Just One Kiss (9 page)

An odd thumping in the front hall was followed by a rattling, then the crash of the apartment’s front door flung open. More thumping, and rather animal vocalizations, only not the kind made by animals. The kind made by people who are screwing each other’s brains out. Like animals.

The door slammed shut. The grunting, moaning and thumping continued.

Angela glanced across the table. Daniel looked as pale as she had been bright red a minute ago when she thought it was a good idea to try breathing French fry.

“Your roommate?” she whispered. A stunned nod from Daniel. “Ah. Well, he certainly sounds…healthy.”

Daniel’s glazed eyes turned to her and snapped into focus. Then a wonderful and really beautiful thing happened.

He laughed.

Not cautiously, not quietly, but with total abandon. Angela’s heart responded again with that funny lurch, only more, and with a certain amount of triumph, too.

At the rich wonderful sound, the thumping and moaning stopped. Panicked whispers ensued. Scrambling. A door closed.

“Let’s go.” Daniel jumped to his feet and held out his hand. “Anywhere away from here.”

“I’m so with you.” She gave him her hand and got half-dragged, giggling, out of the kitchen. Opposite the closed door, Daniel paused.

“Hey, Jake. Just wanted to let you know we had a sudden need to take a nice lo-o-ong walk.”

This time the front door slammed behind them, and they flew down to the stairs and into the street.

Four steps down the sidewalk, a sharp flash of lightning. Wind. Thunder.

There were never thunderstorms in Seattle. The temperature was too steady, too mild to build the requisite opposing forces needed for the explosions.

But there was apparently going to be one now.

“Angela.”

“Yes, Daniel.”

“I’m done fighting this curse. Would you like to walk in a violent storm with me and get completely soaked?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He turned his face up, squinting at the black sky. “Fitting end to the evening, huh?”

“Couldn’t be better. Or worse, depending on your view.”

He still had her hand, and swung it as they walked down the street in the April rain, wind turning it even chillier. And somehow, instead of the next disaster on their date/nondate, the cold, drippy mess felt freeing and wonderful.

“I was thinking…” He squeezed her hand, sent her a sexy sidelong glance.

Angela’s heart nearly stopped. “Yes?”

“That maybe we need a do-over on this evening, given that pretty much nothing has gone as planned.”

“Oh.” Somehow she managed to say the word calmly, which was a miracle, because she really wanted to be inappropriately childlike, shout, “Wheeee!” and run in circles. “I’d like that.”

“Good.” They crested a hill; Daniel stopped suddenly. “Look at that.”

“What?” She peered down the steep incline, but nothing seemed out of place or odd.

“All that down…” He took a deep breath, a few steps, then a few more, increasing his pace, and then he was pulling her. “Run!”

She ran. Or maybe she flew, drops pelting her face, wind gusting, thunder crashing in the distance. Ran on and on, her energy seeming only to mount, her breathing barely taxed, so aware of Daniel beside her, his warm hand in hers and another evening promised to both of them.

At the bottom, they stopped, panting and laughing, giddy like fools. He turned, face alight, matching hers. His mouth stretched in a brief smile, then retracted.

“Angela…”

Boom.

Out of the sky a bolt of lightning so close the light was blinding, the metallic smell pungent, the accompanying crack of thunder nearly deafening. Angela shrieked, Daniel yelled, the rain started slamming. Then he was pulling her into the narrow shelter of a storefront, shielding her with his arms, turning them so his back was to the storm and she was protected, pressed against the shop door.

More giggles, more panting breaths.

“Oh, my gosh. That was terrifying.”

“Really? You were scared? Not me, I was totally calm.” He grinned when she lifted her head to give him a skeptical glare.

“I distinctly heard you yelp like a puppy.” She hadn’t realized how much taller he was until she was close like this. Really close.

“Yelp? Me?” His gaze focused intently, and Angela felt her own smile fading, too. Her breath had been slowing, but now a new source of adrenaline sped it again. This moment between them was magic, standing toe-to-toe, water dripping from their skin and clothes, the rain now a constant steady drumming, the occasional car swishing past.

“Daniel.” His name came out breathlessly. She had nothing to say, no thought of seduction anymore, she was caught in time with this man, whose name she simply had to say out loud, though she barely understood why.

He moved down, she moved up, and they were kissing. Not with the tentative exploration of a first kiss, not with the wild passion of lust, but with the practiced ease of a couple who already knew each other’s mouths and tastes, the shape and pressure of each other’s lips, the texture of hair under fingers, of muscle and skin under palms.

“Angela.” Her name this time in the same helpless voice she’d used for his, as if he were also compelled by forces he didn’t understand.

