Simply Sex (15 page)

With Seth, she felt an odd recognition.
Here you are at last.

Their Mate Check profiles weren’t too far off….

Holy Hannah in July, who was she kidding? She’d erased and rewritten the damn charts to give them an above fifty match score. Hadn’t she learned anything?

She was definitely not cured.

Someone had parked in Kylie’s guest spot—a presumptuous neighbor, no doubt, since Kylie was too busy for guests—so Janie had to park in a distant visitor space.

Soon, Kylie would be gone altogether, Janie realized. Her lungs tightened a little. She’d put off acknowledging this painful reality as long as possible. She would miss her sister terribly. The one good thing about the Personal Touch troubles was that they’d spent more time together.

Her intense focus on Personal Touch over the past year had kept her too busy to insist they get together regularly and she hadn’t done her usual bit to keep Kylie from obsessing about work.

Anything too easy made Kylie suspicious. She thought she had to keep managing, planning, organizing, working, or life would fly out of control.

She’d been that way since they were kids. As soon as they moved somewhere, Kylie had to scope out the place. Find the park, the library, the places kids hung.
Let’s ride our bikes to the mall and meet people.
It was exhausting, but it helped Kylie, so Janie was game. Her sister’s assertiveness was helpful because Janie was a little shy. Still, she couldn’t help wanting to ask Kylie why the rush, the constant push, the go-go-go?

She’d sensed the reason as a child, but her psychology training confirmed it: fear of intimacy. Kylie was unnaturally queasy about emotional attachments, and ran from sadness as if it might break her in pieces.

In quiet ways, Janie had tried to get Kylie to slow down, to feel what she felt, but she was only the little sister and Kylie discounted her wisdom, opting instead to overprotect Janie. So Janie let her second-guess her decisions as cheerfully as she could, then did what she knew was best in her life.

Including trying to help Kylie recognize that what mattered most was family, friends and a meaningful life. Rewarding work was part of that, but not the whole story.

In the past couple of weeks Kylie seemed to have lost all focus except on work. She was frazzled and sluggish—not her usual self at all.

Her overwork was partly Janie’s fault because of Personal Touch, but she’d bet Kylie was also using work to duck her grief over leaving Phoenix, her business and her sister.

Janie took the sidewalk to Kylie’s door. At least the Personal Touch problems were easing up. The business plan was drafted and Kylie had arranged for an attorney to help them. Her sister was a whiz at solving problems. For that, Janie was eternally grateful.

Maybe Janie should get Kylie’s opinion about Seth. Her sister was no-nonsense when it came to matters of the heart. She’d tell her to forget it, move on, be strong.

Janie sighed, knowing she’d keep Seth to herself. Which, of course, was a bad sign.

She tapped at Kylie’s door.

A dog yipped.

A dog?

There was rustling, whispering, then something—a body?—thumped to the floor.

“Just a minute…hang on,” Kylie called breathlessly.

Good grief, what was going on? Kylie had company? She’d only returned this morning from L.A.

Kylie flung open the door, looking messy and sheepish as hell. “You’re early!” A fair-haired terrier looked up from the floor beside her, trying to act innocent. “It’s only…um…three-thirty.”

Inside, the air swirled with energy…. “Are you busy?” Janie asked. Then she noticed a man sitting on the floor at the cocktail table. Cole Sullivan, of all people, pretending to write on a piece of paper that was upside down. He looked rumpled and chagrined and his face was bright red.

Sex. That’s what the air swirled with. Janie’s heart filled with dread. At least it wasn’t her fault Kylie was in a sluggish daze. It was Cole. And whatever they were doing together.

“We were…strategizing…for the Marlon Brandon meeting,” Kylie said brightly.

The dog emitted a cross between a snort and a sneeze—
oh, please.
Janie couldn’t agree more.

“Cole offered to help us with the legal issues,” Kylie said. “We wanted to surprise you.”

“Oh, you surprised me, all right,” Janie said drolly.

“I had time,” Cole said. “No big deal.”

An awkward silence fell. Kylie and Cole jumped on it at once, their voices colliding like butting heads.

“What we were thinking about doing—”

“We can fill you in on the plan—”

They looked at each other, blushed, then smiled.

“I’m early and you two are obviously busy,” Janie said, trying not to roll her eyes. “I’ll come back with dinner—” Then she noticed that kitchen counter was littered with take-away boxes. The smell reached her nose. “Mexican food?” she asked, amazed. “But you swore off lard.”

