened by an overlay of mesh dotted with black flower petals. The fit was perfect and with the right shoes, the hem only had to come up a couple of inches.
Delaney circled her. “You’ll need a great strapless bra. I have the name of someone in the lingerie department at Nordstrom. She’ll get you fitted.”
Callie looked at herself in the mirror. “It’s not very sexy. I mean it’s not low cut or anything.”
“Trust me,” Delaney told her. “You are stunning. How do you feel?”
“I don’t know. It’s not really me.”
Delaney had a feeling Callie wouldn’t be comfortable in any fancy dress. Given what she knew about her friend’s past, she doubted Callie had ever worn one before.
Callie looked at the tag and yelped. “Oh my God! This dress is six hundred dollars. That’s used.”
Delaney grinned. “Honey, it’s a Carmen Marc Valvo couture gown. It would have cost over three thousand new.”
“For a dress? One dress?”
“You want to look the part.”
“But for that I could go to a department store and buy something new.” She looked at herself in the mirror. “It is really pretty.”
“It is.”
“But six hundred dollars.”
“Are you going to faint? Do you need to breathe into a paper bag?”
“Very funny. All right. I’ll take it. But don’t tell anyone how much I spent.”
“I cross my heart.”
Callie smiled at her. “Thank you, Delaney. You’re so sweet to me. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re easy to be friends with.”
Callie returned to the dressing room. Delaney looked out the window as she waited and thought about the other friends she’d had—the ones she’d let slip away. She was still trying to figure out why. Guilt, maybe? Her payment for having what she wanted? She wasn’t sure if she had a clue, but what she did know was that she was desperately unhappy with how things were and she wanted to change. As it was her life, it was all up to her. But how, and more importantly, did she actually have the courage and strength to do it?
* * *
Santiago didn’t like being nervous—it was an unfamiliar state of being and one he didn’t generally permit. But as he rode the elevator up to his place, Callie at his side, he had to admit, there was general unease going on.
It was her, he admitted if only to himself. Being around her always made him happy and he wanted things to work out. Maybe a little too much, which meant worrying they wouldn’t, which created a crazy cycle of wanting desperately to be with her, then being nervous when he was. Life had been a lot easier when he’d cared less about the women he was with. But this was a whole new ball game. This was Callie.
She laughed as the doors opened on his floor. “I think that’s the longest elevator ride I’ve ever taken.”
“We should go to the Space Needle. You take an elevator up to the observation deck where, if the weather’s good, you can see forever. This was only thirty-eight stories or about four hundred feet. The observation deck is at five hundred and twenty feet.”
“You are filled with unexpected information, aren’t you?”
“It’s a gift.”
He led the way to his front door, then opened it and let her go first.
He’d tidied up before he left. The cleaning service had been by that week, so every surface gleamed. He’d already prepped dinner. Appetizers were ready to go into the oven, the salad only needed dressing and his mother’s famous potato casserole would bake after he pulled the appetizers out. He was going to panfry the salmon, something he’d done dozens of times. It was an easy entrée he often made for himself and he hoped Callie would like it.
He waited in the foyer as she explored the condo’s open floor plan. The unit was on the corner, so he had a 180-degree view of Puget Sound. There was a beautiful sunset on the horizon, ferryboats heading to and from the dock, and a massive container ship heading out to sea. He couldn’t have asked for a more perfect moment.
Callie looked around the big living room with its leather sectional and matching club chairs. The tables were all glass and chrome, the art bold, colorful abstracts. He’d left the integrated sound system on and jazz played in the background.
An area in the corner was raised slightly. He’d put the dining room table there. It, too, was glass and chrome. He’d used pale linens, bought fresh flowers for the table and had set a high-end chardonnay on ice. He’d done his best to impress at every turn yet couldn’t shake the feeling he’d somehow done it all wrong.
“You hate it,” he said as Callie crossed to the window to study the view.
