Kit And Kisses (2 page)

***

Pulling up in front of the address Kit Saunders had given him, Grey couldn't understand the sense of lightness and excitement that he felt at the thought of seeing her again, talking with her again. He'd actually caught himself whistling this afternoon. Did the thought of an attractive woman stir that many hormones?

Nah. He was simply glad it was Saturday, with a day off tomorrow that he could spend with Deedee. And maybe he was finally getting over the loss of his father. He still couldn't throw off the grip of grief that snuck up and unexpectedly grabbed him sometimes. They'd been close. After Grey's mother died, they'd raised Deedee together. Grey had spent his spare time in Corey's Hardware since as far back as he could remember. After he'd earned his accounting degree, his dad had made him an official partner. At thirty, what Grey wanted most in life was to turn the store around financially so it could prosper long into the future.

Maybe Kit Saunders could help him do that.

He climbed out of the truck and took the ladder from the bed in the back. Giant elms that looked centuries old lined the street. Bright red and white impatiens overflowing the garden's boundaries edged the flower bed that eased along the wrap-around porch. The rambling house reminiscent of bygone days looked as if it had worn many coats of paint, but the shiny cream coating gleamed in the late afternoon sun. An old-fashioned house didn't seem to fit Kit, but then what did he know?

The concrete steps led to the wooden porch. The solid wood door stood open letting the warm breeze float through the screen. But something also floated out. Grey could hear a high lilting voice singing along to a popular song with a great deal of feeling. He held the ladder waist high and listened.

It was pure, sweet melody that reached down inside and grabbed a part of him that was alone and cold. The surprise of it made him suck in a breath. Damn! It was just a woman singing. He rapped sharply on the door.

Kit kept singing.

He rapped again, then knowing it was useless, he opened the door and stepped inside. Her living room was practically bare. As she sang along to a portable tape player positioned in the bay window, she precariously perched on a step stool, tearing flowered wallpaper from the upper half of the room.

He called, "Kit?"

She glanced over her shoulder, almost losing her balance. He hurried to catch her, but she jumped down and landed on both feet. "My gosh, I didn't know it was so late." Crossing to the CD player, she flicked it off.

The surroundings faded away as Grey again felt captivated by the woman. Her cut-off denims were deep blue, ragged at the edges, hugging her as they couldn't possibly hug anyone else. She'd tied her flamingo-pink, short-sleeved blouse at the waist and as she moved, creamy skin peeked out above her waistband. Her hair hung silky and sleek along her cheeks. Not a trace of makeup. She didn't need it. Not with those blue, blue eyes and soft pink lips.

His heart galloped and he gripped the ladder tighter.

She crossed to him, gingerly guiding her battered sneakers over the plastic covering on the hardwood floor, avoiding strips of torn wallpaper. Motioning to the stepstool, she smiled. "As you can see, I need the ladder before I break my neck."

"You should have waited," he said, his voice surprisingly gruff.

She lifted her chin. "For what? I want to get this stripped so I can get to work."

Holding the ladder in one hand, he moved the stepstool to a corner. "A remodeled room won't do you much good if you break your neck."

Her silence met him as he opened the ladder, placing it where the stepstool once stood. Terse words shortly followed. "No one tells me how to live my life, Mr. Corey."

When he faced her, her blue eyes were defiant, her stance defensive. "Not even if it's for your own good?"

Her hands waved through the air and she picked up strips of paper and stuffed them into a waste
can standing near the archway. "I've heard that one before, and it doesn't cut it. My good is rarely someone else's concern."

"Are you saying no one cares about you?"

"Of course not. Eric and Maggie do. Maggie and I are closer than any sisters could be. What I'm saying is I mistrust people's motives when they're concerned about my good."

As she passed him, he caught her arm. "What motive do you think I have?"

He stared into her blue eyes, watching annoyance leave and confusion take its place as she answered, "I don't know."

He touched a strand of loose hair along her cheek and felt her tremble. "I wouldn't want to see you get hurt. It's as simple as that." Knowing he was standing too close, restraining himself from touching more than her hair, he took a step back and nodded to the CD player. "You have a great voice."

She looked a little dazed. He felt somewhat off balance himself. After a moment, she said, "Thank you."

"Do you sing professionally?"

She laughed. "No way. As close as I get is Karaoke Night at The Music Box. Ever been there?"

He recognized the name of a club he often heard mentioned in the store. "I've been there once or twice. But not for that."

"I was practicing for tonight. Eric and Maggie are going to stop by. You could come and give me moral support." Then, as if the invitation had been given before she had time to think better of it, she asked, "Do you have a delivery slip for me to sign?"

He took the slip from his pocket and handed it to her. Their fingers brushed and Grey caught the flicker of awareness in her eyes right before she turned and headed for the kitchen, murmuring, "I'll get a pen."

He followed her to the large kitchen. A gigantic spider plant hung above the sink. Bright yellow walls seemed to bathe the room in sunshine. A rattan table for two set with colorful placemats sat next to the refrigerator. A cream-colored loveseat faced a small television housed on stacked orange creates. Magazines lay scattered on the floor beside the loveseat.

Movement caught Grey's eye. In front of the open door lay two cats, a gray tabby and a black and white long-hair. The tabby lay flat on his back, his four paws swaying in the air. The long-hair stretched his paws before him, blinked at Grey, and thumped his tail.

Grey smiled. "Have you lived here a while?"

"I rented it after I finished college. When Maggie finished, she moved in with me. Then a few years ago, she decided she'd trade apartment
living to invest in a house.

