Loved by You (4 page)

In this case, the universe was giving him a graceful way of letting Tiffany know he wasn’t available without making her feel inadequate. Smiling, he turned to the blonde and said, “Tiffany, have you met my girlfriend?”

“What?” Tiffany’s shocked gaze flew to the woman.

Who frowned at them as she stood up and brushed her butt off. “What are you doing here?” Scott’s friend asked.

“Waiting for you.” He strode to his new girlfriend, tugged her into his arms, and laid a big kiss on her.

Her hands came to his chest. He waited for her to push him away, or to slap him, or knee him in the nuts. All valid options and certainly all deserved.

It shocked him when instead she melted against him and wound her arms around his neck, pressing herself more fully against him.

His body woke up, at attention. Everything but the lush feel of her mouth on his and the long length of her against him faded away. He clutched her shirt and brought her closer, liking the way she hummed.

Because she let him, he slowed the kiss, deepening it. She was scorching and eager, and his only thought was that he didn’t mind playing with fire.

Her breathing heavy, she disengaged from his lips without moving an inch. Her half-lidded gaze went from his mouth to his eyes, and back to his mouth.

He pushed her hair out of her eyes. They were hazel, a complicated kaleidoscope of colors. “If I do that again, will you slap me?”

“I’ll slap you if you don’t,” she said as she resumed kissing him.

Her T-shirt rose up, and he put his hand on the warm skin of her waist. She felt resilient and soft, and he couldn’t help trailing his hand up her back, along her spine. He felt goosebumps raise on her skin and the low murmur of what he hoped was pleasure.

Something bumped his leg. He was going to ignore it when he felt a nip at his calf. “What the hell?” he exclaimed, glaring down.

Ante Up gave him a piggy grin, waving his snout up and down.

“Is that a pig?” Scott’s gorgeous friend asked, still in his arms.

“Yeah.” He looked around, relieved to see that Tiffany had left. Since there didn’t seem to be a reason to kiss her any longer, except that he wanted to, he let her go. “Thanks for helping me out. I couldn’t get rid of her.”

“The pig?”

“Tiffany Woods. She’s the main headhunter at a firm I’m interviewing with.”

“I thought she looked like a cannibal.”

“Not that sort of headhunter, though I wouldn’t be surprised if I heard rumors of discarded bodies.”

The woman snapped her fingers. “I know where I’ve seen you. You’re a friend of Scott’s. You were here for the spectacle.”

“Spectacle?”

“Or wedding.” She waved her hand back and forth. “To-may-to, to-mah-to.”

He liked her. Grinning, he held out his hand. “Chance Nolan. You live next door.”

She shrugged as she shook his hand. “It’s a burden I carry.”

He held it in his, reluctant to let it go. “First tell me your name, then tell me why you climbed over the bushes.”

She sighed. “Neither one is a pretty story.”

“Name first.”

“KT.”

“The only time people go by their initials is when they have hideous names.”

“Exactly.”

“What’s yours?”

“Like hell I’m giving you ammunition like that.” She crossed her arms and frowned at him.

“I can guess.”

Sighing again, she shook her head. “No, you really couldn’t.”

“Katunia.” At her raised brow, he continued. “Keisha. Kayla. Kevin. Kevlar.”

“You had to go to bullet-proof material?”

He shrugged. “You seem tough.”

She snorted.

Ante Up snorted, too.

KT reached down and scratched the pig behind his ears. Chance swore the porker’s eyes rolled back in pleasure. “I must be speaking his language,” she said.

Or else it just confirmed that his pig was as smart as Chance believed. “Okay, you won’t tell me your name, so tell me why you were climbing into the Carrington-Wright yard.”

“That’s because my name is lame, and I hopped the fence to get away from my mom. She keeps trying to set me up with men.”

“You don’t like men?”

“I don’t like the men she brings home for me. I like men fine.” She stared at his lips.

He felt the power of that stare in places she wasn’t overtly checking out.

KT cleared her throat. “Well, I should go. Good luck with Tiffany. Looks like you’ll need it.”

“Wait.” He grabbed her hand before she got away. He didn’t need luck when he had KT. “Be my girlfriend.”

“Excuse me?”

