The Best for Last (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO

A
rmand, her next door neighbor Viola's old cat, was lying across Kitty's driveway as she pulled up to her house. She flicked her brights on in an attempt to get the cat to move out of the way, but Armand just stared back at her and yawned.

Great. First, it was her friends. Now even the local cat was giving her attitude.

Kitty was pretty certain Viola wouldn't take too kindly to her cat being run over, so she parked her BMW convertible (a luxury splurge after a particularly good real estate year) halfway down the driveway, a good three yards away from the slumbering feline.

She'd just killed the car lights when Armand stretched out his hind legs, then slowly sauntered his way back to Viola's.

“Sure, yeah,
now
you get out of the way,” Kitty muttered, locking her car door. She glanced over at Viola's house. It was almost eleven, but the living room lights were still on.

Viola Pantini had been Kitty's late grandmother's best friend. The two of them had founded the Gray Flamingos, a local senior citizen activist watch group. The Flamingos liked to go around town wearing matching T-shirts and protesting anything they thought infringed on their rights. Like the time The Harbor House, Whispering Bay's fanciest restaurant, had done away with their early bird senior special. The restaurant's owner had been forced to bring it back after the Flamingos had staged a (somewhat) peaceful sit-in blocking the restaurant's parking lot.

Kitty briefly thought about knocking on Viola's door and asking for her advice. Viola hadn't just been her grandmother's friend, she was now Kitty's friend, as well. She was dating Steve's uncle Gus, so she knew a little about the Pappas family dynamics.

Did Viola think Steve was a lost cause, too? Kitty wasn't sure she wanted the answer to that. Plus, despite the fact that the lights were on, it was too late to intrude on Viola. At least, that's what Kitty told herself as she opened the front door to the house she shared with Steve.

She stepped inside the living room and was immediately hit with the aroma of fresh paint and seasoned wood. Kitty loved this old house. She and Steve had spent the past ten months renovating it. Built back in the 1920s, it was a one-story Spanish Colonial Revival that had belonged to her grandmother. After her death, Gram had left the house to her only daughter, Kitty's mother, but in a rare generous gesture, Mom had turned around and given Kitty the house.

She made her way to the end of the hallway down to the master bedroom where Steve sat up in bed, surrounded by a pile of papers. He wore a pair of black silk pajama bottoms and his reading glasses. The light from the bedside table cast an attractive glow over the muscles of his bare chest and his dark cropped hair sported a slight hint of gray at the temples. Frida was right. Steve was six foot three and two hundred pounds of pure male gorgeousness. The whole scene looked like something out of a GQ cover shoot. How was it that men seemed to peak physically in their late thirties? Life was so unfair.

He glanced over at her. “Hey. I didn't hear you come in.”

“Thanks to my super ninja skills.”

He grinned, then took off the reading glasses and tossed them on the bedside table. Seeing him now, completely at home in her bed, looking at her as if he'd been waiting all his life for her to come walking through the door, it seemed impossible to believe he didn't love her. She was a lovable person, wasn't she?

“How was Bunco?”

“Bunco was…good. We spent most of the night talking about you.”

“Of course you did,” he said, still smiling. Then his smile faded. “Really?”

Okay, so maybe she shouldn't have said that. She tried to make light of her slip up. “What do you think, silly?”

“I don't think your friends like me much. Well, except maybe Frida, but that's because I buy coffee at her place every day.”

“My friends like you.”
Sort of
.

He made a sexy, grumpy sound.

Kitty slipped off her shoes and pointed to the paper in his hands. “What do you have there?”

“A resume.” Steve was part owner of Pappas-Hernandez Construction, a company he and an old army buddy, Dave Hernandez, had founded. Steve was in charge of the north Florida office, while Dave ran the Tampa branch of the operation.

A high school dropout with nothing more than a GED under his belt, Steve had worked his way up the construction ladder to own his own company, eventually teaming up with his third ex-wife, Terrie, to make a fortune in the Florida real estate construction boom. Kitty was proud of him and his accomplishments. She was also extremely happy that he'd severed all professional ties to Terrie, a real estate attorney. Kitty cringed whenever she thought of the woman. Terrie was beautiful (not that Kitty was jealous or anything), but she was also pushy as hell. Kitty would rather wrestle a gator than cross paths with Terrie Hargrove.