“What? No. I’m overwhelmed. Your place is beautiful. Very modern with clean lines. The view is incredible.” She smiled. “Did you order the sunset just for me?”
“I did.”
“Must be nice to have that much power. I’m not sure I could handle the responsibility.”
He chuckled. “You get used to it.”
He crossed to her and stood behind her, his arms around her waist. She leaned back against him.
They touched from chest to thigh, but it was the middle part that got his attention. Her ass nestled right up against his dick and he liked it. A lot.
No, he told himself firmly. No way. He was not going there with Callie—not for a while yet. He wanted them to get to know each other better. He wanted things solid and for their time together to be special. Sex was easy—it was relationships that were a bitch.
“How long have you lived here?” she asked.
“A couple of years.”
“You bought the houses for your mom and your brother and his family first, didn’t you?”
“Why would you ask that?”
She turned in his arms and smiled up at him. “Because you have a hero complex. Not in a bad way, I don’t think. More that you have to take care of everyone around you. So family first.”
He thought she might be complimenting him, but he wasn’t sure. A lot of women he’d dated had complained about how much he was there for his family.
“Two houses on an oversize lot don’t come on the market very often. When I saw those, it made sense to buy them first.”
She put her hands on his chest. Heat burned down to his groin. He had to use all of his considerable willpower to keep himself from reacting physically to her touch.
“Uh-huh.” She raised herself on tiptoe and lightly kissed his mouth. “You’re a softy.”
“I’m not sure I like that. Can’t I have a superhero name?”
“King Softy? Super Softy?”
He winced. “We’re moving in the wrong direction.” As his control snapped and blood rushed to his groin, he took a step back so she wouldn’t feel his sudden erection. He needed distance and a distraction.
“I have appetizers. Let’s get them in the oven.”
“Let’s.”
They went into the kitchen. Callie prowled around, checking out the various stainless steel appliances and reading labels in his small wine cellar.
“It’s like something out of a magazine,” she said as she slid onto one of the stools at the island. “I didn’t know people really lived like this.” She smiled at him. “I say that very aware of the irony. I mean, look where I live.”
“It’s a family home.”
“It’s the size of an airplane hangar. Still, there’s a warmth there. And the yard is huge.”
“It would be a great place to raise kids.”
Her eyes widened. “I never thought of that, but sure.”
He slid the cookie sheet into the oven and set the timer, then collected ingredients for martinis.
“Vodka okay?” he asked.
“Um, sure.”
There was something in her tone that alerted him to a problem. “You don’t like martinis? I can make something else. What would make you happy?”
She flushed as her gaze slipped from his. She seemed to collect herself after a second. Her shoulders squared and her chin went up.
“I’ve never had a martini,” she admitted. “I don’t know if I like them or not.”
He swore silently. He was an ass. Of course she hadn’t—when would she have had the chance? She’d gone to prison when she’d been eighteen and got out three years ago. Since then she’d been scrambling to keep her head above water. There hadn’t been extra money for things like martinis.
He walked around the island, spun the stool until she was facing him, then cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. He moved deliberately, brushing her mouth with his before running his tongue along her bottom lip. She parted insistently, inviting him to the party. Her hands settled on his waist.
He gave himself a full twenty seconds to enjoy the lushness of her mouth before carefully, deliberately releasing her. His dick throbbed like a son of a bitch. Relief would have to wait, he told himself. Until he was alone.
“Your past made you what you are today,” he told her. “I’m more and more impressed every time I’m with you. I do forget that there must be a lot of things that are new to you. I hope you know I’m not put off by that. In fact, I want to share as much as I can with you.”
Her eyes got big and her mouth trembled slightly. “Will it be shaken or stirred?” she asked.
He grinned and walked around to continue making the drinks. “True aficionados will tell you shaking the martini bruises it and it is always preferable to stir the liquor in the ice.”
“And you?”
“No pain, no gain.”
She laughed, then leaned forward to watch what he did.
“How are the driving lessons going?” he asked.
