Just Her Type (13 page)

“Yummers.” With eyes watering and nose running,
Kendra reached for another wing.

“Can I get you something? Water, milk… fire
extinguisher?”

“No.” She sniffled, coughed, and wheezed.

Dominic smirked until the knitting project she’d
left on the nearby desk caught his eye. “What are you making?” He cleaned his
fingers with one of the moist wipes on the tray and lifted the needle with a
seven-inch-by-seven-inch block of stitches fashioned with size ten bamboo
needles and bulky-weight yarn in “vanilla dream.”

“What does it look like?” After taking one tiny
bite, she jettisoned that second wing to his pile of bones. She chugged her
beer. Though counterintuitive, the alcohol content calmed the inferno in her
mouth.

“Why, it’s a white flag, symbolizing your total
surrender to me,” he said with a round of cheesy villainous laughter.

“I thought we’d ditched Alpha Man for the evening.
And those wings were too vinegary, that’s all.”

 
“Uh-huh. The stinging effect of the
wasabi is potent, but fleeting. It’s the capsaicin in chilies that lingers and
kicks your ass.”

“Ha. Ha.”

 
“Admit
defeat, lady.” Dominic lifted the work and waved it around. “But seriously,
we’ve come a long way since that flight from Dallas back to New York, haven’t
we?”

Instead of agreeing with him, Kendra said, “Be
careful not to stain that.” But why was she fretting over a little hot wing
sauce when the piece already had several dropped stitches that left unwanted
holes? She’d been freestyling it, not following the pattern closely enough. The
needles were a little too small for that yarn and the tension was so tight, the
square could pass for a ceramic floor tile.

“What is it?” he asked again.

“Can’t you tell? It’s the beginning of a scarf. So
what do you think?”

Dominic paused, considering the query as if it
were a blind curve.

“Well?”

He put the piece back on the desk. “It looks nice
and warm.”

Translation: the knitting equivalent of having a
great personality.
 
“Thanks,” Kendra
said anyway. “The agency keeps me busy, but I manage to complete knitting
projects at a record pace. I do some of my best reflecting and brainstorming
for editing while doing needlework. But I enjoy group settings, too. I can’t
wait for my next sit-and-knit with Selena. I love those opportunities to catch
up, but sometimes we just sit quietly and all you can hear is the click, click,
click of our needles.”

“Selena? As in Selena Clark, a senior editor at
Winn-Aster, where you used to work?”

“Yes! Good guess. Selena is one of my closest
friends. Love her. And I’m sure you’ve heard of Aurora Chastain, too, also with
Winn-Aster. She’s in our knitting group, too. And there’s my girl, Brittany.
She’s a friend I hired to help me out at the agency. Eventually, she’ll have
her own list of clients, at least that’s the plan.”

Dominic stopped mid-chew to take a big swig of
beer.

Chapter 19

Sometimes the publishing
business was just too damn small for Dominic, who nearly emptied his bottle
before speaking again. “Yes, I read Chastain’s debut a few years ago.” But he
would keep his recent little misunderstanding with Ms. Clark to himself.

Little misunderstanding was actually an
understatement. He’d left Selena livid after their last phone conversation.

Revealing this to Kendra, even including his side
of the story, would do nothing to advance the immediate goal. Staying the
night.

“I’ve made about three dozen scarves so far,”
Kendra continued. “I’ve donated most of them to homeless shelters and the
Salvation Army.”

“So how long have you been knitting?”
 
Dominic asked, as his thoughts raced
back to Selena, who’d abruptly hung up on him. After a little time, she’d cool
down, accept his invitation to lunch, and all would be well between them again.
But until then, he couldn’t have Selena bad-mouthing him and possibly shutting
down his relationship with Kendra.

“Aunt Jackie has owned a yarn shop in Hoboken for
years, but I was bitten by the bug, oh, a little less than a year ago.”

“Why did it take so long?”

“I didn’t want to hurt her feelings so I never
told her, but I thought it was way too boring and granny-like for me, though I
knew people of all ages knit. And it actually became hip several years ago. My
closest friends were eager to learn so I joined them. Let’s make a deal. I’ll
knit a scarf for you in the color of your choice if I get to read some of your
chapters.”

 
Dominic refused to commit. “So how’s the
pizza?”

