“She is. She’s the only one in my family who doesn’t refer to me as a free spirit.”

  “I can practically hear the air quotes when you say that.”

  Kathleen laughed, a low, quiet sound. “So that experience you had…it formed you.”

  “It did. I started thinking a lot about who decides things. What the practical effects of pressure are. How society is constructed. How expectations overrule our own wishes and sometimes even needs. I think it’s part of what led me to law school. It definitely led me to my undergrad degree.”

  “Which was?”

  He paused. She would think him even more pretentious than she probably already did. “Philosophy.”

  “Wow. Heavy.”

  “What, philosophy?”

  She shifted, the motion rustling the bedclothes. “All of it.”

  His breath caught in his throat. Too late, he remembered that her father was a professor. He must have sounded like a complete jerk. “Too heavy?”

  “No.” Kathleen rubbed her face against the smooth cotton of the pillowcase.

  Russell exhaled audibly. “Good.”

  She felt a little kick in her heart at his obvious relief. “Were you worried that I was going to boot you out of my bed for being smart and self-aware?”

  “Is that what you think of me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not pompous and self-important, then?”

  “No.”

  He moved in the darkness, doing something that made the covers slide down off her shoulder, chilly air sliding down her neck. She tugged them back up, inching closer to the warmth of his body. Seriously, this man was a radiator.

  “Are you cold again?”

  “Maybe a little, yeah.”

  “Come here then.” His arm wrapped around her, rolling to his back and pulling her onto his chest. He pulled the covers up around her neck and smoothed her hair in long, delicious strokes. “Better?”

  Kathleen sighed, her muscles relaxing against his as heat penetrated her body. “Yeah. Are you always this warm?”

  “I guess.”

  “It’s nice. I’m always cold.”

  “Happy to be of service.”

  “What was young Russell like?”

  “Enough about me. Did you have a big formative experience?”

  Okay. Another deflection. Fair enough. She thought about his question. “I guess you already know it. I wasn’t the same as the rest of my family. Didn’t fit in. And being different wasn’t a good thing.”

  “Free spirit.”

  “Exactly. It’s weird. It’s one of those things that should sound like a compliment but isn’t intended as one. Like those awful people who say things like social justice warrior or virtue signaling.”

  The hand stroking her hair stilled for a moment, then continued. “What did you take away from that?”

  “Eventually? That it’s okay to make your own family. Find your people. People like Alicia and Wendy. That I wasn’t wrong to be me, to be an artist, to be emotional.” She laughed. “To make scenes for a living. Literally.”

  “That sounds like a good solution.”

  “It was. Wasn’t easy, though.”

  “How so?”

  “My family is…” Kathleen groped for the right words. “You ever meet people who talk a good game about something, claim to be a particular thing but are really fooling themselves?”

  “All the time.”

  “Well, my parents have a thing they always say. ‘Anything for family.’”

  “And they don’t mean it?”

  “I think they mean it. Or they think they mean it. For big things, anyway. Like I know if I was in trouble and needed them, they would drop everything to help. But for everyday support? The little stuff? Not so much. Or they use it as a guilt-stick to whack me with whenever I can’t go to a family function because I’m working. Like I should…lose my job because they’ve decided they want to celebrate something on a Saturday night.”

  “That sounds ridiculous.”

  Kathleen smoothed her hand across his chest, tracing patterns on his skin with her fingertips. “All my siblings have nine-to-five jobs. My parents don’t understand that I can’t just say, ‘Call the understudy, I have to go to my nephew’s birthday party.’ Or if I’m doing tv or a movie and have a shoot when the family wants to schedule something. I can’t say no to work, usually. I’m not exactly a star. Any production could easily re-cast the smaller roles I get.”

  “Your parents’ imagination or their understanding is severely limited if they can’t grasp the concept that some people’s work hours and demands are different. And that your career is important to you.” Russell’s voice had dropped low, rumbling his chest under her cheek. Soothing.