“Really well. I’m getting more confident. I’ll be taking my test soon. I just need a few more hours of practice.”
“I’d be happy to take you out.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening. I know what you drive. Your Escalade is the size of a building and the little convertible costs as much as a building. I’m okay with my small, sensible training car.”
“You seem a little obsessed with buildings.”
“Maybe it’s because of the one I’m in.”
He finished shaking the drinks and filled two glasses, then handed her one. “Tell me what you think.”
She took a sip. “Oh, it’s not what I thought. It’s really clean and a lot of liquor.”
“We’ll just have one.”
“I like it.” She raised her glass. “This is good practice for when we go to the gala. I don’t want to be obviously out of place.”
“Why would you be?”
“I’m a small-town girl from Oklahoma. Events like these aren’t part of my regular routine.”
He was pleased she’d talked about herself in that way rather than defining herself by her incarceration. She was so much more than the mistake she’d made.
“Now if it were a potluck on the line at work, I’d be one of the gang,” she said with a smile.
“Still liking your job?”
“Yes.” She hesitated. “I’ve made my decision.”
“About?”
“Going to college. Malcolm’s helping me with the application. I hope I get into the University of Washington. It’s a great school.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes. “I could wear a Huskies jersey for you sometime.”
He didn’t think she was trying to be provocative, but her teasing words hit him hard, all the same. A jersey and nothing else, he thought, trying to keep his breathing even.
“I’ll stay where I am at the company until I start school, but if I get in, I’m going to go full-time.”
“Smart and beautiful. How’d I get so lucky?”
“I think you always get lucky. This is not a unique experience, but thank you for the compliment.”
They went into the living room. He set their glasses on the coffee table, sat down and pulled her onto his lap. She snuggled into him, cuddling close before raising her mouth to his.
Just five minutes, he told himself. He could stand it for five minutes and then he was going to stop.
Everything went according to plan right up until Callie unexpectedly shifted so she was straddling him. The heat from her center enveloped his erection, making it tough to breathe. Or not start ripping off clothing. Or bury himself so deep he would never find his way back.
“What’s with the kissing?” she asked.
“What do you mean? Don’t you like it?”
“I like it fine. I like it a lot. But that’s all we do.” Her gaze was pointed. “Kiss. There’s plenty more we could be doing. You seem to like me and find me attractive, so what’s the problem?”
She was so damned direct—how was he supposed to resist her? Still, he had to. Their future depended on it.
He carefully moved her onto the sofa, then stood and put some distance between them. He’d thought they might have to have this conversation but he’d never imagined she would be the one insisting they talk about it.
He cleared his throat. “There have been a lot of women in my past,” he began.
“Yes, I know. You keep rubbing that in.”
“I’m not rubbing it in. I’m trying to be honest.”
“I honestly wish you’d stop talking and have your way with me.” She stood and put her hands on her hips. “What? What? Is there a medical condition? Do you secretly play for the other team? What is it?”
“I want it to be special.”
She snorted. “What does that mean? Are we waiting for an eclipse?”
“No, although that would be really cool.” He tried to figure out how to articulate what he was feeling. “You’re the princess,” he finally admitted. “You need to be won.”
She muttered something that sounded a lot like, “What I need is to get laid.” She glared at him. “A princess? Are you serious?”
“Totally.”
“And you want to win me?”
“Yes.” He held his hands out, palms up. “Callie, there have been a lot of—”
Her gaze narrowed.
“I mean, I’ve had plenty of short-term relationships in my time. This is different. You’re different. I want to do the right thing.” He lowered his voice. “You have no idea how much I want you, but not before we know each other better. When it’s right. When I’ve won you.”
“For real?”
“I swear on my mother’s beating heart.”
“That’s a serious swear.”
“I’m a serious guy. You okay?”
She nodded.
“Are we okay?”
Instead of answering, she walked toward him. He pulled her close and held on. He was going to make this work, he promised himself. He had to—she was the one.