“Delicious,” Kendra replied as her smile slid off
her face and she picked at a pepperoni.

“What’s the matter?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said, looking reflective.

They shared more about their backgrounds and
worked through their meal and ordered more dessert. He did not visibly react to
the revelation that Kendra’s mother had been divorced three times. And was now
a newlywed. Again.
Whoa!

When Kendra asked about his parents, he revealed
that they had been married for nearly fifty years. Dating had been difficult
for them because neither of their families approved of the relationship at
first.
 
Dominic’s father, Reginald,
was a magna cum laude graduate of Harvard and scion of the single-minded
Sanderson Tobias, esteemed “Morehouse Man” and founder of Tobias Enterprises, a
Fortune 500 company.

Reginald had fallen head over heels in love with
Isabella Marin, who attended community college while dutifully working as a
cashier and stock clerk in her family’s sole Spanish Harlem-based beauty supply
store. Not what elitist Sanderson had had in mind for his only son. Why hadn’t
Reginald chosen one among the dozen of pre-approved former debutantes who’d
circled him like hungry sharks?

Isabella’s family had assumed Reginald, nearly ten
years her senior, had less-than-honorable intentions regarding their beautiful
daughter. Surely he’d drop her after he’d tired of having his way with her.
Eventually their families had come around.

“And they lived happy ever after, the,” Kendra
made quote marks with her fingers, “‘fairy tale’?”

“Not exactly,” said Dominic, who went on to tell
her that his mother and father had also endured their share of marital
challenges. Some might have deemed divorce a suitable solution, according to
what he’d learned after becoming an adult, but the pair had recommitted to
making their marriage work. Those trials had made them stronger.

Dominic was hard-pressed to find a mature couple
more in love than those two.

“Enough about my people. So your mom lives in Key
West?”
 
Dominic wanted to learn as
much as he could about Kendra as he appreciated the way her dark hair caught
tiny threads of light.

Kendra paused and leaned closer to him. “Hold
still. You have a,” she reached toward his right eye, “a loose lash that’s
about to fall.” With a light touch she tried to flick it away, but it fell on
his eyeball instead, startling him, which caused her to jab his eye with a
finger that still had traces of hot chicken wing sauce.

“Ow!” Dominic covered the burning eye with one
hand.

“Sorry! I have fluid for my own lenses and a spare
unused case, still in the package, on the bathroom counter. You have to take
the contacts out now.”

“You’re right,” he said heading for her bathroom.

***

While Kendra awaited
Dominic’s return room service knocked with their second helpings of that tasty
strawberry shortcake.

Looking through the peephole, she saw Brody
Goodwin on the other side.
Gah!
 
Should she answer? Who knew how long
Brody would knock.
 
Best to find out what he wants and then get
rid of him. Fast.

“Brody!” she said, keeping her voice low as she
opened the door.

“I know it’s late, but look, you left these on the
bus!” With a proud smile, Brody held up the cheap drugstore sunglasses Kendra
hadn’t realized were missing until that moment.

“But—”

“I forgot to mention I had them when we spoke on
the phone earlier.”

 
Kendra
anxiously glanced from Brody to the closed bathroom door. “Thank you, but this
wasn’t necessary. It’s not a good time.”

“I can see that. It’s late, and you’re in your
pajamas. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Kendra took the glasses and stuffed them in her
pocket. “How did you get—”

“Your room number. I have a fan who works for the
hotel. I promised I wouldn’t divulge my source. I took a chance you wouldn’t
complain to management. It’s just, well, I hate that we didn’t have more time
to talk today.”

“I can’t say much more than I already have until
you’re contractually free.”

“But you see, my situation with my agent—”

 
Kendra
glanced at the bathroom door again. “Brody, I can’t—”

“You’re angry, aren’t you?”

“No. No. No, you haven’t. I’m still the biggest
fan of your work.” Kendra stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind
her. “I want to hear what you have to say, but I can’t right now. It’s not you.
It’s just the timing.”

“But you’re still interested?”

“Yes!” she said, pasting on a huge smile.

 
“This
was nuts, coming here, I mean. I’m all wound up. I’m about to make a huge
career-changing move. I just—”

“Wanted more assurance. Understandable. But we’re
good,” she said, taking his arm and leading him down the hall toward an open
elevator. If he weren’t as huge as a Humvee, she would’ve given him a little
shove. “Bye! Sleep tight!”