  “I think it’s just avoidance. I think when I started getting professional gigs, they decided it was a phase, something that I’d either work my way through or, more likely, fail at and be forced to get more normal work.”

  “Supportive parenting at its finest.” The disgust in his voice made a flare of defensiveness rise in her, then she blinked and laughed. He was right.

  “Oh, and don’t get me started on how they’ll be when they finally find out for sure I don’t want to have kids. I think they already have suspicions.”

  “You don’t?”

  Kathleen shook her head, knowing that even though he couldn’t see the gesture, he’d feel the movement. “Never have. Some Catholic I am. I mean, I love kids. My nieces and nephews are great. I just prefer being able to give them back.”

  “I know exactly what you mean.”

  “You do?” She lifted her head as if she could look at his face, invisible in the dark.

  “Yeah. It was the reason my ex-wife filed for divorce. She wanted kids, I didn’t.”

  There it was. Another thing he usually didn’t tell people. And here he was spilling his guts after barely more than twenty-four hours of knowing this woman. Maybe it was the hypnotic way her fingers ran across his chest. Soothing and arousing at the same time. Transforming his iron defenses to water.

  “You hadn’t talked about it?”

  “We talked about it. She just thought I would change my mind.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a good strategy.”

  “No.”

  “Did she try to pressure you to change your mind?”

  He swallowed, his throat thick. “She did.”

  “And given what you just told me about how you feel about should, I doubt that went over very well.”

  His eyes squeezed tight against the memories. “It didn’t.”

  “I’m sorry. It must have been difficult.”

  “It was. It takes a lot to make me lose my temper. But…let’s just say there was a lot of uncharacteristic yelling on both sides. Anyway, it’s over. She remarried. Has a kid now. I hope she’s happy.” Russell didn’t like the hard edge in his own voice when he talked about Therese. He hadn’t thought he had much emotion left over from that period of his life.

  He guessed he was wrong.

  Kathleen shifted on his chest and soft lips pressed against his skin. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. But I’m selfishly happy that you were free to be with me tonight.”

  “Just tonight?”

  “Well, I don’t want to presume. That wouldn’t be a good look, given the conversation. What you said about pressure and should.”

  Russell blinked. “Given that I want to spend more time with you, that never even occurred to me.”

  “That would be nice.”

  “What should we do tomorrow?”

  “Should? I thought we were against that.” Her voice was starting to slide into a low, sleepy murmur again.

  He laughed and she moved, her silky hair sliding over his chest and shoulder. “Okay, then. What are we doing tomorrow?” he said.

  “Well, it’s today.” The barest mumble. She was fading.

  “True. What are we doing today?”

  She yawned. “Ask me again when it’s light out?”

  He stroked her hair again and she sighed, snuggling even closer, her leg on his thigh. Arousing, yes, but her body, warm now and molded against his, was oddly lulling. As if she had taken his hand and drawn him down into the warm darkness of sleep behind her.

  Chapter 10

  Kathleen’s eyelids lost the battle to shut out the bright sunshine as consciousness slowly took hold. She had forgotten to close the curtains. Stretching, she felt slightly sore between her legs and realized she’d also forgotten something—or someone—else.

  Russell.

  With a gasp, she rolled over, expecting to see an empty pillow next to hers. His twinkling brown eyes met hers.

  “Good morning, Irish.”

  Kathleen rubbed her eyes. “I thought you might have gone.”

  “Do you want me—”

  “No. I want you to stay. You can stop asking me that question. Trust that if I want to kick you out, I’ll do it.”

  He nodded his head, his overnight stubble rasping against the pillowcase, reminding her of the night before and their late-night confessions. “Okay, then.”

  “How long have you been awake?”

  “Less than an hour.”

  “An hour? Weren’t you bored?”

  “No.”

  “What were you doing?”

