librarian types.” Was she trying to talk him into this?
“I wouldn’t want to risk breaking your heart,” he teased.
“Get over yourself. I fall in love with likely prospects. And you’re the least likely prospect I know.”
“But I may have unplumbed depths.”
“That’s not the kind of plumbing I’m interested in, baby,” she said, affecting a sexy tone that came off stiffly.
“You’re trying too hard.”
She sighed. She hated that she wasn’t free and easy about sex.
“You always try too hard. That’s why I’m good for you. I help you ease up on yourself—and everybody else.”
“Well, you don’t try hard enough,” she argued. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d have—”
“Lost my job through tardiness alone, I know. We’re good for each other.” He saluted her with his ale.
“Yeah.”
“Just not sexually.”
“Right.” Another twinge of disappointment. “Besides, there’s no way I could do it,” she said. “Kissing you would be like, I don’t know, kissing…my brother.”
“You think so?” he said and then, with no warning whatsoever, he leaned forward and kissed her.
A jolt shot straight to her toes and back again, making everything in between tingle. Oh…my…God. She started to tremble and was afraid she might faint.
Ross broke off the kiss. “I know for a fact you don’t have a brother, but if you did, would he kiss like that?”
“I—I’m not sure.” Their eyes locked.
Then Ross smacked his lips. “Mmm, strawberry lip gloss.”
That killed the mood. To Ross, that had been just a kiss.
“Decent technique,” she said, covering for how overwhelmed she felt.
“Decent?” He lifted a brow. “Give me another chance. Maybe I was nervous.” He leaned in, beckoning with a crooked finger.
She shook her head. “You made your point.” Even as she said no, her entire body wailed for more. “The main thing is that we’re friends and we have to protect that. I’ll find some other unsuitable man to not fall in love with.”
He looked at her, his eyes full of wicked mischief. If anyone could teach her how to have fun with sex, Ross could.
Uh-uh. No matter what Ross said, sex made things complicated. Ross was her friend and that was better than sex any day—even sex with him. Besides, if one kiss could turn her into a quivery mass of need, just think what the whole experience would do. She might never be the same.
2
ROSS HAD ANOTHER black and tan after Kara left, but it didn’t wash away the strawberry kiss that had coated his mouth and lips with sweet promise. He tasted it all the way back to his apartment.
She’d actually quivered when he’d kissed her. Quivered. What responsiveness. Those crisp designer suits were wrapped around one sensuous woman.
He’d had thoughts about Kara when she’d first marched her serious little butt in the door at S&S, but she’d been so intent and dogged—and repressed—that he didn’t pursue her. Before long he’d gotten to know her and found her warm and open and funny and smart and they’d become friends. And friendship was a way bigger deal than sex.
He’d seen she was the type who put her heart on the line. And he’d never allow himself to hurt her. He couldn’t put pain in those eager, vulnerable eyes.
But Tina thought he could teach Kara how to separate lust from love…. Interesting. Could he? When he thought about that strawberry kiss, it seemed worth a try. On a purely physical level. Simple sex might be just what Kara needed. Could she keep it simple, though? Seemed unlikely. She was an intense woman. He, on the other hand, had simple sex down to a science.
Ever since college. Ever since Beth. That was when he’d learned it wasn’t a good idea to get attached. People changed. Or, more importantly, he changed. Beth had wanted someone stable and dependable. He’d tried to be that—taking the job her dad had lined up for him at a big graphics studio. But the work had been mere production—the replication of someone else’s creativity. He hated the daily routine, the repetitiveness, the tedium. He’d felt trapped. Then he’d started to get bored with Beth. He’d fought it, tried to hide it, but eventually all he saw was her anxious face, pale as pearlescent ink. What’s wrong, Ross? Is it me? What am I doing wrong?
It’s not you, it’s me. It’s me, really. A tired excuse, but, in his case, so true. He was a restless guy. He’d been young at the time and didn’t know himself well. Now he knew to stay away from women whose hearts he could break. Serious women looking for The One. Women like Kara.
His tongue found more strawberry at the roof of his mouth. Mmm. Some sack time with Kara would be amazing. She sounded like she was really interested in exploring sex with someone. Why couldn’t that someone be him? He knew her and cared about her. Some other guy might take advantage of her good nature. Could he make it safe for her? Show her how to keep sex in perspective? That was the only way it would work…if she could handle it.
He loped up the steps to his apartment, trying to remember whether or not he should avoid Lionel and Lucy, his landlords, who lived just below him. It wasn’t that he didn’t set aside the rent money, but he sometimes forgot when exactly it was due or where he’d hidden it so he wouldn’t spend it.
He’d paid, he remembered. Early, too, and thrown in a little extra for next month, since Lionel had been worrying about affording his daughter’s gymnastics day camp. Rental income tanked in the summer. Confident he was in his landlord’s good graces, Ross paused to wave through the window at Lucy.
He unlocked his door and took in the chaos with a grin. He could pick up a little, but he was more interested in working on that guitar riff he’d learned from a guy at a blues bar the night before.
Even as he tuned up, he found he was still thinking about Kara and that kiss. She’d pretended it had been nothing more than a peck, but there was fire there. Possibly total combustion.
She’d seemed certain she couldn’t fall in love with him. That was a good sign. And probably true. They were so different. She drove him nuts at work with her checklists and protocols. Of course, that was her job. Account execs stayed on top of the details, herded everyone and schmoozed the clients. The artist’s job was to be creative. At work, Kara and he were in perfect sync, but in a relationship there would be war.
He started with an easy chord progression. She’d looked so down about Scott. Why she picked those lame-asses he’d never know. He’d like to help her if he could—give her the confidence she needed to not lock on to the next corporate clone who caught on to how great she was.
She was always helping him, covering for him when he overslept, giving him pep talks when his mind seemed to have squeezed out its last creative juice. He liked to look after her, too—calm her down when she got herself wound too tight.
He moved into the licks the guitarist had shown him over one too many brewskis. If they set up some ground rules maybe… Ground rules? Lord, he sounded like Kara.
But she was going to do this, one way or the other. He recognized that determined Kara look. He couldn’t stand watching her get hurt by another jerk. And he knew what to watch out for with her…and if they had no expectations beyond the sex…they could have a damn fine time together.
The more he thought about it, the better it sounded. With ground rules in place, and good intentions all around, what was the worst that could happen?
“I CAN’T DO IT,” Kara said to Tina the minute Tina came into the office