He hadn’t planned it out but now it seemed like a brilliant idea. “Pretend to be my girlfriend, just until I get the job and Tiffany is no longer an issue. I want the job, but if she harbors romantic delusions, it’s going to be tricky.”

She smirked. “It’s hard being hot, isn’t it, hot shot?”

“I’m giving you a solution to both our problems and you’re mocking me?”

“I’m impossible.” She shrugged. “And it’s only a temporary solution.”

“I’ll sweeten the pot,” he said.

“How?”

“You’ll get to kiss me any time,” he said impulsively, hoping it was as tempting to her as it was to him.

Her eyes zeroed in on his lips again. “And, what? Go on pretend dates?”

“Yes. It’ll get your mom off your back.”

“True. And will we pretend kiss?”

“I’m not sure there’ll be any pretending there.” He lowered his lips to hers, because he couldn’t help it.

“I feel like I’m signing away my soul,” she whispered against his mouth.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep it safe for you.” He slid his hand under her shirt again. “We should do something to mark the beginning of a beautiful relationship.”

“Save it for when we have an audience, Bogart.” She patted his chest and stepped away.

“Want my number?” he asked, willing her to say yes.

Rolling her eyes, she got her phone out. “Give it to me.”

Reciting it slowly, he watched her save it, her brow furrowed in concentration. She gave him an undecipherable look before she left him. He watched her lovely ass sway as she sashayed into Elise’s house, wondering where she was going and when he’d get to kiss her again.

Chapter Four

Her music was sacred.

Even when KT wrote pop songs for Jamila, she’d taken her music seriously. She had focus, and no one interrupted her for threat of loss of life.

But today as she began to play her concerto, her mind wandered. Instead of rewriting the end of the middle section, which still wasn’t quite right, she thought about Chance.

She thought about kissing Chance.

She wasn’t a stranger to kisses. She may have liked her privacy, but she wasn’t a prude. Her first kiss had been at a party in Mick Jagger’s home. She’d been ten, and the nephew of some other guest had cornered her behind a zebra-print curtain.

Chance kissed much better than that boy.

Her music took a turn, infused with passion borrowed from the memory of Chance’s lips on hers. Soft and lingering at first, a hushed focus that built into the promise of erotic completion.

She played faster, humming along, her fingers almost stumbling over themselves as her music fell into place. The piano sang with unrestrained desire, a need that thundered through her, too.

It ended on a sudden, startling note. KT sat there, breathing hard, her heart pounding. And then she grabbed her pencil and began scribbling the notes, replaying what her fingers had done in her head, and she scrambled to get it all down.

The front door opened.

She turned around to glare at whoever entered. “What the hell? I’m working.”

Her mom stood in the doorway, looking every bit the rock diva in torn jeans and a vintage Beatles T-shirt tied at the waist. She had bracelets up her arms, rings on her fingers and toes, and big hoop earrings. Her hair streamed down her back. It should have looked ridiculous on a woman her age but on Lara Taylor, it was perfect. KT felt the combination of love, admiration, and envy she always felt for her mother.

Until Lara spoke. “Karma, are you a lesbian?”

KT sputtered incoherently. “Mom.”

Her mom closed the door and stepped into the cottage. “There’s nothing wrong with it, sweeting. In my day, I kissed a girl or two myself.”

“
Mother.
”

“I don’t know what you expect me to think.” She trailed her fingers on the piano keys before resting her elbow on the top and propping her chin up. “You clearly aren’t interested in seeing men.”

That wasn’t entirely true. She was
very
interested in seeing Chance again—in public or private.

She thought about their deal. It wasn’t as much a deal as it was insanity. Pretend to date? It couldn’t work.

Except maybe … Because if he could kiss her that convincingly before they had a deal, just think of how he’d kiss now that they had an agreement.

She looked at her mom. She wasn’t sure she could lie to her, no matter how crazy the woman was driving her.

Lara returned her gaze pleasantly. “Have you thought about what you’re going to wear on stage when you perform, Karma?”

“I’m seeing someone, Mom,” she blurted.

Her mom just stared. “I think I need to get my hearing checked, because I thought I just heard you say you’re seeing someone.”