  He looked off to one side, no longer meeting her gaze. “Is it weird or creepy to say that most of the time I was watching you sleep?”

  She thought for a moment. “If I didn’t know you…If we hadn’t spent half the night getting to know each other—and not just in the carnal way,” she said as a wicked smile began to light his eyes, “then yeah, it might be. As it is…it’s kind of sweet.”

  “Okay, then.” He rolled onto his back and appeared to consult the ceiling, then looked sideways at her. “Can I get a kiss good morning?”

  “With morning breath included?”

  “Closed mouth. For both our sakes.”

  Kathleen scooted over and pressed her lips chastely against his. His eyes dipped down as she pulled away and she realized her hair was brushing against his chest.

  “That feels almost unbearably erotic,” he whispered.

  Kathleen melted. Her knees pressed together, intensifying the sudden surge of heat, pressure, and moisture between her legs. “Okay, what should we do about that?”

  Three sharp raps sounded on the hotel room door, making her sit up abruptly, her palm slamming into her chest, heart pounding.

  Wendy’s voice, muffled by the door in between them, rang out. “Kathleen, breakfast is only served for another hour. If you want to eat, you’d better get a move on.”

  Kathleen gulped air, trying to slow her hammering heart. “Damn it, Wendy, you scared me to death.”

  “Sorry. You coming down?”

  She glanced at Russell, and his stomach emitted a sudden, unmistakable growl. He gave her a stricken look and she suppressed a giggle. “Yeah. Be down in a few. Save me a muffin or something in case I’m too slow.”

  “Okay.”

  “Thanks, Wendy,” she called brightly. Go away now, please.

  “You want me to save something for Russell too?” Wendy’s sly tones penetrated the wood.

  Russell’s hand slapped over his eyes, his mouth stretching in a grimace. “Yes, please,” he called out. “Something far more substantial than a muffin. Thank you.”

  “You got it.” Wendy’s cackle receded along with her footsteps.

  So this is the walk of shame.

  Russell couldn’t get to his own room without crossing the lobby to get to the other wing of the little hotel. His shirt was wrinkled and untucked, his tie was rolled up in the pocket of his jacket—no, one of his jackets. He had two: the one he had loaned to Kathleen for their chilly walk outside two nights ago, and the one he’d worn last night.

  Wearing one jacket and carrying the other only heightened his sense of the ridiculous. But he’d far rather take the first wave of ribbing than subject Kathleen to it. He felt protective of her, of their night together.

  “Russell!” Colin’s voice boomed out of the dining room and Russell’s eyes squeezed shut. He forced a smile onto his face and faced his friend, who strode into the lobby with a broad grin on his face.

  “Hey mate. Sleep well?” Colin asked.

  “Yes. Did you? Now that you’re a happily married man?”

  “My slumber—once achieved—was outstanding.” Colin’s grin shaded towards smug.

  “Good. I need to get changed.”

  “Indeed, you do.” Colin’s grin, if anything, only stretched wider as he surveyed Russell’s crumpled appearance.

  Russell moved to go, then turned back to his friend, a finger leveled at his chest. “Don’t give Kathleen shit.”

  Colin raised his hands, his eyes alight with interest. “I have no intention of giving anyone shit. I’m merely happy for you both. Kathleen’s a good egg.”

  Russell’s pointing finger dipped and he shifted the extra jacket on his arm. “Yeah. Yeah, she really is. The best.” One corner of his mouth twisted to the side. He felt like a goofy teenager who had just found out his first crush returned his feelings.

  Colin waved him away. “Okay then. Off you pop. The sooner you change the sooner you can see her again.”

  Kathleen whipped a tee shirt over her head and tugged on a soft, old pair of jeans, rolling the cuffs a few times before jamming her feet into flip flops and heading for the door. Grabbing her keycard, she looked at her reflection as she passed the bathroom.

  The world’s fastest shower, with only time to twist her wet hair into a bun on top of her head and no time at all for makeup wasn’t exactly her best look, but she was starving. It would have to do.

