Manwich

Chapter 6

Chapter Three

Ethan sighed, sweeping his gaze over the familiar room with its potted ferns, dark, carved furniture and bright reds everywhere, from velvet upholstery to damask wallpaper. He and Charlie had found some pleasure in this place. The brothel had for him, however, lost its charms since it had become the only sanctuary for Violette, an innocent, desperate to escape a fate to which her own father had condemned her. And there was no doubt in Ethan’s mind that it was through trickery.

A quarter of an hour later, he heard movement on the stairs. Through the salon doorway, he saw two pairs of women’s heeled boots descending. First, the plump, imposing figure of the madame. Quickly he set down his untouched whiskey and stood, his gaze riveted on the figure following the older woman.

Violette Poole moved with deliberate, careful steps, one pale hand slipping gently along the banister.

His breath caught as the two women reached the bottom and started for the salon. Miss Poole had been made up to entertain him and she wore almost nothing except for a silken, nearly see-through chemise that outlined her full breasts, slim waist and even fuller hips. The ruffled pantalettes she wore ended just below her knees, giving him a hint of her pale smooth calves above the boots.

He ran his gaze back upward to her face, lightly powdered. Pale spots of darker pink blushed her cheeks. The madame had swept the girl’s coppery hair into a mass of riotous sensual curls around her head, showing off the swan-like curve of her neck. Her graceful pale arms hung by her sides. The sight of her caused his long-slumbering groin to tighten and his heart to race.

Were it not for her expression, he would have become completely aroused. However, fear hung like a palpable force around her. Her large green-blue eyes stared at him, grievously, full of apprehension. Miss Poole looked more like a woman about to face a hanging jury rather than a woman of the night about to entertain a man.

At six o’clock, Kayla set down the manuscript and went to shower. Her stomach took turns tingling and tightening as she got ready to have dinner with Shawn.

In the wildest reaches of her imagination, she couldn’t have prepared herself for the day she’d had. It had begun with getting this chance to ghostwrite for Valerie Martin and the…research…she’d have to do and in the middle, she’d gotten asked out by her neighbor she had a crush on, who was, in her book, one of the hunkiest guys she’d ever met.

The day wasn’t over, either.

She wondered at Shawn’s sudden solicitousness. They’d been neighbors for a little over a year and he’d always been there for her when something in her house needed fixing but he’d always had a girlfriend around and that was that. They’d chatted enough to know the pertinent facts of each other’s lives, such as birthdays, family members and occupations. Kayla knew that Shawn came from a working class family and had put himself through college with honors. In fact, she’d always respected that about him, seeing what meticulous care he took of the house and truck because he’d worked hard for them. She thought now of the one time she’d complimented him on the way his truck always looked practically new. He’d told her that it took good care of him so he was returning the service. His answer had impressed her and she thought of it often.

As she combed her hair, wet from the shower, she dared to wonder if he gave as good care to a woman.

“Stop that!” she told her reflection in the bathroom mirror. This was just an invitation to have pizza. How did she know that it meant anything more than that? And anyway, she had a ménage à trois in which to participate. If Shawn knew about that part of her writing, he’d probably lose any interest in her he might have had.

Sighing, she thought of the business card on her desk underneath the manuscript. She’d spent a great deal of time this afternoon holding the little card in her hand, staring at it and completely chickening out from calling the number and making the necessary arrangements. When Shawn had knocked on her door and asked her to have pizza, she’d jumped at the chance to spend time with him, no matter whether it led to something more or not.

Kayla braided her damp hair, then dressed in a peasant blouse and denim skirt. She slipped her feet into sandals and went to the front porch to wait for Shawn, who was due in about five minutes. She sat on the swing, enjoying the early evening—warm with a pleasant breeze playing in the leaves of the elms lining the street. She turned at the sound of Shawn’s screen door.

He grinned at her when their eyes met, sending her systems into almost immediate overdrive. Could a guy look sexier in a plain white t-shirt and jeans? The stretchy material of the shirt accentuated the sculpted muscles of his chest and shoulders. His hair was damp, combed straight back, yet one piece of it had fallen over his forehead. Strangely enough, he didn’t seem to be aware of just how gorgeous he really was.

“Hi, Kayla. You’re early.”

She laughed. “So are you.”

He answered with a chuckle. “I’m always either early or on time. I can’t stand waiting or making people wait. When you have three older sisters and a younger brother, you do a lot of waiting. I just got sick of it.”

Kayla went down the steps. “Peter always kept after me about being on time for school and such. It became a habit.”

His blue gaze locked onto hers, sending thrills coursing down her arms. “You look…really pretty,” he said.

She raised her eyebrows. Was this day for real? She’d probably wake up tomorrow and find everything back to normal, so she decided to enjoy it while it lasted. “I do? Thanks.”