“I'm interviewing this guy tomorrow for a supervisory position,” Steve continued. “Tom Donalan. Ever heard of him? He's living in Atlanta right now, but he's a local.”

“Sure, I know Tom. He's Reverend Donalan's son. He was a few years behind me in school. His ex-wife moved back to town last year. She owns that new retro boutique next to The Bistro.” When Steve didn't say anything, Kitty added, “Are you going to hire him?” She hoped the answer was yes. Tom's ex, Lauren, was a sweetheart. At Kitty's urging, she'd recently been added to the Bunco Babes' sub list.

“He's got an impressive resume. A fancy degree from the University of Florida and some great work experience. But I'm not sure I can pay him what he's probably used to.”

Kitty bit her bottom lip. “He has a son, Henry. I think he's ten, maybe eleven. I'm pretty sure Tom wants to make this move so he can be closer to his family.”

“Do you know everyone and everything that's going on in this town?” Steve asked.

“Pretty much,” she admitted. Sometimes it was hard for Steve to understand small town dynamics. He'd grown up in Cocoa Beach, another small Florida beach town, but he'd joined the army when he was nineteen and had spent most of his adult life in Tampa.

“If he wants to move back to town to be near his ex and their son, then maybe I have some leverage after all.” Steve glanced down at the resume. “So, you're basically vetting this guy, huh?”

“Absolutely. Tom's good as gold.”

“Then if he wants the job, it's his.” He carelessly swept the papers onto the floor and patted the empty space next to him. “Now get your pretty little bum in bed.”

“Mmmm…that sounds awful bossy.” She went into the bathroom to wash her face and came out a couple of minutes later, wearing her rattiest pajamas, the ones that screamed
Not Tonight!

Steve didn't seem to notice her less-than-sexy look, or if he did, he wasn't turned off by it. “I thought you liked bossy. But you can be the boss tonight if you want.” He laced his hands behind his head, causing the muscles in his biceps to bulge. “I surrender.”

Kitty gulped. She'd have to be blind to miss the growing erection barely covered by the thin black silk of those pajama bottoms.

It wasn't that she didn't want to have sex. Kind of the opposite, in fact. But at the moment, she wanted to talk more. If she allowed herself to be distracted by him, she'd end up giving in. Sure, she'd go to sleep happy, but still no more sure of where their relationship was going than when she'd walked through the door tonight.

The thing was she wasn't sure how to broach the subject. She could always just come out and ask him. But…what if he confirmed her worst nightmare? What if he said, no, he didn't love her? Could she continue living with him knowing that they didn't have a future? The past eleven months had been the happiest of her life. Was she ready to throw that away?

She crawled onto the bed. “I got a text from my dad tonight. He's coming down tomorrow and wants to meet us for dinner.”

Steve placed his mouth on the sensitive skin under her jaw. “That's nice,” he murmured.

God he smelled good.
Concentrate, Kit!

“I think he has a new girlfriend,” she said, starting to breathe a little heavily. If he used his tongue, she'd be a goner.

He hesitated for a brief second before he began nuzzling her earlobe. “Is he bringing her along?” His warm breath sent a current of electricity down her spine. Or what was left of it. All he had to do was kiss her and she practically turned to jelly.

“Yep.” Despite her better judgement, she angled her neck for easier access. “I wish he'd get married again.”

Steve froze. So much for the tongue action. Kitty wasn't sure if she was disappointed or not. “You do?” he asked cautiously.

“If he met the right woman, then, yes, of course. He's not getting any younger, you know. Think how sad it would be if he ended up all alone.”

Okay, so maybe she was laying it on a little thick, but surely he
had
to get what she was hinting at.

“He has you,” Steve said, retreating to his side of the bed. His voice definitely sounded strained. Or was she imagining it?