“It’s…a special occasion. You can eat with us. We can discuss our…strategy, right, Cole?” She nodded at him. He’d stood and was approaching, nodding, too. They looked like a pair of blushing bobble dolls. Discombobulated bobble dolls. Kylie’s blouse was misbuttoned and Cole’s T-shirt was inside out and back to front—the tag a wagging tongue at his throat. So
not
the outfit of the workaholic attorney who’d done his Close-Up with one eye on his watch.

She noticed the TV was on, too—muted on Comedy Central, Kylie’s favorite. “You’re watching television?” she asked Kylie.
What does this mean?

“Just in the background,” Kylie said.
I can explain.
“Did you want to borrow that…book?”

“That book?”

“About the…thing.” Kylie motioned toward the hall, clearly wanting to duck into her office.

“Yeah, the thing. Sure.”

“Do you mind, Cole?” Kylie asked.

“Take your time,” he said and gave her a look filled with stars—no, an entire meteor shower. Holy Hannah, Mary Mackerel, Cole was smitten. And it was Janie’s own fault. She’d practically begged Kylie to date the man.

Janie’s dearest hope was for Kylie to find true love, of course, but this was a life-transition fling. Textbook. Obvious in the desperate looks they shot each other, in their dazed expressions, in the fact that they’d just let themselves get caught in the act.

Janie should have seen it coming, but she’d been too harried with Personal Touch and preoccupied with Seth.

This was trouble. This could jeopardize the Cole and Deborah match. She wanted the best for her sister, but a fling was just a distraction and Cole’s future was at stake here.

Janie had to do something to stop it.

“A plan? To ruin Cole’s future?”

“We’re just blowing off steam until Deborah gets back. We
were
working, too.” Except that they kept getting distracted. Her by Cole’s lips when he was explaining something, the ripple of his forearm when he held the pen, the gleam in his espresso eyes when he made a point. And Cole by the pulse at Kylie’s throat…her laugh…her plump toes, especially the pinky ones, which he’d named
Pinky
and
Plumpy
. Not clever, but who cared?

They’d had enough sex to leave every muscle aching, but they couldn’t leave each other alone. They couldn’t even watch
Last Comic Standing
very well. It turned out to be impossible to laugh and kiss at the same time. You banged teeth or bit each other’s tongue.

“Cole is mad for you, Kylie,” Janie said. “He’s got the entire Milky Way in his eyes. And your feet don’t touch the ground.”

She looked down to ensure that her bare soles were indeed planted firmly on gray berber. “We’re just in lust. We’re both stressed at work and being together is a relief. It’s like a vacation. No strings. No worries. Simple sex.”

“Sex is never simple, Kylie.”

“It has to be. I’m leaving town and Cole’s hooking up with Deborah. There’s a definite bookend to this thing. It’ll be fine.” Except for the hitch in her breathing and that empty stomach pain again.

“This is a life-transition fling for you, but it’s risky for Cole. If he’s still mooning over you, he won’t be open to Deborah and she’s skittish about men. She needs a guy like Cole, who’s emotionally steady. She’s exactly what he wants in a wife.”

“I know. We both know.” She fought the stab of jealousy and loss she felt listening to Janie describe Cole’s future with another woman. Of course it was right and good and she wanted him to have the perfect wife. Still. Her stomach was really bothering her. Maybe she should try one of those major antacids….

“You need to end it now, Kylie Rachel Falls. Today.”

“Jeez. Do I sound that bossy when I tell you what to do?”

“More.”

“Sorry.” She was uneasily aware that Janie might be right about ending this sooner rather than later. She was feeling pretty floaty, even with her toes digging into designer wool beneath her.
I don’t want to quit, damn it.
She felt like stamping her tootsies hard. Another bad sign.

“Don’t apologize for caring.” Her sister abruptly sighed and stopped pushing the issue. “Maybe I need you to tell me what to do sometimes.”

Kylie noticed for the first time how odd Janie looked. Her eyes were shiny, her face pink. Was she ill? Did she have a fever? “Are you okay?” she asked, alarmed.

“No, I’m not. I feel terrible.” She sank onto the futon-sofa.

Kylie sat beside her and placed the back of her hand against Janie’s forehead. “You
are
warm.”

Janie pushed her hand away. “Not that kind of terrible. It’s a guy.”