When he gave Kendra the thumbs-up, she grinned and
fluttered her fingers at him as the elevator closed. She raced back to her room
and found the door locked.

When the elevator dinged and the door slid open,
she stiffened in dread, expecting Brody to step out.
 
But it was the room-service waiter
heading to 546, her room, with another covered dish on a tray.

 
Dominic opened the door. “How did you get
out there?”

“I just stepped out because I thought I heard room
service,” she said, feeling icky about the fib, but again, it wasn’t
her
place to inform him anything
regarding one of his own clients. And Brody was
still
Dominic’s client, she reminded herself.
 
However, there was a chance Brody would
become her client so she didn’t want to betray his confidence, either. “And
look! It’s here! It’s here!”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Dominic said, regarding
Kendra with suspicion. “And why are so wired about another order of strawberry
shortcake?”

“Because it’s the bomb dot com, that’s why,”
Kendra said, gleefully signing the check and including a generous tip for the
waiter’s perfect timing as Dominic took the tray inside.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Kendra
burbled to the waiter, who appeared bewildered by her overenthusiasm.

“How’s the eye? I’m so sorry I hurt you,” Kendra
said as Dominic cleared the table to make room for their second helpings.

“Accidents happen.”

 
Kendra
went to him and placed her hands on each side of his face to examine the eye.
“Looks as if taking out the lens did the trick.”

“Yeah, I flushed my eye with the fluid for several
minutes. One lens was torn. That’s why it was so bothersome.”

 
“It’s
looking better already,” she said, patting his lean cheeks before taking her
seat again.

Awkward situation circumvented. But Kendra
wondered if Brody would return with the travel-sized tube of sunscreen and
bandana she’d also misplaced during that tour.

Chapter 20

“Before the bathroom
detour, Moe was telling Curly about the mother, who lives in Key West,” Dominic
said, as he watched a visibly distracted Kendra rotate her plate and tuck into
her strawberry shortcake.

“Excuse me? Who?”

Dominic made a V with his fingers and mimicked a
couple of Three Stooges moves. “You know, what you were saying before the eye
poke?”

“Oh, yeah,” she replied with a hollow chuckle as
looked down at her mound of dessert.

“You still seem distracted and jumpy. The eye is
good, babe.”

 
“Huh?
I’m sorry. You were saying?”

“You were talking about your mother in Key West.”

“Oh, right. That’s her base, but she’s always had
a nomadic lifestyle. Right now she’s in the Bahamas for a couple of weeks with
Ashton, a.k.a the latest husband and ‘honey bear.’”

“And your biological father?”

“Never met the man. Vanessa has shared so little
information about him that sometimes I wonder if she even knows who he is.”

“What about your grandparents?”

“I didn’t know them, either. Well, her
parents…It’s complicated. I was told they had problems.”

“What kind of problems?”

 
“They
died before I could I meet them.”

“That’s too bad. You seem remarkably
matter-of-fact about it all. Strong woman.” Dominic sensed she held something
back.

“No,
grown
woman.
 
It could’ve been worse. My
childhood was wonderful after I moved in with Aunt Jackie and Uncle Alex. We
lost him, too. Two years ago. Bad heart. I miss him. He was such a loving man.”

Dominic placed his hand on top of hers.

“It’s been particularly rough on Aunt Jackie, who
is still so grief-stricken at times. I worry about her. She has good days and
bad days.”

“Of course.”

 
“Aunt
Jackie and my mother were the best of friends growing up.”

“I hear sisters make the best friends.”

“I wasn’t clear, was I? They’re not blood sisters.
They became close friends as neighbors. They grew closer after Aunt Jackie’s
parents became Vanessa’s foster parents.”

Dominic nodded.

“I hope this isn’t getting too convoluted. Nothing
is more tedious than loads of twisty backstory,” she said with a
self-deprecating chuckle.

“No. Pages and pages of elaborate description, no
matter how poetic, are like Sominex for me, but go on.” His hand was still on
hers. Things now flowed so easily between them, he felt as if he’d known her
for years.

“It sounds as if you had a great childhood,”
Kendra said, filling her mouth with cake.

