Her Perfect Man (9 page)

“You going somewhere?” she asked.

“I don’t want to wear out my welcome.”

“I was hoping we were just taking a breather.”

Her heart thumped when something sparked in his eyes at her suggestion.

“Yeah?” He ran his finger, cool from the water glass, between her breasts where her robe gaped open. He bent his head to hers. Their mouths were so close their breath mingled.

“Yeah.” She closed the gap and pressed her lips to his, licking inside the moist warmth. Then she grasped his ass cheek and squeezed.

He laughed into her mouth, pulling away a moment later. “All right, then. Meet you back in the bedroom.”

“All right.” Her voice came out a purr. She placed both empty glasses in the sink, then noticed the cat’s empty water bowl. She filled it and set it on the floor, calling for him. Funny. She hadn’t seen him since returning from dinner. Had the little jerk snuck out?

“Hey Grouch. What? Aww…” In the big picture window where her plants sat, one of the pots had been overturned. Potting soil spilled on the wide window ledge and the floor. Clearly the cat’s work. It wasn’t the first time he’d tipped over a plant trying to chew its leaves.

That explained his absence. He was hiding out because he knew he was in Dutch with her. “Yeah, you better hide, you little…”

She set the pot upright and frowned. It was a new plant, an English Ivy and yep, there were teeth marks all right on a couple of leaves. She turned to get the dustpan from the kitchen when she spotted Groucho’s fat orange body sprawled beneath the glass coffee table. “I can see you there, dummy. Hey.”

Hey. Something was wrong. The cat lay as motionless, unresponsive to her voice.

She screamed when she saw foam around his mouth. “Groucho!” She lunged for him and lifted his heavy body from the floor. He lay like a limp rag in her arms.

Charlie raced into the room in only his boxer briefs. “What is it?”

Kim, unable to speak, turned to him with the cat in her arms. Charlie’s forehead crumpled with concern. “What’s the matter, guy?” He stroked the cat softly and took him from Kim. “He’s really sick.

Call the vet.”

Call the vet.
“Yeah. Okay.” Numb with fear, her brain turned sluggish. Her phone. Where the hell was her phone?

“Kim.” Charlie’s voice, insistent but calm, got her brain in gear again. She grabbed her purse from the futon, pulled out her phone, and rushed to the kitchen where she’d stuck the vet’s card to the fridge with a magnet. She fumbled with the phone, her fingers too clumsy to push the buttons. “Shit.”

“Here.” Charlie appeared beside her, handing her the cat while he took the phone and tapped in the number on the card. He listened, then tapped in another number. “They referred me to the vet on call.”

While he spoke to the vet, Kim cradled Groucho.

Her friend gazed at her helplessly, as though he couldn’t understand what had happened. He let out a thin mewl.

“He’s limp now.” Charlie spoke into the phone.

“Just lying as though he can’t move. Yes, he’s drooling, and it looks like he vomited something.” He paused, listening. “I don’t know, let me find out.

Kim.” His firm voice pulled her out of her daze. “Do you think he got into something, ate something he shouldn’t have?”

“He, uh, yeah, he chewed on my new ivy plant.”

Charlie repeated this to the vet. “Yeah. Yes.

Thank you.” He clicked the phone shut. “We’ve got to take him to Dr. Flanders’ office. He’s the vet on call.”

“Did he say what…”

Charlie’s lips compressed into a grim line. “Ivy’s toxic to cats.”

Kim’s heart thunked with guilt. “Jesus.” It was her fault for bringing the stupid plant into the house. If Groucho died…

“We’ve gotta go.” Once again, Charlie brought her back to reality.

“Yeah. Yeah.” Holding her friend in one arm, she scooped up her purse and ran for the door.

“Kim.”

She whirled. “What?”

He swept his arm in a gesture to encompass the both of them. “Clothes.”

“Shit.” She remembered she was naked but for the robe and he wore only his underpants.

They both hurried to the bedroom. Kim set the big bossy cat on the bed, and he lay there as weak as a kitten while she and Charlie scrambled into their clothing. She grabbed a big soft towel from the closet and gently wrapped Groucho in it.

“I’ll drive,” Charlie said, and Kim nodded, too shaky to answer, too shaky to even lock the apartment door behind her. Charlie had to take her keys and do it for her. No way would she have been able to drive.