Her face flushed hot. It wouldn’t be a lie if she and Chance actually
did
see each other a few times. It wasn’t like she said she was going to have his babies or anything. They’d “go out” a few times and then she’d break up with him. Or vice versa. Whatever. “You didn’t hear wrong.”

“A man?”

“No, a vibrator.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course, a man, Mom. Geez.”

Lara shrugged. “It never hurts to ask for clarification. What’s his name?”

“Chance Nolan.”

“Oh, I like it.” Her eyes became dreamy. “He sounds yummy. Does he have good hands?”

KT covered her eyes. “Please don’t go there, Mother.”

“He must, if you’re blushing that way.” Her mother arched a brow at her. “It’s not how much they’ve got that counts, Karma. It’s how they use it. Take your father, for instance.”

“I’d really rather not.” She’d covered the wrong body part. She clenched her palms over her ears instead of her eyes.

Lara pulled KT’s hands away. “There’s nothing to be ashamed about, Karma. You know your father and I are sexual beings.”

Why couldn’t she have normal parents, who didn’t talk about sex and ignored her?

“When is Chance coming over?” Lara asked.

“Never,” she murmured.

“Karma.”

That motherly tone with faint disapproval got her every time. She sighed. “I’ll ask him.”

Lara clapped her hands. “Excellent. Have him come over this afternoon.”

Dread pooled in her stomach. “I don’t know if he’s free this afternoon.”

“He’ll be free.” She kissed KT’s forehead, brushing back her bangs. “I’m so happy you finally met someone you’re interested in. I only want you to be as happy as your father and I are.”

She wilted. Oh, the guilt. “I know. It’s just I’m different than you guys.”

“Of course you’re your own person, Karma, but I think you underestimate who you are.”

“Who am I?”

“I think you’re going to find out over the next few weeks, before the concert.” Her mother smiled mysteriously.

She watched her mother walk away, not feeling reassured at all. She was still staring at the door when it reopened and her sister breezed in.

KT frowned. “What is this? Grand Central?”

“Do you know Gwen?” Bijou asked, ignoring the sarcasm. “She owns the gourd art store on Sacramento.”

“What the heck is gourd art?”

Bijou held up her hand. “Before you disparage her pumpkins, you should see them. Her work is amazing.”

“If you say so.”

Her sister rolled her eyes. “Forget the gourds.”

“You’re the one who brought them up.”

“As a frame of reference, not as the main note. Gwen has a charity for kids in the Mission, and she’s looking for a music teacher for a particular kid who apparently has skills but not the money to take classes. She’s supposed to be an idiot savant, like you.”

“Don’t call me names,” KT joked halfheartedly.

Bijou smacked a business card on the top of the piano. “Call Gwen and set up teaching this kid.”

She said the obvious. “I’m not a teacher.”

“If you want to convince Mom you have a higher calling than strutting on a stage, then you better become one right away.”

Actually, it was a good idea. Her mom couldn’t complain if she thought KT was meant to be an instructor. Her parents held teachers in the highest regard. She could sell it as her way of giving back. “That’s actually smart, Bijou.”

Her sister rolled her eyes. “Gee, thanks, KT.”

She ignored the sarcasm and thought out loud. “That, combined with the fact that I’m dating someone, should satisfy Mom.”

“You’re dating someone? Someone real?”

“
Bijou.
”

Her sister shrugged. “Can you blame me for asking? Who is he?”

“His name is Chance Nolan. I met him at Scott’s wedding.” Which was true, if not completely accurate.

Bijou gaped at her and then burst out laughing. “Chance and Karma! How perfect is that? If you have kids, you have to name them Faith and Hope.”

She frowned, finding it way too easy to imagine having kids with Chance. “We just met.”

“Karma and Chance, sitting in a tree …” Bijou lifted an eyebrow suggestively as she sashayed her skinny ass out.

She was
not
going to think about having babies with Chance. But Bijou was right about one thing, teaching music would go a long way toward satisfying their mom. Damn it. Maybe she could teach this kid without playing for her. If the kid really was a musical genius, she’d only need a few pointers.

KT gripped her head. Just days ago she was happy and uninterrupted in her own little world. Now everyone was harassing her.

Except Chance.

She got her phone out of her back pocket and called the number he gave her before she could talk herself out of it.

He answered on the second ring. “I was thinking about you right now.”