“Oh.” Kylie relaxed a little, though the new worry whirred to life inside her—this one not about her sister’s lungs, but about her heart. “Who is he?”

“Promise you won’t yell?”

“Of course. I’m your sister. I love and fully support you.”

“It’s Seth Taylor. The reporter from
Inside Phoenix
.”

“Are you nuts?”

“What happened to ‘I love and fully support you’?”

“You can’t date a reporter writing a story about you. And how did that happen anyway? You tried to get him kicked off the assignment.”

“We worked it out. He went to the skating party, returned to ask more questions and take more pictures. He’s tuned in to Personal Touch now.”

“And to you, you seem to think. Look, reporters have to act tuned in. It’s a technique. He needs you to trust him, to relax and confide juicy tidbits. And we’ve got a few right now.”

“Seth’s not like that. He’s really very tenderhearted. Peanut brittle crust, soft caramel center.”

“Uh-oh. When you start with the candy metaphors, Janie Marie, I know we’re in trouble.” Janie tended to idealize the men she fell for. “You’re too trusting. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I don’t intend to get hurt.” But she sounded absolutely bereft and looked pale as glue.

“You want me to talk you out of it?”

“When I’m around him, I feel alive and so hopeful.”

“That’s lust and adrenaline. You’ve felt this way before.”

“Not like this. Liam never really paid that much attention to me. Even before he went to Peru. And I knew Richard wouldn’t stay past the gig. Seth is
there.
Present. Focused.”

“It’s infatuation, it’s wishful thinking, it’s…”

It was awful to see Janie grow to need these guys, then be crushed when they left. If only she were more self-sufficient, less vulnerable. Janie’s misery with men had made Kylie even more committed to not get serious about anyone until she was absolutely ready, careerwise, and then she would go slow, slow, slow.

“Now he seems a bit unsettled, but I think that’s his job situation. I’ve figured out that he’s a Scared Single. There was a heartbreak he doesn’t want to talk about.”

“Sounds like Mountain Climber Derrick. What did you call him? A Wounded Loner? You can’t fix these guys. Remember your plan. You’re waiting until you’re ready and then you’ll find an appropriate match. Work up a Mate Check profile and do the math.”

“I did a profile,” Janie said sheepishly.

“You did?”

“It turned out…decent.”

“You cheated, didn’t you?”

“A little.” She shrugged, looking miserable and hopeful at the same time. “It’s not all in a profile, you know. There are other considerations.”

“What would you tell a client who said that?” Kylie spoke as gently as she could. She’d never seen Janie quite so overwrought over a guy.

“Know yourself. Know your partner. Dream dreams anchored in reality.” She looked down.

“And what counts is compatibility, right? Not the twinkle in his eye or the way he says your name like his life depends on it.”

“Yeah…the twinkle and the name thing.”

She sounded so sad that Kylie’s heart ached. “If I thought it would help, I’d tell you to just sleep with him. After the story is out, of course. But would it help?”

“I’m not sure.”

“It’s risky to get close to a reporter. They’re always on duty. You get cozy, mention the lawsuit or the money troubles, and he’d have to look into it. Then where would we be?”

“You’re right, I guess.” Janie shook her head, as if coming to her senses. “And for all those reasons. He’s a reporter, he could be a Wounded Loner, I cheated on our profiles. I’m probably deluding myself. I’m as smitten as Cole.” She gave a watery smile. “I’ll let it go.” She sounded determined, but she looked as though she’d accepted a life sentence of grief.

Kylie leaned over to hug her. “You’ll find the right guy when the time is right, sweetie. I know you will.”

“Thanks for being here for me.” Janie looked her over with newly sad eyes. “What am I going to do when you move?”

The words hit like a punch in Kylie’s already upset stomach.

“I’ll miss you, Kylie Rachel. So much.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” Tears burned, but she fought them down. No point in getting hysterical. “I’ll just boss you around long-distance. Easy.”

Janie barely smiled.

“But that’s not happening yet. I’m still here for a while.”
Only a couple more weeks.
Kylie forced steadiness in her voice. “We’ve got a lawsuit to nix. And there are business details to settle. Who knows, I may never be able to leave.” The words gave her an odd spurt of hope.
Don’t leave. Never leave. Stay right here.
She forced away that thought.

“I know why you’re joking, Kylie, but it’s okay to feel sad about saying goodbye. You love me and Phoenix and your clients and your life. Leaving is hard.”