With his fingertips on her elbow, he led her toward the sidewalk. “You’re welcome. But really, you didn’t know that?”

She looked down, feeling heat flush her cheeks. “No.”

He shook his head as they went toward Mass. Ave. “Amazing.”

She glanced at his profile. “What’s amazing?”

He returned her look. “Well, you seem so surprised. I’ve always wondered why you didn’t have guys lined up at the door.”

She made a huffing sound, belying the sudden pounding of her heart. Shawn had spent time wondering about such a thing? “Me?”

He nodded. “Yeah, you.”

“It’s kind of you to say.”

“It’s true.”

She smiled, feeling that horrible shyness overcome her. Her mind roiled in confusion. Was he just making conversation, or was he trying to tell her something? “Actually, I’ve had the same thoughts about you.” The confession slipped from her without thinking. She’d wondered that he hadn’t had a train of women moving in and out of his house since Joanne left.

“Me?” He sounded the same as she had.

“Yeah, you.”

He looked at her as they walked, a look of shyness mirroring her own. “That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me. But my experience is that women are mainly attracted to me because they think I look a lot like Brad Pitt. That’s what they say. I guess there is some resemblance.” Coming from someone else, that statement could have sounded conceited but the tone of his voice conveyed disbelief.

“They do?” she asked, feigning innocence. As if she hadn’t thought the same thing a thousand times.

He didn’t seem to catch it. “Yeah. But they also count on my having the glamorous lifestyle he probably has. I’m a mechanic. I like what I do and I like to talk about philosophy if someone’s interested. But I’m not what you’d call exciting. When I’m with a woman, I like to cuddle a lot and hang out together. They get bored with me. Joanne sure did.”

Kayla stared at him as they walked. What he was telling her sounded amazing. If she had her druthers, she’d cuddle with this guy all day long, no questions asked. These women must be nuts. Funny, though, she thought with a sudden flutter in her heart, now that she thought of it, the two guys she’d been involved with in the past had both made the same complaint about her as Shawn’s girlfriends in the past made about him. You’re boring, Kay. Don’t you want to get out there and do something? How many spaghetti westerns can a person watch before you start to smell horse dung everywhere? I’m sick of cuddling. That’s all you want to do. On and on.

She’d never felt accepted for herself, something that was extremely important to her. The weird part was, she felt more accepted by Shawn in the short time they’d spent chatting as neighbors and this afternoon, than she had with John and Lou while she was dating them. However, that still didn’t mean that Shawn was interested in her as a girlfriend. He hadn’t said word one about that, in fact. Maybe he just mentioned cuddling and all because they were friendly as neighbors and he felt comfortable enough with her.

“Is that really true?” she asked.

He put his hand over his chest. “I kid you not.” He looked at her and smiled. “I’m a simple guy in a lot of ways. What you see is what you get. And I’ll be honest with you. An honest mechanic. Very winning combination.”

Kayla laughed. She didn’t know if he was trying to get her to like him or just being himself but either way, it was working. “Sounds good to me.”

His smile faded. “Which part?”

The question rocked through her like a lightning bolt. She cleared her throat. The guy she’d had a crush on for over a year was now looking at her like he…liked her. In the way she wanted to be liked by him. “All of it.”

His gaze remained on her. “Sounds like we’re a lot alike in some ways.”

She swallowed past the nervous lump in her throat. “Yeah, it does.”

Thank God, they were now crossing the busy intersection into the heart of Harvard Square. There was no time for further conversation. Once they were back on the sidewalk, threading their way through the Friday evening crowds, they walked in silence until reaching the pizza parlor.

To her relief, Shawn did not pick up the thread of conversation, though it seemed to hang in the air between them. While they had pizza, they chatted mostly about their work and the people they knew, his upcoming birthday party and her brother’s recent wedding in France to a vivacious woman named Christiane.

After pizza, they wandered around Harvard Square, stopping to listen to the street musicians and have ice cream. All the while, at the back of her mind, Kayla ruminated on her dilemma. She liked Shawn. He had a great sense of humor and spoke candidly about his life and family. He also seemed equally interested in hers and listened attentively. She might even dare to think he liked her too. What would she do if something…developed? She wouldn’t be able to go through with a ménage. And she wasn’t going to lie about it and try to get away with writing a scene she hadn’t experienced.

Shawn turned to her after they’d listened to the music for a while. “What do you think?” he asked. “Should we head home?”

She looked at him with a pang of disappointment. She wasn’t anxious for the evening to end. Silently, she made a decision to invite him to sit on the porch swing awhile, then nodded. “All right.”

They walked back to their street in companionable silence. Kayla’s heart sped up as they neared the house. “Would you like to sit on the porch a bit?” she asked. “It’s such a nice night.”

