things?”
“How about sex?”
Her eyes widened. She seemed more interested in this topic than any of the others. “Okay,” she agreed. “Why don’t you start the conversation?”
Not fair. He thought for a moment. How should he start off without sounding like a total jerk? “I love having sex with you.”
She blinked. “I love having sex with you too.”
Not knowing what to say next and wanting to get down to business, Kenny grinned. “This seems a little childish, doesn’t it?”
“Childish? Do you honestly think children have conversations about sex?”
He sucked in a breath, thankful for the cool breeze from the ceiling fan. “I suppose not.”
“I’m getting the feeling you’d rather go straight to the bedroom than talk with me for a few minutes.”
“That’s not true,” he lied. Or maybe he wasn’t lying. “I find you extremely . . . interesting.”
She smiled and relaxed her posture. “Why is that?”
The lady was conniving, that was for sure. “Why?” he repeated, stalling for time. “Because you are.”
Her smile faded. “You’re just saying that to make it easier for you to get into my pants.”
Bingo. “No, I’m not. I told you on Saturday that I thought you were a good mother, and a hell of a jewelry designer.”
“Yes, you did, but is that all about me that’s interesting?”
“No, of course not.” He paused. “I find you attractive, funny, sexy, and you’re a great cook.”
The smile was back. “The muffins were from a mix.”
“Okay, scratch the great cook part.”
She laughed.
“Don’t worry. The fact that you have a nice ass makes up for the cooking part.”
“That’s not something that makes me interesting.”
“That depends on who you’re asking. And did I mention you’re sexy?”
“Yes, I believe you did.”
“Your turn.”
Her hand went to her hair, twisting a strand around her finger. It looked as though she was stalling as well. After a lengthy silence, she dropped her hand to her lap. “You’re right. This is childish.”
“Not so fast. This was your idea. Remember?” He gave her another minute and when she didn’t say anything, he said, “All right, I suppose I’m not all that interesting.”
“Yes, you are. You’re extremely sexy and funny, in a sarcastic sort of way. You’re a talented cartoonist, good with kids, and a wonderful lover.”
The words “wonderful lover” echoed through his brain to inflate his ego. “Sounds like we’re the perfect couple.”
Uh, oh. Careful, pal. It’s sex and nothing more than sex. Don’t ruin it by saying stupid things like that.
Holly leaned forward. Her eyes seemed to be searching his face, his soul. “Kenny, are you still in love with Karen?”
His chest tightened with the acute sense of loss. He swallowed the feeling of despair in his throat. “Holly, I really don’t want to talk about my dead wife with you.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It was insensitive of me.”
Kenny couldn’t do more than stare right through her, trying to block the increasing pain.
“I thought since we’d become . . . friends,” she said, “that maybe you’d feel comfortable talking with me.”
“Friends?” He pinned her with a look. “We both know why I’m here. And being ‘friends’ has nothing to do with it.”
She stiffened. “My mistake.” She stood slowly, keeping her gaze on him. “Well, since there are now no misunderstandings as to why you’re here, we may as well get started.” Skirting past him, she headed toward the hall. “The bedroom is this way.”
Kenny didn’t follow. “Maybe I should leave.”
She turned around, blinking back unshed tears. “I seem to be getting mixed signals here. Does that mean you no longer want to fuck me?”
“Holly, don’t. You don’t have to say those things.” He set his chair in motion and moved toward her. As angry as he was, he couldn’t stand seeing her hurt this way. “Ooh, but I thought you got all hot
“How about sex?”
Her eyes widened. She seemed more interested in this topic than any of the others. “Okay,” she agreed. “Why don’t you start the conversation?”
Not fair. He thought for a moment. How should he start off without sounding like a total jerk? “I love having sex with you.”
She blinked. “I love having sex with you too.”
Not knowing what to say next and wanting to get down to business, Kenny grinned. “This seems a little childish, doesn’t it?”
“Childish? Do you honestly think children have conversations about sex?”
He sucked in a breath, thankful for the cool breeze from the ceiling fan. “I suppose not.”
“I’m getting the feeling you’d rather go straight to the bedroom than talk with me for a few minutes.”
“That’s not true,” he lied. Or maybe he wasn’t lying. “I find you extremely . . . interesting.”
She smiled and relaxed her posture. “Why is that?”
The lady was conniving, that was for sure. “Why?” he repeated, stalling for time. “Because you are.”
Her smile faded. “You’re just saying that to make it easier for you to get into my pants.”
Bingo. “No, I’m not. I told you on Saturday that I thought you were a good mother, and a hell of a jewelry designer.”
“Yes, you did, but is that all about me that’s interesting?”
“No, of course not.” He paused. “I find you attractive, funny, sexy, and you’re a great cook.”
The smile was back. “The muffins were from a mix.”
“Okay, scratch the great cook part.”
She laughed.
“Don’t worry. The fact that you have a nice ass makes up for the cooking part.”
“That’s not something that makes me interesting.”
“That depends on who you’re asking. And did I mention you’re sexy?”
“Yes, I believe you did.”
“Your turn.”
Her hand went to her hair, twisting a strand around her finger. It looked as though she was stalling as well. After a lengthy silence, she dropped her hand to her lap. “You’re right. This is childish.”
“Not so fast. This was your idea. Remember?” He gave her another minute and when she didn’t say anything, he said, “All right, I suppose I’m not all that interesting.”
“Yes, you are. You’re extremely sexy and funny, in a sarcastic sort of way. You’re a talented cartoonist, good with kids, and a wonderful lover.”
The words “wonderful lover” echoed through his brain to inflate his ego. “Sounds like we’re the perfect couple.”
Uh, oh. Careful, pal. It’s sex and nothing more than sex. Don’t ruin it by saying stupid things like that.
Holly leaned forward. Her eyes seemed to be searching his face, his soul. “Kenny, are you still in love with Karen?”
His chest tightened with the acute sense of loss. He swallowed the feeling of despair in his throat. “Holly, I really don’t want to talk about my dead wife with you.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It was insensitive of me.”
Kenny couldn’t do more than stare right through her, trying to block the increasing pain.
“I thought since we’d become . . . friends,” she said, “that maybe you’d feel comfortable talking with me.”
“Friends?” He pinned her with a look. “We both know why I’m here. And being ‘friends’ has nothing to do with it.”
She stiffened. “My mistake.” She stood slowly, keeping her gaze on him. “Well, since there are now no misunderstandings as to why you’re here, we may as well get started.” Skirting past him, she headed toward the hall. “The bedroom is this way.”
Kenny didn’t follow. “Maybe I should leave.”
She turned around, blinking back unshed tears. “I seem to be getting mixed signals here. Does that mean you no longer want to fuck me?”
“Holly, don’t. You don’t have to say those things.” He set his chair in motion and moved toward her. As angry as he was, he couldn’t stand seeing her hurt this way. “Ooh, but I thought you got all hot
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