Harlequin KISS August 2014 Bundle (43 page)

Leo stared. He was doing a lot of that. ‘You mean there’s a
theme
?’

‘I’m not talking about those horrifying Elvis or Medieval or
Viking themes. Or Halloween—it’s been done! I’ve seen pictures—with pumpkins! I
mean just a touch of complementary colour, a certain style...things like
that.’

‘You’re scaring me.’

‘I promise you’ll
love—’

‘
Really
scaring me. Later, okay?
Much
later.’

Sunshine wrinkled up her nose—and Leo had now twigged that this
meant she was about to put a new argument, so he held up a ‘stop’ hand.

‘I’ll see you Monday, Sunshine. And in the meantime try and
remember that the marriage will have already happened. This is just a
celebratory dinner.’

‘But—’

‘Monday.’

She made a muted explosive sound, redolent of frustration. ‘All
right! Monday! But I’m staying here for dinner—not running away like a good
little girl.’ She tossed her hair again. Flick. Over her shoulder. ‘I have a
date.’

Leo kind of liked that huffy hair-flick—it made him feel as if
she
were the one off kilter for a change.

‘Then I’ll send over a Campari for
you while you wait.’ Calm.
Reasonable. Charming, even.

‘Lovely, thank you,’ she responded. Calm, reasonable,
charming.

‘I won’t be able to come out and speak to Gary tonight,
though.’

‘That’s okay—Gary’s not coming.’

Frown. ‘But I thought you said...?’

‘Oh, I see.’ Little laugh.
Annoying
little laugh. ‘No, tonight I’m having dinner with Ben.’

‘Another investment banker?’

‘No. Ben’s an embalmer.’

Leo did the stare thing again. ‘You’re joking, right?’

‘No.’ Puzzled. Actually, seriously puzzled. ‘Why would that be
a joke?’

‘An
embalmer
? How did you even get
to
meet
an embalmer? Are you making shoes for
corpses?’

‘Not that I
wouldn’t
make shoes for
corpses, but no.’ Pause. He saw the tiny swallow.
‘It—it was a subject I needed
to—to research. Two years ago. For my...sister.’

‘I didn’t know you had a sister.’ He thought back...something
about her eyes? In the womb... Triplets...?

Twins!

Oh.
Embalmer. Sister. Her twin
sister was dead. And he was such a freaking idiot!

Because—oh, God.
no
—the face-morph.
It was happening again. Emptiness. Ashy skin.
Trembling lips. What the hell
was
that?

‘Sunshine...?’

No response.

‘Sunshine!’

Alarmed.

She shook her head and the look was gone. But her eyes were
filling and she was blinking, blinking, blinking, trying to stop the tears
falling.

Crap!
He reached over to the next
table, snagged a napkin, held it out to her with a gruff, ‘Here.’

She took
the napkin but just stared at it. Another blink.

He watched, holding his breath... Just one tear, one drop, and
he would have to...to... No, he couldn’t...could he? Hovering, hovering... His
heart was starting to pound...

And then she took a long, slow breath and the tears
receded.

Leo took his own long, slow breath, feeling as though disaster
had just been averted,
and slid into the chair beside her.

‘Sorry,’ Sunshine said. ‘My sister died two years ago. The
anniversary is coming up so I’m feeling kind of...emotional about it. I should
be over it by now, but every now and then...’ That tiny head-shake, then she
looked at Leo and smiled. ‘Anyway, let’s get back to—’

‘What was her name? Your sister?’ Leo asked, because he was not
getting back to
anything
quite that easily.

Sunshine paused, but only for a few seconds—and her smile
didn’t waver at all. ‘Are you ready for this, Leo? It’s not for the
fainthearted.’

Leo didn’t know if he was ready, not ready, or why he had to
be
ready.

In fact he didn’t know squat.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t let her change the subject as
she’d
clearly wanted to do. Why her unwavering smile was bothering him. Why he
wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her until she let those jammed-up
tears fall.

He didn’t know a damned thing—
least
of all why he should be interested in Sunshine Smart’s dead sister.

But he said, ‘Worse than Sunshine?’

‘Ouch! But, yes—at least Moonbeam thought so.’

‘Moonbeam?’
He winced. ‘Seriously? I mean...
seriously
?’

Little gurgle of laughter. ‘Yep.’