“Don’t die on me, buddy. Please don’t die,” she murmured to Groucho as he lay on her lap in the car. Maybe she should have put him in a carrier, but if he was dying, she wanted to hold him one last time.

Charlie’s hand squeezed her arm. “He’ll be fine.”

If he’s not, it’s all my stupid fault. I’ll have killed my best friend.

Yeah, Groucho was her best friend, closer to her than Lynnette and even Tommy. He was her daily companion, her confidant, her protector, and her pain in the ass. His supreme selfishness amused her, pissed her off, and kept her from focusing too much on herself. He gave her someone to take care of.

Boyfriends came and went, but Groucho was always there—the most consistent male presence in her life.

Maybe it was pathetic, to be closer to an animal than to any human being. But right now, she didn’t care. “He’ll be fine,” Charlie repeated. Kim held on to that assurance with all her might.

****

“I’m glad you were here.” Kim spoke softly. It was now almost three in the morning, and they were back at her place, seated side by side on the futon.

Groucho was staying in the animal hospital overnight, but had been treated and given a good prognosis by the vet.

“I’m glad I could help.”

“You did help. You were great. I was a basket case.”

Charlie pressed her hand. “He’s gonna be fine now.”

“Yeah.” She leaned in to kiss him lightly on the lips. “Thank you.”

“Tell me about the quilts.”

His unexpected change of topic left her confused.

“There was one in the laundry basket the other day.” He gestured to the sewing machine set up on a small table and the cut out pieces of cloth. “And I see you’re making another one.”

“There’s a program at the hospital. They hand out baby quilts and blankets to families that need them.” Her face grew warm as she spoke.

“Kim. That’s a lovely thing to do.”

She shrugged, feeling shy. “It’s just something I like doing.” Hesitating, she inclined her head in the direction of the bedroom. “Do you want to—”

His eyebrows lifted. “Do you?”

Actually, she wasn’t in the mood. Still coming down after her scare with the cat, she wasn’t exactly feeling sexy. But she didn’t want Charlie to feel cheated. “I mean, I did say it was a breather—”

“It’s all right, Kim.” He smiled easily. “I’ll just take a rain check.”

“Yeah?” Her pulse spiked and heat flared between her thighs at the promise. “I like that idea.”

Then, heart thumping with apprehension, she ventured “Would you stay with me? Even if we don’t, you know.”

Immediately, she wanted to kick herself. She sounded like such a wimp. Though she really didn’t want to be alone since she would only spend the entire night worrying about Groucho, she shouldn’t dump it on Charlie. He only wanted a little fun, not some clinging vine.

“I’d like to stay.” His eyes were amazing, as clear and blue as the ocean in one of those travel magazines.
Visit Beautiful Jamaica!

Kim swallowed hard. “I’d like to work with kids.”

His forehead creased in puzzlement. “Excuse me?” “You asked me about my dream. You know, at the restaurant. What I’d do if I could do anything.”

She licked her dry lips. Her voice quivered. “I’d, uh, I’d work with kids.”

His eyes widened, but she could see no amusement or scorn in his expression. “Yeah? You mean like a teacher?”

She wanted to laugh at the thought of
her
doing that after all the trouble she’d had in school and all the hell she’d given her teachers.

“Not a teacher. I mean, what you do is awesome, teaching kids to be creative. But I’d like helping kids who don’t fit in. The ones that don’t like school, the screw-ups…” The kind of kid that she’d been.

“A counselor, maybe. I can see you with kids,” he told her. “You’re down to earth, no bullshit. You’d do well with them.” He leaned toward her. “Have you been around kids much? It’s easy to romanticize working with children
if you haven’t spent any real time with them.”

Kim felt foolishly eager to finally share what she’d imagined for so long. “Well, I hang out with Lynnette’s son, T.J., when she needs someone to watch him.” Which was a lot. “And I’ve helped in Tommy’s classroom, when they’ve had parties and field trips and he needed volunteers.” She shrugged.

“That’s not much, though.”

“It’s experience. Enough to let you get a feel for it. Did you like it?”

“Yeah.” Bubbles of enthusiasm fizzed inside her as she spoke. “I did. I do. T.J.’s a good kid. And I had a great time with Tommy’s kids. I think they liked having me around, too. Tommy said so, anyway.”

“That’s great.”