"She and Eric haven't been married long, have they?"

"It'll soon be a year."

Grey glanced again at the living room. "The landlord doesn't mind you remodeling?"

Kit fished in a drawer, shuffling aside papers and a ruler. "Not if I pay for it. I've wanted to do it for a while, but..." She shrugged.

Kit didn't seem like the type to put off what she wanted. He wondered why he didn't see any living room furniture except the loveseat and television. "Are you going to leave the wainscoting on the bottom half?"

"No. What do you think would be the best way to get it off?"

"A crowbar. Do you have one?"

"No. But I'm sure Eric does. He lets me borrow whatever I need."

"He's a nice guy," Grey agreed.

"Maggie was lucky," Kit responded.

Her tone was almost wistful. Certainly a woman like Kit could date any man she wanted.

Finding a pen, she unfolded the slip and pressed it flat on the counter. The phone rang. "The machine will get it," she said as she signed her name.

After the first ring, Kit's lilting message played. Then a woman's voice came over the line. "Ms. Saunders, you don't know me. A friend of mine told me I should contact you, even after all this time because it might give me some peace of mind. I've wanted to tell you how much I admire what you did, how you went after Trent Higgins so he got what he deserved. The sentence he got isn't long enough for all the women he's hurt, but I guess it will have to do."

She paused then hesitantly continued. "I was one of them, too, but I was afraid to do what you did. I was afraid to come forward. The trial. The publicity. Everything. I didn't want everyone knowing how stupid I'd been. He took the money I'd saved for my daughter's college education." She stopped for a moment. "I'm sorry I didn't come forward when you pressed charges. But I'd really appreciate it if we could have lunch or something some time, though I'll understand if you'd rather not." The woman gave her name and number and hung up.

The silence in the kitchen was thicker than a pea-soup fog. Kit's head stayed bent over the delivery slip. Grey knew he had no right to ask, but he wanted to know more about this woman who intrigued him. "What was that all about?"

"It's over," Kit said in such a low voice that Grey took a few steps closer. She looked pale as she raised her head.

"Kit?"

His voice brought her gaze to his. "I'm sorry. What?"

"Are you all right?"

Her back straightened and her shoulders squared. "I'm fine. Just fine."

"You were involved in something sticky?"

She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. "You don't read the local papers?"

He gave an off-handed lift of his hand. "I haven't had much time for that."

She sighed. "Simply put, I got taken. I thought I was in love but it turns out I was in love with an image." She nodded to the living room. "I haven't had decent furniture in there for three years. I had to sell almost everything to pay the debts he ran up. I'm finally getting back on my feet financially."

"How did it happen?"

"Do you mean how could I have been so stupid?" Her voice was pained.

"No. You're an intelligent woman. How did he get to you?"

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that I caught on to him before we got married."

Grey stuffed his hands in his pockets, not pleased with the picture of her with another man. "You were engaged?"

She raised her chin combatively. "Do you think I'd let just anyone tamper with my savings and credit cards?"

"No," he said softly. "That's why I asked how he got to you. And I think it does matter."

Her arms tightened around her as she studied him. "I don't know you, Grey."

At least they were back to a first name basis. "Sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger. Apparently the whole thing still bothers you or her phone call wouldn't have affected you."

"Playing therapist?"

"No. Just providing a listening ear."

She shook her head. "I've talked about this to Maggie until I'm blue and so is she. I've got to get over it, not whine about it."

"Whining about it is one thing. Talking about it to find out why it happened and why it still affects you is entirely another."

Frowning, Kit rubbed her fingers across her arms. "I know why it happened."

"Why?"

Turning away from him, she stared out the window. After a long pause, she answered, "Our family history. We had a father who drank and a mother who was afraid to leave him. She taught us to be compliant. But Maggie learned it better than I did."

"You were rebellious?"

Kit gave a mirthless laugh. "I saw Dad for what he was
—
a bully. I stopped trying to please him long before he died. But because of him, I guess, Trent Higgins duped me. For years, I'd looked for the perfect man, one who was kind, considerate, generous, and sociable
—
all qualities our father had lacked. But Trent's perfection was all a sham. I guess I was just hungry for the affection and attention he offered and couldn't see beyond it."

"It could happen to anyone."

"No. It could only happen to someone who was as gullible as I was."

"Or needing to be loved."

She faced Grey then, her blue eyes sad. "Yes, only I discovered love does strange things. He was a con man, but I didn't realize that until it was almost too late. My feelings blinded me. That will never happen again."

"Sworn off relationships?" He needed to know, not stopping to analyze why.

"I'm just very cautious about who I date. I ask for their life history. I accepted Trent's background without question. I should have known something was fishy when he said he didn't have any family."

That sadness in her eyes and the sense of disappointment in her voice moved Grey to say, "He hurt you badly, didn't he?"

Kit's eyes glistened and she again turned away.

Anger that Grey didn't understand surged through him and he wished he could get his hands on the man who had done this to her. He put his hand on her shoulder and nudged her around. "Everyone makes mistakes." Her gaze met his, and he was overwhelmed by the desire to take her in his arms and hold her until the past hurt went away.

Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile. "Yes, and I guess I just have to accept that. My pride was hurt most of all. But bringing charges against him helped. And when his two previous wives came out of the woodwork and he was charged with bigamy, too, the little devil inside me jumped for joy. Isn't that terrible?"

"No. That's justice." Grey nodded toward the answering machine. "Are you going to meet her?"