‘Good God. Moonbeam. And Sunshine.’

She was playing with the hem on the napkin he’d given her,
picking at it with her fingernails.

‘So what happened?’ Leo asked.

She looked down at the napkin. Pick, pick. ‘Hippie
parents.’

‘No, I mean what hap—?’

‘Oh, dear, I’ve snagged the
hem,’ Sunshine said, and put the
napkin on the table. ‘Sorry, Leo.’

‘I don’t care about the napkin, Sunshine.’

‘Actually, table napkins have an interesting history. Did you
know that they started out as lumps of dough, rolled and kneaded at the table?
Which led, in turn, to using sliced bread to wipe your hands.’

What the hell
? ‘Er—no, I didn’t
know that.’ Thrown.
Completely thrown.

Extra-bright smile. ‘But you were asking about Moonbeam.
Actually, it’s because of her that I’m sitting here with you. She and Jonathan
dated as teenagers.’

He was staring again—couldn’t help it. ‘No way!’

‘Yes way! But Moon realised pretty quickly that she’d need to
swap an X for a Y chromosome if their relationship was going to get to the next
level, even though Jon adored her. So—long story short—she encouraged Jon to
leap out of the closet, with me hooked in for moral support, and the three of us
became super-close—like a
ménage à trois
minus the
sex. And
voilà
—here I am, planning Jon’s wedding to
your brother.’ Her brilliant smile slipped. ‘One of the reasons I miss Jon so
much is because he’s a link
to my sister.’

Jon dating a girl.
Ménage à trois
minus the sex. Bread as
table napkins
? Leo didn’t
know what to say.

‘Anyway,’ she went on, ‘I don’t have to explain that to you. I
know you miss your brother too.’

‘It can’t compare.’

‘Yeah, I guess...I guess you can jump on a plane if you need to
see Caleb.’

‘That’s more likely to happen in reverse.’

‘You mean him jumping on a plane? Oh, no, I see—
him
needing to see
you
.’
She looked him over. ‘I get that. You’re the dominant one, you’re the one doling
out the goods, and you don’t
need
to see
anyone.’

The perceptiveness startled him.

‘So no emotional combustions! It’s a good way to be,’ she went
on. ‘In fact my approach to relationships is based on achieving
a similar core
of aloofness, of control. Of mastery over my emotions.’

He was a little awed. ‘Your approach to relationships?’

‘Yes. Separating sex from love, for example—you know, like that
ménage à trois
with me, Jon, and Moon. You have
to agree that it makes life easier.’

‘Easier, maybe. Not better.’

‘Of course it’s
easiest
to leave
the love out altogether.
That’s what I do now.’

‘What? Why?’

She tapped her chest lightly, over her heart. ‘No room in
here.’

‘You’re not that type of person.’

‘Well, I
do
have to work hard at
it,’ she conceded.

‘What? Why?’ God, he was repeating himself!

‘Because my natural inclination is to care too much about
people. I have to take precautions to guard against that.’

‘What? Why?’ Nope—he was
not
doing
another repeat! ‘I mean, what are you scared of?’

‘Pain,’ she said simply. ‘Because it hurts. To care deeply. It
hurts.’

Leo wanted to tell her the whole argument was ridiculous, but
the words wouldn’t come. What did he know? He was living proof that sex was
usually loveless, no matter how much you wished otherwise.

At least
Sunshine could actually touch a person without having
a panic attack, so she was way ahead of him. For sure Gary and Ben wouldn’t have
let Sunshine have those mini-meltdowns and sat there like blockheads, handing
her restaurant napkins. How was he supposed to find what Caleb had when he
couldn’t put his arms around a tearful woman? Did he even deserve to, stunted as
he was?

‘But we were talking about embalming,’ Sunshine said, and she
was twinkling again. ‘Which is much more interesting. A very technical and
responsible job. And it does make you think, doesn’t it?’

Leo, reeling from the various changes in conversation he’d been
subjected to for the past few minutes—shoes, pumpkins, napkins, sex, love,
embalming,
napkins
—could only repeat
stupidly,
‘Think...?’

‘Well, cremation or burial? It’s something we all need to plan
for. If you’re interested—as you should be, if you ride a motorbike—I’m sure Ben
would be happy to—’

‘Er, no—that’s fine, thanks.’ Leo got to his feet with
alacrity. ‘I’ll send over that drink.’