#

Steve watched out of the corner of his eye as Kitty climbed under the covers. “Well, yeah, but it's not the same,” she said. “He's only sixty-five. He should find a nice lady to enjoy his retirement with.”

He nodded. Mainly because he didn't know what else to say or do. He'd only met Kitty's father a few times, but Alan Burke didn't seem like the settling down type. His last girlfriend had barely been legal. A real looker, but not much in the brains department. It was kind of pathetic, really. A guy should know when he was being ridiculous. Of course, it had probably been a mutually reciprocal relationship. Still, he'd been embarrassed for Kitty.

“Don't you agree?” she said, staring back at him with her big brown eyes. A man could get lost in those eyes.

He remembered the first time he saw her, standing near the azalea bushes on the edge of her property. She'd worn a sundress, flimsy enough that he could make out the curves of the sweetest ass he'd ever had the privilege to lay eyes on. She wasn't classically beautiful like her friend Shea. Or overtly sexy, like her other best friend Pilar. But there was a sweetness about her. Her smile lit up a room. She was quirky, and smart, and nice. And when he kissed her later that night, it was as if the sky had opened up and he was drowning in sunshine.

He wouldn't have appreciated her when he was in his twenties. He'd been too much of a selfish asshole back then. But he liked to think he was smart enough now to know a good thing when he saw it. And Kitty Burke was definitely the best thing that had ever happened to him.

After a few long seconds, he realized she was waiting for him to say something.

“Um, sure. I agree.”

She snapped her fingers by his face. “Earth to Steve Pappas. Do you even know what you just agreed to?”

“How about we agree to talk about something else?” He reached out and scooped her up, laying her along his side. He wasn't an idiot. He could read the signals. Something was troubling her. She might not want sex tonight but that didn't mean he couldn't do the cuddle thing.
Funny
. He'd never been a cuddle kind of guy, until he'd met her.

“What's wrong, baby?”

She stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“You seem preoccupied. Is this really just about your dad and his new girlfriend? Everything at work all right?”

“Work's good,” she said. She sighed and burrowed in closer, bringing his erection back to life.

He gritted his teeth and tried to infuse a little humor in the situation. “What? Did you lose at Bunco then?”

He felt her hesitate. “Not exactly.”

He cradled the top of her head with the palm of his hand, then ran his fingers down her wavy auburn hair. Like a lot of women, she complained about her hair. It was either too curly or didn't do what she wanted when she wanted it to. But he thought it suited her perfectly.

“You know…our one year anniversary is coming up next week,” she said.

A viselike sensation gripped his chest. What had he eaten tonight? Cold pizza. Not the most nutritious of meals. He wasn't getting any younger. It was probably time he started being more careful about his diet.

“Maybe we can do something special?” she added.

“How about Hawaii? We can rent the same place we did before.” He'd taken her to Hawaii once and she'd loved it. They hadn't taken a trip in a while. A week in paradise with nothing to do but lie out on the beach and have some marathon sex. Just thinking about it made his indigestion ease off.

“Sure,” she said without much enthusiasm. “If that's what you want.”

“Or, we could do Europe. Spain is beautiful this time of year.” There were beaches in Spain, too. And beds. Yep. Spain would work.

He felt her shrug. “That sounds…nice.”

Nice.
The back of his eyelids began to itch.

“It doesn't matter what we do,” Kitty said softly, “as long as we're together.”

The melancholy tone in her voice made his acid reflux come back with a vengeance. Which made absolutely no sense.

And then, like an unexpected hammer to the side of his thick skull, he suddenly
got it
.

He'd mentally congratulated himself just a few minutes ago for not being an asshole, but he'd been premature. It didn't take a PhD to figure out what she really wanted for their anniversary.

She wanted it all
.

Marriage and babies, the usual stuff. He'd told her on their second date that he didn't plan to get married ever again. Three strikes and you're out. At the time, she'd laughed and told him she didn't plan on being his fourth mistake.

But that had been almost a year ago and things between them had been good. He'd be lying to himself if he said he hadn't thought about marriage. But the thought of fucking up another relationship…and this time with
her
. He didn't think he could go through that.