“My older brothers and I got along well enough.
But I’ve always been the extremely odd youngest brother as far as they were
concerned, especially according to Gage, the eldest. While they watched or
played football, I usually had my nose in a book.
 
But I think I earned a few points with
the twins, Cooper and Emanuel, everyone calls him Manny. They loved when I
signed up for martial arts classes.
 
Gage thought my taekwondo was about as rad as shuffleboard.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He was all about
the football
.”

“But I get the feeling you wore
odd
as a badge of honor.”

“I did. There are advantages to being that brown
or green potato chip in the bag. You don’t get devoured by other people’s
expectations. You get to do you.
 
My
brothers didn’t know what to make of me. I mean, I did have a habit of singing
eighties classics such as ‘Raspberry Beret’ at the top of my lungs in the
shower.”

“His Royal Purpleness!” Kendra laughed, throwing
her head back, oblivious to the barely secured pajama-top buttons working
themselves free, exposing the plump inner curves of her beautiful breasts.

Dominic instantly hardened again and his fingers
twitched at the memory of their firm weight in his hands. He willed more
buttons to free themselves.

“Oh, and thanks for giving me an ear worm, by the
way. I won’t get ‘Raspberry Beret’ out of my head for at least a week, but hey,
might as well roll with it!” She shimmied on her seat and sang a few lines of
the song using a butter knife as a mic.

The impromptu performance gave Dominic enough time
to shift his focus away from that plunging V of her pajama top. “Something
about the eighties sound in pop, rock, hip-hop, and R&B just clicked for
me. I have a particular fondness for the new wave sound, the pop synth
variation—”

“That’s why you enjoy Love Nest Ninjas, too.”

“Yes. And I sought out and glommed onto as much of
that music as I could. What about you? How did you get hooked?”

“For me, it all started when I was about twelve or
thirteen, and I caught a marathon of old teen comedies on cable one day:
Pretty in Pink
,
The Breakfast Club
,
Sixteen
Candles
,
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,
Weird Science,
and
Some
Kind of Wonderful.
When I had the
chance, I watched a ton of other movies from that period with awesome
soundtracks,
Krush Groove
,
Fame
, and
Beat Street
. And who could forget
Breakin’
and
Breakin’ 2
Electric Boogalo?”
She grinned.
“
But
the two eighties soundtracks of all eighties soundtracks in my humble opinion
are…drum roll please…
Purple Rain
in
first place and
Flashdance
in second
place.”

“Yup.
Purple
Rain
, hands down. No competition.”

 
“But
guess what? My all-time favorite shower song is not from that decade. Who’d a
thunk it?”

“Oh? What is it?”

“ ‘Gypsies, Tramps & Thieves.’”

“Definitely eight-track seventies.”

 
“
I know, but hey,
I think
my
ear worm just wiped the floor with
your
ear worm
.”
Kendra
sang the song complete with compulsory Cher affectations— overwrought
notes, the tongue action thing, and the hair tossing.

Dominic applauded and executed a two-finger
whistle.

 
Kendra
fanned herself a few minutes later and drank more beer. “Got carried away
there.”

“Carry on. I was enjoying the show. It’s not a
Tobias family gathering without karaoke. I’m the karaoke king of the bunch that
includes Mom, Dad, Cooper, and Manny. Gage, eh, not so much.” He paused. “I’m
making Gage sound like a real jerk, aren’t I? We’re just opposites.
 
He’s the reserved, ultra-cool sort. A
man of few words, who doesn’t suffer fools gladly. All three of my brothers are
good guys, happily married with great kids. I’d love for you to meet them all
one day.”
 
Soon.

Kendra responded with silence and eased her hand away.

But Dominic pressed on. “So, do you want marriage
and kids?”

“Someday,” she said quickly without elaborating.
“I’ve had such a great time tonight. Thank you for asking me out.”
 
She swiped a finger across a glob of
whipped cream on the shortcake.

Before she could put it in her mouth, he
redirected it to his own, slowly drawing it inside and licking it clean.
 
He felt her shiver as their gazes
held.
 
Again, lust surged through
him with a potent punch. “And I thank you for accepting the invitation.” He
turned her palm up and pressed a kiss there, and then another at her wrist.
After pushing her sleeve to the elbow, he leisurely kissed a hot trail up her
forearm.