She felt that desperate long-ago pain again from deep inside—the Patti pain that she’d felt with Cole—and she fought against it like mad. It made her feel exposed against her will, open to any passing hurt.

“It’s only for a while, really, so don’t get too upset,” she said. “I’ll start my company again in a few years. Maybe I’ll come back to Phoenix.”

“I’d like that,” Janie said, cheering slightly.

Being practical, though, the business contacts she’d make through S-Mickey-B would make it far more lucrative and challenging to stay in L.A. Coming back to Phoenix would be a step backward. Looking into her sister’s sorrowful face, though, she almost didn’t care.

“I want what’s best for you,” Janie said.

“I know you do.” Kylie hugged her again, so filled with love she had to blink madly to clear her vision. She wished she could hug away the hurt, the way she used to do when they were kids. How could Janie allow herself to feel so much pain? Kylie was lucky to have more self-control.

She released her sister. “So how about Cole and I fill you in on the Brandon meeting?”

“Not today,” Janie sighed, swiping at her eyes and sniffing. “I’m kind of worn-out now. Let’s meet on Monday. We can do the business plan then, too. Besides, you need to talk to Cole.” Her look was stern, then something she must have seen on Kylie’s face made her say, “Unless there’s something else going on? Something more I should know about?”

“Of course not.” Kylie gave a dismissive snort and her heart stalled on a beat, but she rose and went to the door so her intuitive sister wouldn’t pin her down and make her confess the feelings roiling inside her, cruelly refusing to behave.

They walked into the living room, where Janie said goodbye, and left.

Then Kylie turned to Cole, going to him, his features otherworldly in the blue glow of the TV. He was so dear to her. He looked so right there on her sofa with his temporary dog at his side.

She curled up beside him, loving how perfectly she fit the hollow of his body, and how warm he was and how good he smelled. Radar jumped over Cole’s lap to snuggle into hers, completing the picture of domestic bliss.

Why couldn’t they stick with the till-Deborah-returns plan? What difference would a few more days make?

Cole kissed her hair and shifted to look into her eyes. “Janie forgot her book.”

“What book?”

“The one she went into your office with you to get.”

“Oh, that. We were just talking.”

“About what? She looked pretty deflated when she left.”

“She’s sad about me leaving.” She didn’t want to tell him that Janie had demanded Kylie stop seeing him.

“Oh. Yeah. Me, too.”

Her heart swelled and ached with agony. Cole would miss her. That was a good thing and a bad thing at the same time. How did Janie stand all this pain? “Cole, I…” Kylie didn’t know what to say to him.

He seemed uncomfortable that he’d revealed that reaction. “At least L.A.’s not far away. You’ll visit each other.”

“Of course. The fact is we weren’t seeing as much of each other as we should, considering how close we live. We go for Christmas with our parents in Chicago, so we’ll still have that.”

Though it sounded far from enough right now, as she rested against Cole’s warm chest, a dog curled cozily in her lap, her sister’s hug still on her skin. In fact, Janie was the one who hounded Kylie for dinners and lunches and movies together. Janie bore the burden of their relationship. And that was wrong. “I’ll just have to come home a lot,” Kylie said, promising herself she would. “Gotta look out for my little sister, right?”

“Of course.”

“Especially now. She’s hot for the wrong guy.”

“Janie’s very wise about relationships.” He kissed the top of her head. “She’s an expert, remember?”

“Not for herself, I’m afraid.” She sighed, feeling as though her brain was about to explode. “I wish she could do what we’re doing,” she said, not sure she even meant that.

“And what are we doing?” he asked, something flaring in his eyes. She couldn’t tell if he wanted her to minimize this or make it bigger than it was.

“Having sex and letting it be enough.” She held her breath, waiting for him to respond, her heart pounding some crazy Morse code of helpless hope.

He hesitated, but finally said, “Yeah.”

“We’re lucky, aren’t we, Cole?”

He ducked her gaze. “Yeah, lucky.” But there was sadness in his voice. He wanted more. It wasn’t so simple for him, either. Were she to ask him if he wanted to stop now, he’d say no. It was as plain as the way she’d tightened her arms around his ribs.

“Kinda cutting off my breathing there.” He patted her hand.

“Sorry.” She loosened her grip on him.

“Nah, I liked it. Just didn’t want to lose consciousness.”

“Sure. I can understand that.”

They knew what they were doing, right? They could quit anytime. Just not in the middle of
Last Comic Standing.