Falling For Ken (Blueprint to Love Book 2) (4 page)

"I'm your worst nightmare, Sugar. Remember me?" He frowned when she chuckled. Was he having a nightmare?

"I'm Ken, remember?"

She began washing his chest and shoulders. When she finished with the front, she tugged him forward to rest against her chest. The warm hollow of her throat beckoned him closer, her soft, sweet scent tantalizing his nose. If she smelled this good, she probably tasted even better. Harry heard her gasp when his lips wandered over a sensitive spot. Her skin was unbelievably soft.

"W-what are you doing?"

"You taste good."

"I– um . . . well thanks, I guess."

He sighed appreciatively when she began to wash his back. "You smell nice, too." The sensation of the warm, wet washcloth felt impossibly good against his skin. His eyes fluttered open when warm water sluiced over his head and her fingers scrubbed gently over his scalp. "That feels incr– increbable." Harry grinned, despite a twinge of pain. "Is that a word?"

Frowning when he remembered her name, he blinked, but there were three of her when he opened his eyes. She was dressed in a flowing white gown, her feet bare. Her long hair was dark and wet against her back, her kaleidoscope eyes a mysterious golden color.

"Ken's a boy's name." She patted him dry and pushed him gently back against the pillows. He sighed with pleasure, floating on a cushiony cloud with a golden-eyed angel tending his every need.

“Can't put one over on you, Harry.”

Her soft, husky laughter skimmed his nerves, leaving a warm tingle behind. When she drifted away he experienced a jab of disappointment. Then he felt her hands on his foot and heard the soft clunk when his shoe fell to the floor. When she unzipped his pants, he waited patiently.

"Oh, dang."

Cloud girl was pissed. Harry forced himself to concentrate. "What-?"

"I forgot about your ankle cast. I'll have to cut your pants off."

His thoughts drifted to making love on a cloud. With an angel. "Okay."

"Damn, these look expensive. Why couldn't you wear jeans to the site?"

"Who's Jean?"

A few minutes later– or maybe it was days—cool air rushed against his legs. Her touch was so gentle he had a hard time finding her. First on his left, she reappeared on his right, like a firefly adrift on a hot summer night. Reaching for her, he came away empty-handed.

"Angel? You still here?" Her hands paused on his calf where warm, soapy water trickled down his leg. When she swiped it with a towel, he sighed.

"That's as far as the sponge bath goes, Traynor. I'm afraid my delicate sensibilities can't handle much more of your chiseled bod. You must live at the gym."

When the cool, crisp sheets brushed against his skin, he groaned. A blanket followed before the lamp snapped off.

"Goodnight, Harrison."

"I live on Parker Street." The soft, musical laughter washed over him again. Harry felt her breath against his cheek and instinctively turned to find her.

"Don't leave." The fear was instinctive. If this was a dream, he didn't want it to end.

"Go to sleep, Harry" she whispered. Floating across the room, her soft footsteps faded in the night. It finally dawned on him he hadn't seen any wings.

***

He was naked. In a woman's bed. With the worst hangover of his life. Harry turned to the opposite pillow, relieved to discover it empty. A quick check under the sheet confirmed he still had briefs.

One-night stands weren't usually his style. Neither was drinking too much. So, where the hell was he? Shifting on the pillow, he groaned.
Holy hell
. Pain crashed in on him, his head clanging as though caught between two cymbals. And he remembered the fall.

"This is Ken's house."

Sitting up slowly, he wished he hadn't. Clenching his teeth prevented a moan of sheer agony from breaking free. Drawing a sharp-edged breath, Harry released it gradually, waiting for the shockwaves to subside. His body had become a symphony of throbbing pain that began with his skull and rippled over him, ending at his feet. Staring at the lump under the floral comforter, he remembered he'd broken his ankle. The other lump on the bed moved when he shifted. It made a sound mimicking disdain and stretched.

"Who the hell are you?"