As he moved up her arm, Kendra’s eyelids lowered
and her lips parted. He kissed her again when she surged to her feet and made a
dramatic show of stretching and yawning.
 
“Look at the time. I want to make sure I’ve memorized my presentation
and then turn in.”

“I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed myself as
much.
 
Can I stay? I’ll be quiet
while you read your notes,” Dominic said, though a part of him believed he
should leave her wanting more.

 
“Sorry. You’re too much of a
distraction.”

“I want to hold you when you’re done. How’s that?”
Sounded good to Dominic, but his persistence and overenthusiasm could be his
downfall with this particular guarded sort of woman. Was he bordering on
annoyingly clingy? Too needy?

The warning voice spoke in his head told him,
Dude, back off. Give the woman a breather.
Stop sweating her. Give her a chance to miss you. Whatever happened to
deploying more suave detachment?

Dominic recalled the women who’d friend-zoned him
because he had played it too cool and casual.

But the warning voice reached a fever pitch with,
You don’t want to come off like the creeper
who would build a Kendra shrine in your closet. Or dig her a dungeon in your
basement if things go off the rails.

Dominic told that voice to go to hell.

“It’s the way you hold me,” Kendra said. “I won’t
get any sleep.”

“I promise to behave.” He lifted a hand as if taking
an oath.

As Kendra studied him for minute, he gave her his
best hangdog face. With a smile, she conceded, glancing at the clock on the
nightstand. “I don’t want it to end, either. Okay, you can stay.”

Dominic mimed a slow-mo catch of a football pass
and the race to the goal line to spike it. “Score!” He cupped his hands over
his mouth and faked the roar of the crowd.

“To heck with a stilted, memorized speech. I
already know what I need to say, but I’ll use index cards to make sure I hit
all salient points. It’s more natural that way.”

“Let’s hear it for index cards.”

 
“The
pants stay on in case something slips through the slit in your boxers or
briefs.”

“Ah, afraid I might thread the ol’ needle, huh?”

“I’m aware you can’t always control certain bodily
reactions while you’re asleep. The sweats provide an extra barrier of
protection against,” her gaze roamed to his bulging crotch, “things that
might—”

“Go,” he wrapped Kendra in his arms, pressed the
cradle of her hips against his and thrust, “bump in the night.”

 
“Yes.”
She peeled herself away. “And furthermore, hands stay out of my pajama top.”

“Yes, ma’am.”
 
He smiled, thinking of alternatives.

“And hands stay out of my pajama bottoms. Are we
clear? No shenanigans or I’m giving you the boot.”

 
“Yes,
ma’am.” Dominic set the room service cart outside, removed his shirt and shoes,
and then joined her under the covers. He rested on his side, propping his head
up with one hand and using the other to stroke her soft hair.

“I haven’t seen this in a while.” Kendra’s fingers
skimmed the hair on his chest. “I see lots of rippling abs and pumped pecs on
romance covers all day long. None of the models have a strand of chest hair.”

“I hear it doesn’t always photograph well, and
they say women prefer unobscured muscle, that polished marble look,”

“Not this woman.” Her soft hands moved over his
muscles, heightening his arousal. “Hmmm.”

“I promise not to manscape anywhere below the
neck.” To distract himself from what he really wanted to do, Dominic gave her a
moustache with that colored lock of her hair.

Kendra had that hungry look in her eyes as she
caressed his chest until he was sure she’d reconsider her sleepover
restrictions. Her fingers dallied and roamed downward, as if counting the
ridges of his abs.

“I’m following your rules, reluctantly. You need
your rest. Now stop teasing me or all bets are off, lady.”

“Right.” Kendra giggled and gave him the sweetest
good-night kiss. “I had so much fun with you today. Thank you.”

“And thank you for accepting the invitation. I
knew we’d be good together.” Dominic got up to adjust the thermostat, lowering
it to encourage closeness without the arctic blast.

He kept his promise and held her with one arm
curling around her waist as she dozed off.
 
If he’d listened to that killjoy in his head, he would’ve been alone in
his own bed
.
He kissed Kendra’s
forehead and stroked her hair some more as he anticipated spending many more
nights with her in his arms.
 
Just
like this.
 
But when he was sure he wouldn’t
awaken her, he slipped out of bed to take a cold shower.