Bit by the Bug (Matthews Sisters 1) (7 page)

‘Meg, honey, it’s Kat again,’ Kat said, twirling the cord, ‘Do you ever not work? I haven’t heard from you in weeks and I miss you. Anyway, I got a new job. You’d like it, Ella does. It’s creepy and the guy I work for is weird. Well, he’s cute in a weird way, but I’ll never admit to saying it out loud so don’t try to use it against me later. Or maybe it’s just that I think he would be cute if I could actually see his face. His build is nice. Well, anyway, never mind because it doesn’t matter. He is so not my type. Anyway, I miss you.’ Kat paused. ‘I said that already, huh. Well, I’m, ah, getting married. Call me.’ Then, as an afterthought, she added, ‘Don’t tell mom. Or dad. Or the sisters. Call me. Love you. Miss you. Bye.’

Kat hung up the phone and smiled. That would make her older sister talk to her. Then, looking at the clock she frowned. Zoe would be in bed because she got up before dawn, but Kat wondered if it was too late to call Sasha. Desperate for something to pass the time, she tried to ring her college-based sister. It turned out Sasha wasn’t in her dorm and after ten minutes’ chatting with her sister’s feminist roommate about being oppressed or some such thing, Kat told the woman goodbye and unwound herself and her chair from the cord.

Boredom set in and she regretted the late cappuccino she’d drunk at the apartment below hers. The woman who lived in it, Flora, was an elderly artist who loved company, but rarely had any. Kat had taken to stopping by to visit her, especially when she needed some caffeine.

She thought of her new boss, Vincent, and almost felt guilty about deceiving him. It wasn’t like she was hurting anyone and the man was so awkward she’d really be
doing him a favour. Frustrating thing was that he didn’t even seem to notice her.

Nine o’clock was going to come too early, but it didn’t matter. Picking up the phone, she dialled one last time. ‘Jack, hey it’s me. I’m back in town. Sorry I didn’t call you earlier, but you know how it goes. So, anyway, why don’t you come on over and see me?’

Vincent sat back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head before glancing at his wrist for the time. His watch was gone. Frowning, he glanced around. Did he put on his watch when he got up that morning? He honestly couldn’t remember. Had he even been home that morning or did he spend the night in the office again?

Was it late? It had to be late. He couldn’t tell because his laboratory didn’t have a window and the clock on the wall had run out of batteries months ago. Either way, it felt late. Glancing around his sterile laboratory, the pristine metal countertops, the state-of-the-art scientific equipment, he sighed. It was very different from the dusty tomblike atmosphere of the collections laboratory.

Thinking of it only made him contemplate his side project of milking spiders for venom. He glanced over to the glass cages now sitting on the countertop. Seeing them only reminded him of the fact that one of his spiders was dead and his venom production would be down, which led to other thoughts altogether.

Kat. That was her name, wasn’t it? Kat. Did he even get a last name? If he did, he couldn’t remember it.

What in the world had compelled him to hire her, aside from the fact that he’d been up for days on nothing but caffeine and sheer will? The woman had no experience, but that could be a good thing. She wouldn’t stand behind him, breathing down his neck as she asked question after annoying question about what he was doing, as if writing a college term paper from his answers. She
didn’t look the part of an assistant, not that he cared what she looked like so long as she came in and did her job. Though, she was strangely adorable with her choppy pink and dark-blonde hair and her round blue eyes.

Vincent frowned. Did he actually remember her eye colour? That wasn’t like him. Sure, ask him how to spell ‘papilionidae’ and he could do so without flinching. But ask him to name three people he’d talked to that day and he was at a loss. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, it was just he had so much on his mind – important things, scientific things, lifesaving things.

No, it didn’t matter that Kat was adorable or strange or that she had blue eyes. She seemed capable and self-assured and he needed someone who could catalogue the insect collection in an efficient way. Photos would be as good as anything else and the board would be impressed to have the specimens recorded somewhere other than in his laboratory drawers. There had been a photographic catalogue of them at one time, but the catalogue had been ruined and never replaced. And, if he didn’t get them catalogued again soon, the museum would be upset and they’d be less inclined to let him keep working unsupervised. The last thing he wanted was someone breathing down his neck, whether it was a student or a museum supervisor.