She flushed and glanced away, suddenly afraid to meet his eyes. This was being naked with him in a different way. “Not much chance of it happening.”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Yeah, well.” Though her cheeks were hot with embarrassment, her heart lightened. It felt good to share.

To hide her silly bashfulness, she faked a yawn, then stood. Smiling at him, she offered her hand.

“Come to bed?”

They walked hand in hand to her bedroom.

****

“Sorry I’ve nothing better to offer,” Kim told Charlie as she handed him a cup of coffee the next morning. He had dressed, but she still wore her robe.

“One of these years I’ll manage to pick up some groceries.”

“This is fine,” he said. “In fact, let me take you out to breakfast. We can swing by the supermarket on the way home and you can pick up what you need.”

“Yeah? That’d be nice.” She still felt a little awkward with him, and it had nothing to do with sex. The sex had been fantastic, but she’d had plenty of sex in her life, with plenty of different guys. What happened with Charlie was
intimate
, and that was new for Kim. She’d not only shared her body with him, but a secret she’d never revealed to anyone.

And thinking about it now, maybe she shouldn’t have confided in him. She’d had a weak moment,

after her scare with the cat. Why couldn’t she have just kept her big mouth shut?

“How’s Groucho? Have you heard?” he asked.

“Yeah, I called the vet. He’s doing a lot better.

He can come home later today.”

“Great. You know, I’ve been thinking about what you said last night.”

Oh shit, here it comes.

Hoping to avert the discussion, she pretended not to hear him and frowned at the picture window where she kept her plants. “I’ve got to get rid of that stupid ivy before Grouch gets home. Would you like it?” “I’m not much with plants,” he answered. “They tend to die on me.”

As he spoke, she picked up the pot with the plant in question and deposited it outside her door.

“Guess I’ll decide what to do with it later. Maybe Mrs. Fogle’d like it.”

Charlie didn’t let her change of topic distract him. “You know, there are lots of programs looking for adults to volunteer with children, serve as mentors, role-models—”

Kim snorted. Yeah, she’d be a great role-model for some poor unsuspecting kid. Show him how to screw up his life in ten easy steps.

Charlie was still going strong. “If you enjoy that, there’s no telling what else you might want to do.”

She could think of only one sure-fire way to shut him up. She stopped his flow of words with a kiss. It was a good kiss, too. She worked him with her lips, slipping her tongue sinuously into his mouth, teasing him to respond.

And there were other things she could do with her mouth. Things that would continue to distract him. Kim kissed his chin, then down his throat, then, pushing his shirt up to reveal his warm skin, down his chest.

She fell to her knees, dipping her tongue into the well of his belly button, and unzipped his jeans.

Reaching into his boxer briefs, she took his cock into her hand. It leapt at her touch and seemed to nuzzle against her palm like a cat that wanted stroking. As she stroked and pumped, he grew larger and harder.

A clear drop of pre-cum beaded at the tip of his cock before she kissed it away and took him in her mouth.

His head tipped back and his eyelids drifted to half-mast as she sucked and swirled. But suddenly he grasped her shoulders and pushed her away while he pulled back himself. “Enough.”

“What?” Kim was surprised. She’d never known a guy to refuse a BJ.

He hauled her to her feet and backed her against the picture window, where a wide ledge held her plants. When her butt met the ledge, she found herself sitting in the spot recently vacated by the pot of ivy.

“You called the shots last night,” Charlie said, going down in front of her. “Now it’s my turn.”

He’d guessed she was trying to take over and had turned the tables. That was fine with her, though, as long as he forgot what she’d blabbed last night.

She shivered, but not with cold, as he flipped her robe above her thighs. He hooked his finger at the hip of her bikini panties and drew them off, tossing them behind him. Going to his knees, he lifted her right leg and placed it over his shoulder, pushing her thighs apart to wedge himself between.

She held her breath as he leaned in, taking his time, teasing her. At last, she felt the hot flick of his tongue.

Kim’s head fell back as electricity zinged through her like a live wire. Her hands combed through his hair as she pressed his head closer. He laughed a little and pulled back. “Hold on. You gotta let me breathe.”

“Oh.” Her grasp loosened. “Sorry.”

He moved in again. He played with her, his tongue flickering and dancing along her folds, teasing her clit then moving away. Kim’s nipples beaded hard, and a hot flush rose up her skin.