The cat yawned, then stared at him. With one eye. The other eye appeared scrunched shut. She– and it could only be a she, Harry surmised, lost interest in him, leaping gracefully from the bed. Crossing the room, she disappeared, weaving through patches of filtered sunlight in the shadowed hallway beyond the door.

Holding his breath, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. His cane was hooked on the bedside table. Drawing a ragged breath, he made a grab for it. Damned if it didn't hurt to breathe. His ribs were as battered as the rest of him. Leaning heavily on the cane, he hobbled to the adjoining bathroom, each step more painful than the previous one.

Ten minutes later, he dragged himself back to the bed, his heart tripping from the effort. The simple task had exhausted him. After mopping perspiration from his forehead, he collapsed against the pillows. He'd barely had the strength to brush his teeth with the new toothbrush she'd left by the sink.

"Are you decent?"

Kendall Adams.
Please, God . . . no
. Harry groaned at the sound of her voice. He was trapped in a nightmare of pain. Why the hell couldn't it be with someone nurturing? With a woman who was– like a woman? Someone who didn't start an argument with every sentence? Someone whose voice didn't scrape over him like nails on a chalkboard.

She poked her head around the doorframe. "How're you feeling?"

"My head is about to detach from my body and after ten minutes of exertion, I'm ready for bed again." He frowned when she approached with a tray.

"You shouldn't get out of bed without help."

"I didn't think you'd be terribly interested in assisting me in the bathroom."

"The doctor said-"

"I don't give a damn," he interrupted. "Despite your attempt to kill me yesterday, I'm still able to manage my bodily functions." He had only the slightest twinge of conscience when Kendall's cheeks bloomed pink with embarrassment. But, damned if her eyes didn't nail him to the wall. Like a mirror to her thoughts, they widened with shock before the sparking, gold flecks dimmed, extinguished by the guilt she so readily assumed. Her anguish lanced through him. As quickly as he'd spoken the frustration-laden words, Harry wished he could retract them.

"I didn't mean that." Gazing at the ceiling, he sighed. "There isn't a spot on me that doesn't hurt. But I shouldn't take it out on you."

"You've been through hell. I'm sure the pain is terrible." Shrugging off his bad temper, Ken set the tray on the nightstand.

"I'm not the greatest morning person either." Harry was relieved when she laughed, the sparkle returning to unusual topaz eyes. Just like that, he'd been forgiven.

"That's not much comfort, Traynor."

"Why not?"

"You already slept through the morning. You've been out fourteen hours." She flicked a glance at her watch. "It's lunchtime."

It was his turn to show surprise. How could he have slept away half a day? Hazy memories floated before his eyes. "Did you feed me applesauce?"

"And some broth," she confirmed. "I was worried you'd get sick from all those meds on an empty stomach."

Sniffing the food appreciatively, Harry's stomach rumbled in response. "I may be ready for real food."

"Let's get you propped up and we'll go to work."

The mattress shifted when she sat down next to him and again when the cat bounded back up on the bed.

"Wink, you troll. Your food's downstairs."

"You call her Wink?"

She smiled. "Doesn't she look like she's winking at you?"

"How'd she lose her eye?" Before he realized it, Ken spooned beef stew into his mouth. He chewed. He swallowed. Chewed again. Until the bowl was nearly empty. Then sipped gratefully from the iced tea she raised to his lips, nearly draining the glass.

"I'm not sure. I found her at the shelter." Breaking a piece of bread, she popped it in his mouth. "She looked like she needed me, so I brought her home."

He digested the morsel of information along with an incredibly buttery roll. "You don't seem like the type to pick up strays."

"They sure seem to find me." She gave him an appraising glance. "Let me guess . . . you had me pegged for a trailer park, fridge on the porch and an old Chevy rusting in the yard, right?" Laughing at her own joke, she picked up the stew again, intent on feeding him another spoonful. A strange contentment washed over him when she chuckled. Why was the sound so familiar?