He looked at her and grinned. “Actually, I was going to invite you in to listen to some music.” At the walk to their house he stopped and turned to her. “I’m having a really nice time with you.”

She smiled, feeling a surge of joy as if the heavens had opened up. “Me too. I’d love to listen to music.”

He grinned and Kayla could swear he looked relieved and happy she’d accepted his invitation. “Great.” With his fingertips at her elbow, he led her up the porch steps and through the door to his side of the house. His touch made her skin come alive and she took a deep breath.

Kayla had only seen the inside of Shawn’s house briefly a couple of times when she’d come to ask him to fix broken things in hers. She’d found the interior always warm and welcoming, with overstuffed sofas in earth tones of a soft cottony material, vibrant area rugs against the hardwood floors and books everywhere. The only other items in the living room were his guitar, a few ferns in clay pots and photographs.

“Make yourself at home,” Shawn said. “Look around, if you’d like. There isn’t much to see.”

She smiled at him. “I like this room. It’s very cozy.”

He grinned, his eyes looking suddenly shy. “Thanks. Would you like something to drink? I don’t have much. Joanne left some wine coolers.”

She nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

“I’ll be right back.”

When he was gone, Kayla took him up on his offer to look around. She perused the titles on the shelves, seeing mostly what must have been his books in college, about world religions and philosophy, along with literature classics and some books on cars and boats.

At the fireplace, she stopped, looking at the photographs in frames on the mantel. She’d never met his family but knew he had three older sisters and a younger brother. Her gaze lingered a moment longer on a photograph of Shawn with his brother, Ryan. Shawn had spoken a bit about Ryan in the past but she’d never met him. If she hadn’t already known they were related, she would never have guessed they were brothers. His brother was taller and not so broad in the shoulders. He had dark hair and eyes. The one thing he and Shawn shared was that they were both very handsome. They appeared to be close—her writer’s powers of observation kicking in—judging from the way Shawn had an arm draped affectionately around his brother’s shoulders, smiling as if he were at once proudly showing him off and enjoying his company immensely.

“That’s Ryan.” Shawn’s voice sounded from the doorway.

She turned to see him holding a bottle in each hand. He came over to her and handed her one of the chilled bottles.

She thanked him and he clinked his bottle to hers.

“Cheers.”

“Cheers,” she repeated and took a sip. “I was noticing that you don’t look so much alike but you do look close.

He nodded. “You’re very astute.”

She smiled shyly. “It’s what writers do. Notice details.”

“Well, you’re right. We are close. I see him as my kid brother, even though he’s only three years younger than I am. However, when your oldest sister is almost fifty and the other two are forty and forty-three, that makes him and me the babies in the family.”

Kayla felt a pang of envy. Even though Peter had always been a caring older brother, she’d always wished for sisters, younger and older. The closest she’d had was her cousin Elizabeth who’d lived in this apartment until recently when their grandfather had left her a house in Maine. She’d moved there and ended up marrying a great guy. Funny, Zach was also a mechanic who owned his own shop in New York, which he’d sold to move to Maine. That’s when Peter had rented this side of the house to Shawn, his mechanic, who was looking for a place. Even though she liked having Shawn there, she still missed Ellie. “Wow, how is it having such a large family?”

He grinned. “I can’t speak for all people with large families but I think I’m pretty lucky. My sisters are cool for the most part, so there have been quite a few good times for us. My dad was a great guy. He passed away when Ryan and I were in our teens. My mom can be…tough, but she’s good-hearted.”

He moved in a bit closer to her and pleasant shivers ran through her body. “I haven’t seen Ryan in over a year. He’s been overseas shooting photographs of faraway places and writing articles about them.” Shawn’s voice tensed as he spoke.

“It sounds like you’re not happy about that.”

“I’m not. He’s been in Baghdad, of all places, recently. I’m really hoping he makes it back for my birthday next week. I’m trying to think of a way to keep him in the States from now on.”

“I sure don’t blame you for feeling that way. I wish my brother would come back here and France is probably quite a bit safer.”

Shawn nodded and took a sip of the wine cooler. Kayla felt the sudden strong warmth of a hand on her shoulder. “Want to sit down? I’ll put on something to listen to.”

“Okay.” She let him lead her to the sofa and settled into the pillowy cushions. Shawn knelt by his CD player and in moments, Simon and Garfunkel were playing. A tremor of anticipation shuddered through her when he came and sat down close to her. If her writer’s powers of observation were correct, he was acting as if they were on a date rather than just neighbors socializing. She hoped she was right.

“I like Simon and Garfunkel,” she said.

He smiled. “Good, because I have everything of theirs. My eldest sister, Siobhan, was a hippie in her day. She cut my teeth on all the great ones. The Beatles, Paul Simon, Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan.”