More kissing, lovely, lovely endless kissing that turned hotter and hotter the more it went on. Kissing that started taking over Angela’s brain, until the arousal became so fierce she found herself clinging to his broad shoulders, pressing her pelvis against him, making please-please whimpering noises.

The kissing ended. He pulled back. Stepped away into the wet, looking confused and somber, wind ruffling his hair, his eyes a beautiful blue surprise against the clouds in his face.

Angela had gone too far, and seduction hadn’t even been on her mind. She’d felt only a primal need to be closer, to feel his skin against hers, to keep kissing him, as much the seductee as the seductress.

“I’m sorry, Angela.”

“I know, I understand. I’m sorry, too.” No, she wasn’t. Not at all. Not for a second was she sorry for anything that had happened between them since they met. But what had happened was too intense for the circumstances, and that was the last thing he needed. The last thing either of them needed. He was right. A little cool-down time was a good idea.

“I should go home.”

He didn’t object. Gave a slow nod and took her hand again. They walked in silence up the hill they’d run down with so much joy and abandon. He drove her back to Fischer Grill where they’d met, fire trucks gone, Closed sign in the window.

She pointed out her car, and got out into the rain, more of a sad drizzle now, the perfect accompaniment to her mood.

“Good night, Daniel.” She managed a smile. “Thank you for the most unusual evening I’ve ever had.”

He grinned then, that amazing smile that lit up his face. Angela got a lump in her throat—entirely too much feeling for the situation.

“I am not quite sure how, but I had a great time, Angela.”

“I did, too.”

She hovered for another second, hoping for a repeat of the do-over offer. A Mulligan for a poor shot on the first hole of their first course played together.

No offer. So she smiled again, closed his car door and walked to hers, knee hurting, hair a wet, tangled ruin around her face, shivering from the cold that hadn’t bothered her a bit when Daniel had been beside her.

She wanted to see him again. More than she’d wanted anything in a long time. Maybe tomorrow she’d feel differently. Maybe she’d take a long look at her life and her feelings and decide a repeat date was the last thing she needed.

But right now with his taste still on her lips, with the sharp memory of his arms around her, his body pressed against hers—she wanted only one very simple thing:

More.

7

“Y
O
. H
OPE
YOU
didn’t strain anything getting here this early.” Daniel turned from his laptop, set up on the teak table in their department’s elegant conference room at Slatewood. Jake was two hours late for work, arriving two minutes before a meeting with their boss, Larry Kaiser, to discuss new cloud-computing security strategies.

“Shut up.” Jake slumped into the seat next to Daniel, pale and bleary-eyed.

“She finally let you out of bed?”

“Yeah.” He shook his head, smile pulling at his mouth. “She’s very…energetic.”

“Uh, so we heard.” Daniel closed an article he’d been reading online. “You seeing her again?”

“Nah.” Jake powered up his laptop.

“Why not?”

“I don’t think I’d survive another date.” He grinned when Daniel laughed. “
You’re
in a good mood this morning. How was
your
date?”

“It wasn’t a date.” Daniel was glad he didn’t blush easily, because the lie was a big one. Not a date. Yeah, that was why he’d been a nervous wreck going to meet Angela and sitting across from her at the restaurant. Why he’d panicked when she fell, pushed bar patrons out of the way and run down the block to her side. Why he’d felt so protective wanting to get her cleaned and bandaged. And why when he touched that impossibly smooth skin of her thigh and felt her trembling, he’d wanted to make love to her on the bench right there on Sixth Avenue. He didn’t even want to think about what he’d wanted to do to her while they were kissing.

And for that reason, he shouldn’t see her again. Should put her entirely out of his mind. He’d promised a do-over after the disasters they’d had, but that was before he’d gone out of his mind and kissed her.

What was the right path? He didn’t know. The vow to Kate had been so sacred for so long—up until the moment in Angela’s bakery when Daniel had told her about the promise, saw her reaction and was then left with his own. Regret. Wistfulness. Annoyance.

For the first time the words he’d clung to, lived by for the last year and a half, felt uneasy. Over the top. Nearly ridiculous.

The feeling only got stronger when he’d spent a whole evening with Angela on their, uh, not-date. When he’d experienced her, hurt and trembling, sexy and fun, wet and breathless. Then in his arms, warm lips pressed to his, warm body pressed to—

God, he had to stop thinking like this.

“Oh, no,
not
a date, not at
all
.” Jake jabbed in his password. “That’s why you came home looking like you’d just seen Angelina Jolie naked.”

“No comment.”