However, he couldn’t do the catalogue and continue to get his work done. If he didn’t finish a significant amount of research into the genetic make-up of mosquitoes, he wouldn’t be eligible for the grant money he needed to keep working. It wasn’t his fault the college had been sending him their most dim-witted students – kids who resented interning in such a quiet, unexciting field. At least they thought it unexciting. Vincent loved his work. He liked the quiet. He liked making a difference and being on the forefront of saving lives. Not to mention he loved problem solving.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he decided to spend
the night in his office. His vision was starting to blur due to exhaustion and he didn’t want to risk a miscalculation. One little mistake could set him back days. He’d learned that the hard way.

With a heavy sigh, he turned and left the laboratory. His feet shuffled as he made his way down the hall to his office. Closing his eyes before he even got there, his legs moved automatically over to the cot set up in the corner. He fell onto it, asleep seconds after his head hit the pillow.

Kat rested on her living room floor, staring at the ceiling, her arms spread out to the side, her legs parted and straight. The apartment was warm and she was over-heated even though she only wore a pair of boy-cut pants and a white ribbed tank top with no bra. However, she didn’t feel like moving to turn up the air conditioning.

‘I miss my television,’ she whined, though there was no one in the apartment to hear her complain. Groaning, she let loose a long sigh. She wasn’t in the mood to read and didn’t have any new books even if she was. There was always work, but she’d finished the last of the photographs she’d taken at the Rocky Mountains already. None of them were too impressive and she thought about selling them to a stock photography outlet for some extra cash. She’d sign away most of the rights, but she’d have spending money.

Hearing a key in a latch, she turned her head in the direction of her front door but didn’t bother to get up. Jack had a key to the apartment. Actually, a lot of people seemed to have keys: Jack, her sisters, her downstairs caffeine buddy. The neighbour especially came in handy since Kat was constantly locking herself out.

‘Kat?’ Jack’s soft voice reached her before he did. ‘Kat, you still awake? I need to talk to you.’

‘Mr Knight, what took you so long?’ she asked, watching
him enter the living room. He looked around, not seeing her on the floor. Kat studied him, waiting for his eyes to turn down. He had on the top she’d gotten him for Christmas, a blood-red cashmere sweater with aubergine raglan sleeves. It went well with the faded denim jeans and brown boots. Seeing his newly shorn locks, she frowned. ‘You cut your hair.’

His green eyes found hers and he gave her a lopsided grin, as he ran his fingers through the shortened hairdo. ‘Yeah, I had to. Military part.’

‘That’s not a crew cut,’ she said. His hair was longer on top, flopping down along his eyes and the back was cropped shorter. ‘Shouldn’t it be buzzed? You know, high and tight?’

‘European military, a couple of hundred years ago. I slick it back,’ he explained. ‘Want to hear my lines?’

Kat laughed. ‘Not really. Can they wait until opening night?’

Jack shrugged, crossing over to her. Hands on hips, he looked down at where she lay on the floor. ‘Just wham bam thank you ma’am, is it? Don’t you ever get tired of treating me like a piece of meat?’

‘Not really, sweet cheeks.’ Kat rolled onto her side, facing his feet. Running her fingers up his foot to the inside of his pant leg, she laughed. ‘Since when do you mind the fact that I use you for your body?’

He didn’t laugh as she expected him to.

‘Jack?’ Kat asked, letting go of him and rolling onto her back. ‘What is it?’

‘I was thinking . . .’

Kat waited, trying not to openly cringe. Jack got like this sometimes – contemplative of their relationship, of their decisions, of what society expected of them. And by society, she knew it was really his traditionalist parents who believed sex equalled love equalled marriage and babies. She just didn’t see that future when she looked at him.

Dr Vincent Richmond popped into her head. Now that was a man who’d most likely expect the traditional family dream out of life. Somehow thinking of the good scientist made her desire Jack less. Vincent presented a challenge and women always wanted what they couldn’t have. Still, she’d be lying if she didn’t admit that thoughts of Vincent in his sexy lab coat didn’t plague her all day. It was those churning desires that made her call Jack in the first place. If she couldn’t have the one she was fantasising over, she’d take what she could get.

What she could get? That didn’t seem too fair to Jack. Why was she feeling cruddy all of a sudden, like she was about to do something wrong? Sex was not wrong, no matter what the puritans tried to tell them. Then, why hesitate? Why now? And with Jack of all people?