"Did you make this?"

"I make a big pot of something every few days. Then I don't have to cook every night. I grow the vegetables out back."

"And the bread? It's really good."

"When I have trouble sleeping, I bake." Kendall paused, cocking her head to acknowledge a sound on the stairs that reminded him of a bouncing ball. Thump . . . thump.

"What's that noise?" Harry raised his gaze to hers, surprised by how her eyes seemed to glow in the dimly lit room.

Ken picked up a section of orange and popped it in his mouth. "That's Lurch. He's been going crazy downstairs wondering what he's missing. Sounds like he's decided to pay a visit."

He chewed thoughtfully, his gaze following Ken when she turned toward the door. Her hair wasn't limp and straggly like he remembered. It was long and wavy. Really long. She had it pulled back in a ponytail, but several chocolate strands escaped, curling into her collar. Her slender throat appeared lost in the too-large work shirt.

"C'mon, Lurch. You're almost here." Turning back, she caught him staring, but Ken seemed oblivious to his perusal. "You ready for another piece?" Not waiting for his reply, she shoved another orange slice between his teeth. The sweet, tart juice trickled down his throat.

The head of a shaggy white dog appeared around the doorframe, much like Ken had poked hers around it earlier. The rest of him followed soon after.

"Ken– you have a three-legged dog."

"A woman from the shelter found him wandering. He'd been hit by a car."

Harry smiled when he guessed the rest of the story. "And you figured he needed you?"

"He's a wonderful dog. You barely notice he's missing a leg."

"Isn't it cruel to call him Lurch?"

Her winged eyebrows scrunched into a frown. "I got his name from the Addams family. Get it? Adams and Addams?" Leaning down, she ruffled his fur. "And Lurch likes it, don't you, sweetie?"

Harry slumped against the pillows, sleepy, sated and feeling the slightest bit better. "What's next? A canary singing show tunes?"

"I didn't realize you had a sense of humor buried under that stuffed shirt, Traynor." Rising from the bed, she set his tray on the bureau. She flicked a glance at what appeared to be a surprisingly delicate wrist. "Time for another pill. I've worn you out. And I need to head back to the site."

"Saturday afternoon?" He studied her while she refilled his glass with icy water before accepting the pill she handed him.

"There's a lot of daylight left. You'll be okay for awhile?"

"I'll be asleep before you hit the driveway." Kendall hesitated before tucking the sheets around his waist, her gaze carefully averted, her cheeks flushed with color. "Maybe tomorrow we can review your contract."

Her head shot up, eyes suspicious. "Do you ever relax?"

Harry ignored her question, skirting the issue. He was
not
a workaholic. He was capable of fun. Just because he stayed connected- "Where's my phone?" Her blank stare confirmed his suspicions. It was probably buried in the rubble of the construction site.

"It wasn't in your briefcase?"

He shook his head. "It was in my shirt pocket, so it probably got crushed."

"I'll check when I get back. Won't take but a couple minutes to scoot down there and  look around."

He shuddered at the thought of anyone 'scooting' into the bowels of hell. "Don't bother. I'll pick up a new one when I get home." Ken's expression was determined as she edged away from the bed. Clearly, she wasn't crazy about others telling her what to do.

"So– no chance on the contract? It wouldn't take any time at all."

"Your brain needs a rest. No thinking." She finally met his gaze, he noted, once she was safely across the room. "Before you leave, we'll review everything. I want to straighten this mess out just as much as you."

As awful as he felt, Harry doubted he'd be able to do much of anything tomorrow. Still, there was always the possibility he'd be up and around. "If I promise not to exhaust myself, can I use your phone later?"

Nodding, Kendall slipped out the door. He smiled when her muttering voice floated back up the stairs. Something about him being too damned stupid to know he was seriously injured. He felt a  prick of shame over his mean-spirited comment earlier. Maybe Ken wasn't so bad after all. She'd taken him in, nursed him, fed him a great meal.