“You going to see her again?”

He shifted. A little voice inside him was shouting,
Of course I’m going to see her
. But he wasn’t about to open himself up to temptation. Temptation to break his promise before he’d thought the consequences through more carefully, and temptation for Jake to skewer him with teasing. “Nah.”

Jake made a sound of disbelief. “Why not?”

“In your words, ‘I don’t think I’d survive another date.’” Or at least his vow to Kate wouldn’t. Angela tested his resolve more than any other woman had. Not just the sexual attraction she held for him—he’d been attracted to a few women over the last year and a half. The danger lay in the fact that her personality was sexy to him, too. He loved the way she turned from wild to innocent and back. He lusted over the way she moved, with sensuality she seemed totally unaware of. And felt oddly tender watching her wolf down a burger, or braving a painful fall.

“You’re not avoiding her because of Kate… .” Jake waited for a response, then blew an impatient raspberry. “C’mon, Dan, this woman seems great.”

“And you’d know this because you’ve spent so much time with her? What was she, a flash going past the door while you were banging some—”

“It’s how you’ve been acting since you met her. Like you might have finally realized you didn’t die along with your fiancée.”

“I’m not acting any way.” He snapped the words out, aware that right now he was acting like a kid busted in a big lie.

“Ah, okay. So I just imagined someone singing weird shit in the shower this morning?”

Busted again. He’d been singing up a storm—Frank Sinatra, the Beatles, Queen, Cage the Elephant.

“Total hallucination.” He arranged his pad next to the laptop, put his pen horizontally across the top.

“Tawndee heard it, too.”

“You’d believe someone named Tawndee?”

Jake snorted. “Point taken. But seriously, man. You seemed excited about this woman.”

Jake had no idea. Thinking about kissing her, Daniel was practically getting hard right now under the conference table. Her ragged breathing and those hungry whimpers. He’d nearly—

“Good morning, gentlemen.” Larry Kaiser burst into the room, bald head leading his peculiar gait, as if he were always about to take off and start flapping. “Sorry I’m late. You two are on time as usual.”

“Yes, we are.” Jake cleared his throat pointedly. “But we can always use a few extra minutes of preparation.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. Suck-up.

“Anything going on?” Larry hoisted his case on the table and took out his laptop. “Just got in from the airport. Can’t get a flight on time anywhere anymore.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, no,” Jake said.

“All’s good.” Daniel looked down at his laptop, its edge parallel to the edge of the table, paper beside it, pen having rolled so it was no longer exactly horizontal. The urge to straighten it was ridiculously powerful. And it hit him, that besides being sexy, part of Angela’s draw was her lack of right angles and straight lines, her shifting moods and energies. Kate had been all order and predictability, vital to him after the chaos of his upbringing. Angela…

Who was he kidding? He couldn’t push her from his mind. Not even for ten minutes.

“Who’s got what on the agenda?” Larry laid his BlackBerry on the table. “Or off the agenda?”

Off the agenda. Here was Daniel’s opportunity to push Angela as he’d promised. “I was wondering about the Spring Fling this year.”

“The party?” Larry looked up from his laptop in surprise. “What about it? You coming? Got a new date finally?”

“Ha!” Jake smirked. “As a matter of fact, he—”

“No, not that.” He sent Jake a glare. Daniel hadn’t been to any of the quarterly company parties since Kate died. “I stumbled over a potential caterer. Really talented. Just wondered if—”

“Caterer?” Larry’s ears perked up. He was devoted to food in all forms, which his many hours in the gym couldn’t erase from his middle. “What kind?”

“Bakery.”

Larry booted up his machine, shaking his head. “No, no, out of the question. We have my niece, Nellie, for that.”

“I know. She’s incredible.” She was. Angela couldn’t compete in that arena. But… He took a deep breath, not sure if what he was about to do was the right thing. “This is different.”

“Different how?”

“Less sophisticated. More regular stuff. Cookies, cupcakes.” He called up the taste memory of those oatmeal cookies. “Sounds dull, but one bite and you realize how flat and tasteless the rest of your life—”

He broke off in horror. He’d been about to say “the rest of your life has been.”

“Um, how the rest of your life eating cookies…has been…flat. And tasteless.”

Silence as Jake and Larry looked at him in concern.

This was not good. “Her name is Angela Loukas. She owns A Taste for All Pleasures on Capitol Hill. She’d be happy to provide samples.”

Angela would undoubtedly rather send pastry samples, but an in at Slatewood would be good for her business, and given Nell’s talent, the cookies and cupcakes were her best chance. Her only chance.

Larry’s left eyebrow raised. “Friend of yours?”