* * *

Halfway through the night, Leo poked his head out of the
kitchen.
Ostensibly to gauge how the place was humming along, but really—he was
honest enough to admit it—to check out Sunshine’s date.

And Ben the embalmer was handsome enough to give Alexander
Skarsgard a run for his money. Like a freaking Viking!

They’d ordered the roast leg of lamb—a sharing dish that came
with crispy roast potatoes, crusty bread rolls and assorted side dishes
and
condiments. Enough food to feed the entire cast of
The
Hobbit
, including the trolls.

Twice more Leo peered out at them. Both times Ben was laughing
and Sunshine was about to shove a laden fork in her mouth. Leo was starting to
think Sunshine could single-handedly have eating classified as a championship
sport.

Since he thought dining with a woman who actually
ate would
make a nice change, he didn’t know why the sight of Sunshine chomping up a storm
with Ben was so annoying.

But it was. Very,
very
annoying.

Another laugh floated through the restaurant and into his
straining ears.

Right!
He ripped off his apron. He
was going to find out what the hell was so funny.

He washed his hands, changed into a clean
chef’s jacket and
headed out.

Sunshine looked up, startled. ‘Leo! This is a surprise.’

She quickly performed introductions as one of the waiting staff
rushed to find a spare chair for Leo, who was examining the almost demolished
lamb leg.

Leo raised his eyebrows. ‘Didn’t like it, huh?’ he said,
settling into the quickly produced chair.

Sunshine groaned.
‘Not funny. I’ll have to start dieting
tomorrow.’

‘That will be a one-day wonder,’ Ben said, and winked at
Sunshine.

Winked! Who the hell
winked
at
people?

Sunshine laughed. ‘Or you could kiss me instead, Ben,
because—interestingly—kissing burns six and half calories per minute. As long as
it’s passionate.’ She pursed her lips. ‘I guess passion supersizes
the metabolic
effect.’

Ben, in the process of sipping his wine, choked. ‘Where do you
get all these facts?’

‘The internet.’

Ben grinned. ‘Better brush up on your arithmetic, Sunny,
because if I kiss you for, say, fifteen minutes—and any longer is just
asking
for chapped lips—it’s going to net you a
hundred calories max. Basically, we’ll burn off two thirds of
a bread roll.’

‘Are you talking yourself out of a kiss?’ Sunshine asked.

She was doing the eyelash-bat thing, and Leo decided it made
her look like a vacuous twit. He only just stopped himself from telling her
so.

Ben smiled at Sunshine. A very
intimate
smile, by Leo’s reckoning. ‘You know I’m up for it,’ he
said. ‘But we’re going to have to make it a marathon and
buy a truckload of lip
balm if you keep that up.’ He nodded at her fingers, which were hovering over
the food.

Sunshine snatched up a small piece of crispy potato and popped
it into her mouth. ‘It’s a vegetable,’ she said. ‘Doesn’t count.’

‘Oh, that’s a
vegetable
!’ Ben
laughed. ‘And you’re a
nut
, Sunshine.’

Sunshine smiled serenely. ‘If that’s the analogy we’re
going
with, you’re a piece of meat.’

Ben gave her a
faux
mournful look.
‘Oh, I know I’m just a piece of meat to you. We all are.’

A phone trilled.

‘Mine,’ Ben said, reaching into his shirt pocket. He checked
the caller ID. ‘Sorry, I have to take this.’

‘All?’
Leo asked as Ben left the
table.

Sunshine laughed. ‘Just a “poor me” thing with my exes. They
get a bit club-like.’

‘What? There’s like a
legion
of
them?’

Another laugh. ‘Not quite.’

Leo leant forward, fixed her with a steady gaze. ‘Are you
sleeping with both of them? Gary
and
Ben?’

She stopped laughing. ‘And you’re interested because...?’

‘Just wondering where everyone fits in relation to that guff
about sex and love you were spouting earlier
and the whole pieces of meat
thing.’

‘It’s not guff.’

‘
Total
guff.’

She considered him for a moment. ‘Well—I’ve never been in love,
but I
have
had sex. And I’ll bet you’ve had enough
sex to write
Fifty Shades of Leo
—but no wife. No
steady girlfriend, even, right? No...love...perhaps?’