‘. . . that we –’ Jack paused, looking uncomfortable as he shifted his weight back and forth. She blinked, drawn out of her thoughts back into his conversation.

Kat watched him, feeling a peculiar sense of emptiness inside her chest. Suddenly, Jack didn’t feel as comfortable as he had before she left for Colorado. She took a deep breath, trying not to be foolish as she ignored the sensation. Clearing his throat, Jack kneeled onto the floor next to her. Kat turned to watch him, staying on her back. She threaded her hands behind her head. ‘What’s up?’

‘Marry me.’ The words were earnest.

Kat choked, coughing in surprise. That was a new one. As soon as the shock wore off, she started laughing. ‘Oh my gawd, Jack, you jerk!’ She rolled up, slugging him lightly in the arm. ‘I thought you really had something important to say. Warn a girl before you do something like that.’

‘Sorry, had to ask at least once I guess.’ He gave her one of his famous lopsided grins.

At least once? There was a finality to the way he said it.

‘How’s it going, Princess Katarina?’

‘Better now that you are here, my prince. I’ve been bored.’ A strange feeling passed through her at Jack’s look. She didn’t wish to analyse it.

‘Pawned the TV again, didn’t you?’ He laughed, sitting down on the floor. Neither of them cared there was a couch nearby, or several chairs in the apartment they could’ve used.

‘Yeah, I needed chemicals.’

‘Don’t you always? You’re a darkroom chemical junkie.’

Kat grinned. ‘Stop bath and developers are better than drugs, and being in the darkroom is a natural high. I love watching an image appear. It’s the closest thing to magic in the modern age.’

‘Mmm, so that’s why we were smoking “the pot” at my apartment two weeks ago.’ Reaching for her, Jack trailed the tip of his finger down the slope of her nose, letting it skate off her flesh like a ski jump only to land on her chin. ‘The pot’ is what Kat’s mother called marijuana. It was a joke between the two of them. Playfully, she snapped her teeth after the digit. ‘You do know that your sister’s laptop over there probably plays DVDs, don’t you?’

‘Huh?’ Kat didn’t bother looking where he motioned. ‘Don’t own DVDs and Sasha threatened to kill me if I downloaded joke clips on it again. Something about viruses being attached to the video files.’

‘You are sadly behind the times, dear heart.’ Jack leaned over her, his mouth just a hair’s breadth away from hers. She smelled his fresh breath, knowing he’d squirted breath spray in his mouth before coming inside her apartment.

‘Yep, I’m a regular damsel in modern distress.’ She leaned up, closing some of the distance. ‘Just looking for my knight in shining armour to come and save me.’

‘Kat, God save the man who tries to rescue you.’ His
eyes narrowed and Kat wondered at his serious look. There was something going on with Jack. He was different than the last time she saw him, almost serious, or sad even.

‘Jack –?’ she began to ask, wondering if something had happened, but his kiss cut off her question. He thrust his tongue deep into her mouth in an instantly passionate embrace. The sudden shock of mint invaded her senses, a little warm but very pleasant. She pushed at him, her hands meeting the hard planes of his muscular chest. ‘Jack, wait. What’s –?’

‘Don’t talk,’ he said, his lips whispering along hers in a gentle caress. It was as if he was searching for something in the touch. The beat of his heart was steady against her palm. ‘Just kiss.’

Jack’s mouth closed over hers once more, cutting off any coherent words. His hands were on either side of her, holding up his weight. Closing her eyes, she ran her hands over his flexed biceps. He had always taken such good care of himself and she loved touching him. Kat often teased Zoe for reading romance novels, but the truth was Jack was as close to a living hero as there was likely ever to be – buff, sexy, confident, tanned. And he came with no strings.

Did she mention he was perfect?

Then why was she hesitating to continue? Kat felt the strongest urge to push him away. Again she ignored the sensation.

Kat tugged on his shirt, pulling it over his head, determined to prove to herself that she still wanted him. The room was already warm and his body only heated her more. There was something comforting in the familiarity of his touch. They knew each other and there was no awkwardness. Slowly, he trailed kisses along her throat, nipping at her flesh. Kat giggled, running her fingers up into his short hair. She explored the silky texture of his new haircut and decided she liked it.