“Girlfriend of his.”

“She’s not—”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Larry looked so pleased and was grinning so warmly that Daniel shut up. “Good for you. It’s about time. Sure, bring in some samples, we’ll see how she does. Now…”

He pulled up a file and the meeting was officially on. Which meant it was an hour before Daniel could get Jake alone in their shared office and attempt to kill him.

“My
girlfriend?
Larry will tell Lucy and she’ll tell everyone.”

“So? It got Angela a chance.” Jake smacked Daniel’s chest with the back of his hand. “Lighten up. Wait until after he tries her stuff. If he’s not into her, problem solved. If he wants to hire her, say you just broke up.”

“Oh, for—”

“Angela isn’t going to know.” He backed toward his desk with a meaningful look. “And guess what, neither is Kate.”

“Would you stop bringing up Kate like that?”

“Hmm.” Jake looked thoughtful, then shook his head. “I doubt it.”

Daniel sighed and dumped his laptop back on his desk. He should be seriously annoyed at his friend. Much more than he was. But it had just occurred to him that he now had a legitimate, nondate reason to talk to Angela again. To tell her that Larry would take a look at her cookies. Daniel would decide in the meantime whether another date could or should happen.

Though he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

* * *

“
O
H
,
MY
NIGHTMARE
,
oh, my nightmare, oh, my ni-i-ightmare Madeleines.” Angela thumped down a plate of the small shell-shaped French cakes on the coffee table in the group’s shared apartment. “Hey, are we the only two who showed up for cleaning duty again?”

“Jack’s coming. Seth has a lesson. Demi…” Bonnie rolled her eyes and poured scouring powder into the sink. “Who knows. Cookies still not cooperating?”

“Spongy. Crumb not delicate enough. I’m liking the rosemary-lemon flavor, though.”

“Let me try. I bet they’re fine.” She peeled off her manicure-saving yellow rubber gloves, which clashed spectacularly with her sheer violet top, and made a beeline for the plate, grabbed a Madeleine and took a bite. Chewed thoughtfully. “Oh, how
spongy,
and what an
indelicate
crumb.”

Angela snorted. “Uh-huh.”

“I’m not wild about the rosemary in there, but the texture doesn’t bother me.” She finished the cookie and took another. “You’re too picky.”

“If I’m going to compete…”

“I know, I know, you want the glamor-bakery. Well, keep trying. You’ll get it. I’m sure the five hundred and seventy-seventh recipe will be better.”

“Only three hundred forty-five to go.” Angela made a face. “I’ll go get the cleaning stuff.”

She went into the back room, a bedroom whose closet the group had taken over for supplies, and pulled out spray cleaner and a sponge, absently tossing her bakery apron on the bed. The group picked one Sunday evening a month to get together and clean the common room, since doing it on a rotating basis hadn’t worked out. Someone was always busy on his or her day.

“So…” Back in the kitchen, Bonnie was still going at the sink, again wearing the horrible gloves. “I have not yet gotten the detailed report on The Man Who Cannot Date.”

“I came by your place last night and you’d gone out.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Bonnie’s voice turned ultracasual. “Seth and I went out for a drink.”

Angela sighed. She didn’t know whether to strangle Seth, Bonnie or both. Why did Bonnie keep doing this to herself? Could denial run that deep or was she simply a masochist? “Fun time?”

“Sure. He’s always fun. So did you get Daniel to change his mind?”

“I don’t know.” Angela found herself scrubbing the same spot over and over, a spot that hadn’t been that dirty in the first place. “I just…don’t know.”

“Well, that’s not too helpful. What happened?”

“Pretty much everything went wrong. At the same time, it all managed to go right. I think.” She pushed back a lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail. “I still don’t know what I’m going to—”

“Excuse me.” Bonnie held up a rubbery yellow hand. “Details first. Analysis later.”

Angela told her the story of the multiple-disaster evening, laughing at how horrible it all sounded, but not able to quell the deep longing she’d been feeling every day since Thursday, whenever she thought of that time with Daniel. Longing for what exactly? Certainly for another chance to see him, another chance to seduce him. But Angela wished she could say the longing stopped there, where it was supposed to.

Granted, Daniel was the first guy she’d pushed past her fear to go out with, so she was undoubtedly giving him more importance than he deserved, and probably clinging too tightly to hope that something would come from it, even knowing dating could be a long bumpy road and it was seriously unlikely she’d land smoothly on her first try.

At the same time, while their kisses had been unbearably full of desire and passion, there had also been moments of pure sweetness, and tenderness so deep it bordered on pain.