  Running down the curving staircase, her sandals flap-flapping, she steeled herself for the inevitable jokes. She was used to them by now. There were few secrets in any production and fewer inhibitions. Lewd jokes and sly comments about who was hooking up with who was practically a requirement, something issued to you along with your union card.

  But Russell wasn’t used to that. He was a professor. He wasn’t anything like her dad, but he had to feel something for his position. Law professor. A big deal. She was pretty sure ribald, explicit teasing about his latest date wasn’t something that happened in the faculty lounge.

  Or if it did, it probably came with a lawsuit attached.

  No, he wasn’t ready for that.

  Slowing her pace as she walked through the lobby and into the dining room, she schooled her features into an open, innocent expression. No guilt, no shame—not that she felt any about last night, but she did feel guilty that she may have opened Russell up for ridicule.

  Maybe they should have gone to his room instead of hers. That way she could have been the one to walk across the lobby, maybe catch the attention of the other guests, deflect their jokes and blunt them.

  Anyway, no help for that now. She looked around at the people left in the dining room. The tables that had been pushed together for their dinners to create one long table were now scattered about the room, which was only about half-full. Some people must have risen early and gone out. Maybe left altogether.

  Kathleen felt a pang. She was scheduled to leave this afternoon. She guessed Russell would have to leave today too. But how soon? How much more time did she have with him?

  Well, she would just make the most of whatever time she had left. Turning to the buffet, she put scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast onto a plate and poured herself a mug of coffee.

  “Kathleen, join us.” Alicia’s voice floated over the quiet conversation in the room.

  Kathleen moved over to where her friend was sitting at a small table at right angles to her husband instead of across. They were holding hands.

  “You don’t want a third wheel on the morning after your wedding,” Kathleen said, eyeing the other tables, looking for one that was empty.

  “Nonsense,” Colin said, giving his wife a mischievous glance. “We have our whole lives now, don’t we, darling?”

  Alicia pushed the chair nearest to her out with her toes. “Sit.”

  Kathleen sat, placing her breakfast on the table and spreading a napkin across her lap. “Well, thanks. And good morning…Mrs. St. Cyr.”

  “Good morning to you.” Alicia’s mouth curved provocatively.

  “Get it all out of your system now, 'Lis. And fast.”

  Alicia gave her a curious look. “What do you mean?”

  “Russell’s not an actor. Don’t give him stick for last night.”

  “I didn’t mean anything. I hope you two had a good time.” She glanced at Colin, who seemed to be suppressing a smile. He looked at Kathleen with twinkling eyes.

  “We—well, I did. What’s eating you, Mr. St. Cyr?” Kathleen asked, taking in his smug look while shoveling eggs into her mouth and taking a bite of bacon.

  “Just that you’re so protective of him.”

  Kathleen chewed and swallowed, looking him over carefully. “Yeah?”

  “He appears to feel the same way, given what he told me when I saw him just a few minutes ago.”

  Russell took a deep breath and held it before letting it out slowly as he entered the dining room. Scanning the tables, he saw Kathleen sitting with Colin and Alicia. She appeared surprised by something—she was staring at Colin, her eyes round.

  With dread squeezing his heart, Russell went down the buffet, filling his plate until it practically groaned with food. Walking it over to the table where Kathleen and the others sat, he drank in the sight of her, all freshly scrubbed, no makeup, no fancy clothes, just Kathleen. Her hair was twisted up, giving him a view of the nape of her neck. He wanted to press his lips to that sensitive place. Instead, he settled himself in the empty seat at the table and gave a forced smile to the others. It felt weird to pretend like nothing had happened, but he wasn’t about to presume to touch Kathleen in front of their friends, let alone kiss her. “Everyone good this morning?”

  “Lovely, thank you.” Alicia drained her coffee cup. “Didn’t you want coffee, Russell?”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15