“That’s cool.” She squirmed a bit, her nervousness growing both because he sat close enough that the heat from his muscular body simmered in the air and because if he asked her about her musical taste, her answer would probably make his opinion of her join the men who came before him—boring!

“What do you like to listen to?”

Kayla grimaced inwardly, shrinking away a bit. “Um… I like mostly…classical.” She braced herself, waiting for the kind of groan she’d received in the past. When none came, she dared to look at him.

“Me too. Mozart was the best, in my book. I have just about everything recorded of his.”

She felt her eyes widen. “Really?”

“You look surprised.” He sounded a touch defensive.

She sat bolt upright. “No, not at all.” She gave what she knew was a sheepish grin. “Actually, I’ve been told how boring I am and that my taste in music was one of the culprits.”

Shawn’s brow furrowed and he leaned in a bit closer, his wine cooler resting on one thigh of his jeans. “Are you kidding me? Someone actually thought you were boring?”

Slowly, she nodded. “Yes.”

“Who said such a thing?”

“My last boyfriend.”

Shawn huffed. “What a jerk. You’re not boring at all.”

“He thought so. And anyway, you don’t know me, really. You might grow to find me boring.”

He set his bottle on a coaster on the coffee table and looked at her, leaning back against the cushions. “Well, we have more in common than I thought. We’ve both been branded as boring.” He grinned. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty cool.”

Kayla’s cheeks heated several degrees. “The feeling is mutual.”

“I’m honored. I’ve been called many things in my life, especially in the recent past but cool has never been one of them. Well, except for Ryan when he was thirteen.”

She smiled, feeling the most painfully shy she ever had in her life. “One of the things that makes you cool is that you didn’t run away when I told you what music I like,” she said.

“Why would I? It shows you have taste.”

“Thanks.”

“Kayla, can I ask you a personal question?”

The music receded far to the background of her consciousness, replaced by the rush of blood in her ears. “I guess so.” She took a sip of the wine cooler.

“Are you…seeing anyone?”

Oh, my God. She pulled a deep breath, steadying the bottle between her hands. “No. Not for a long while now.” She wasn’t about to think of the two years of abstinence she’d undergone and the fact that this gorgeous guy was sitting sooo close…

He breathed what sounded to her hopeful ears like a sigh of relief. “I wasn’t sure.”

“May I ask why you asked?” Her hands tightened around the bottle.

“Yeah, of course. It’s just, I wasn’t sure if I had any competition.”

Kayla blinked several times, her blood pumping faster through every vein in her body. Was she hearing right? “Competition?”

Shawn exhaled and raked a large hand through his wheat-colored hair.

Kayla resisted the overpowering urge to do it for him.

He looked at her. “I’m sorry, I’m not exactly smooth when it comes to this. What I’m trying to say is… Well, I guess the best thing is just to tell it straight. After Joanne broke up with me, I started to rethink the kind of woman I’m attracted to. Historically, they’re kind of harsh. And then not long ago, I saw you hanging out your wash and it struck me that you were sweet and pretty and probably would treat a guy with kindness. Since then, I’ve been working up the courage to…find out if you could be interested.”

Kayla stared at him. This definitely had to be the strangest, most wonderful day she’d had in a long time. “Really?”

He nodded slowly. “Really.”

She looked down at the bottle in her hands. “Wow. I never thought it was possible.”

“What do you mean?”

Her cheeks tingled and Kayla was certain they had turned a bright, embarrassing shade of red. “I mean, I never thought you could possibly be…as interested in me as I am in you.” She said the last part of the sentence quickly, before she couldn’t say anything. She cleared her throat, watching his astonished expression. “As long as we’re being honest,” she went on, encouraged by his wide-eyed gaze, “I’ve had a crush on you since you moved in.” She exhaled sharply. “There, I’ve said it.” She leaned over and put her bottle on an available coaster. When she sat up and dared a glance at Shawn, he was still staring at her.

“I had no idea,” he said softly.

She shrugged, the casual gesture belying the quivering mass of nerves she had become. “How could you? I didn’t exactly broadcast it.”

“No, you didn’t. But truthfully, even if you had, I’ve had my head up my ass where women are concerned. Or, rather, up Joanne’s. I probably wouldn’t have noticed.” He smiled gently and the blue in his eyes deepened a couple of magnificent shades.

Her mind reeled. Help me! I’m melting! As she had earlier that day in the agent’s office, she surreptitiously, wiped her damp palms on her denim skirt.

He moved in a bit closer, giving her a sensuous whiff of some spicy kind of aftershave.

Her gaze locked onto his lips, invitingly strong and pouty at the same time.

“Well, now that we know it’s mutual, I really want to kiss you.” His voice had fallen a couple of notches to husky.

Her breath caught softly in her throat. “Please do,” she whispered.