Page 42 of Take Me Tender

“No.” It was in her voice now, that fear he’d seen on her face at Malibu & Ewe.

He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t press. “All right.”

“I think it’s true.” Her gaze flicked toward him, flicked away. “The other morning at your house, she came over and told me all about being conceived through artificial insemination. I didn’t think much about it at the time, because Cassandra is one of those friendly, girly types who talks about everything—I think I know her SAT scores and the name of her first boyfriend—but she also mentioned donor siblings and how the Internet could make it fairly easy to locate them.”

“Would your parents have kept from you that kind of information?”

Instead of answering, she dipped inside the fishbowl and scooped out her pet. A few cranks on the winder and she let it free again, her gaze focused on its manic plastic fins. “I can see them not saying anything,” Nikki finally answered. “My mom once mentioned fertility issues, I think, but she wouldn’t have wanted me to feel anything other than ‘normal,’ so might have kept quiet. My father…maybe my mother would have made Dad promise not to tell before she died? Or was he embarrassed by the situation that he was himself infertile? I don’t know. That I wasn’t his biological child could explain why he was so…so cold.”

She looked over at Jay, her pretty face blank. “I don’t remember a time that he touched me, you know. Not even at my mother’s funeral.”

Oh, hell. His hand crept up to his chest. How did people navigate this damn love thing? Her bad knee made his throb. The dents in her heart made his own ache like the devil.

He shoved up from the couch and reached her in two strides. It only took a moment to lift her up and then into his lap as he took her place in the chair. His hands were careful as they replaced the fallen bag of peas and then they were gentle as they cradled her to him.

He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her scent as her head lay heavy on his shoulder. Their breathing synchronized and it was the oddest damn thing, but he felt his heart growing bigger, expanding like the volume during the chorus of some cheesy hair band’s rock ballad.

Could he live like this? Could he live with this? Maybe if he ran now, he could save himself from whatever these feelings for her were doing to him.

Her whisper sounded over the voice in his head urging escape. “Why do think she didn’t say anything? Do you think Cassandra recognized me that first day and then decided she didn’t want me to know about our connection?”

Oh, no. Oh, God. His arms tightened around her reflexively. “Of course not.” He managed to choke out the words, though there was a vise of emotion closing hard around his neck. “I can’t know what Cassandra is thinking, of course…”

Nikki’s back straightened, and she turned in his lap so she could look at his face. There was a wrinkle between her eyebrows and her bottom lip was pushed out, doing that thing that was supposed to be a frown. “You knew, didn’t you? Before tonight. You knew that Cassandra and I are biologically related.”

Fate must be laughing her—of course female—ass off. When it came for Jay’s time to fall, he’d taken the dive for a woman who was all unsettling and at least half-psychic. “I…I…”

The wrinkle on her forehead disappeared as her eyebrows rose in question. “You…you…”

Thirty-two years old. Experienced with women. An editor of a national magazine. A journalist who’d met all sorts of people in the pursuit of a story. You’d think he’d have learned self-preservation along the way. But he discovered he couldn’t lie to those beautiful, mesmerizing eyes.

“I found out a few days ago,” he admitted, his muscles tensing. She was going to throw his ass out now. Cut him loose, shut him down, slap his face, at least metaphorically, if not in reality.

On the same night that he’d truly accepted that he was in love with Nikki, Nikki was going to show him the door. His mind raced, thinking what he could say to soften her. What he might do to persuade her to give him another chance.

“Oh,” she said, settling back against him. “I understand perfectly. I wouldn’t have wanted to get involved either.”

The knife, the knife he knew she didn’t even realize she’d wielded, slid deep between his ribs. The cruelest cut was the one that made clear she expected so damn little of him.

Nineteen

Fear makes strangers of people who would be friends.

—SHIRLEY MACLAINE, ACTRESS

Days later, Nikki limped around the Malibu kitchen. The next afternoon was the big anniversary party and with her knee bound in an elastic bandage and with plenty of breaks to give it rest, she was managing all right. Jay wasn’t happy with the arrangement, but he wasn’t happy about her moving around at all.

“I’m going to get a butt as big as Texas if you keep this up,” she’d told him the night before as he’d come into her living room carrying bags of take-out—greasy hamburgers and fries. “Not to mention what this kind of food will do to your heart.”

He’d sent her an odd look. “My heart is my problem. Now your butt…that’s my problem, too. And my biggest problem with it is that it’s all covered up when I thought I told you before I left that I wanted you naked and willing as soon as I got back with the food.”

“Seriously, Jay, I don’t like someone doing things for me. I don’t need it.”

He grinned, ignoring her complaint. “You like someone—me—doing things to you, though. So cut me some slack, cookie.”

They’d eaten dinner, he’d uncovered her butt along with all of her other body parts, and she’d very nakedly and willingly let him, well, “do” what he wanted.

When it came to sex, she still let him melt her at will and on demand. She followed his sweet, persuasive suggestions, blushed at his raunchy orders, and went eagerly into every new position he introduced, in each case relying on him to make the experience something worthwhile.

God, he’d probably hate that, knowing she was thinking of Jay Buchanan as Old Reliable. A cold chill broke over her skin. She should hate that, too—she did hate that, as a matter of fact, because it wasn’t smart to be considering anyone so steadfast. Including Jay Buchanan.

Particularly Jay Buchanan.

Behind her, she heard the sliding glass door to the deck open. “Hey, Hef Junior,” she called over her shoulder, her voice purposefully light. “Remember 101 Dalmatians? I was just thinking you reminded me of that movie’s ancient, long-eared bloodhound.”

“It’s me.”

Cassandra’s voice had Nikki spinning around on her good leg. The other woman stood in the doorway, wearing a knee-length full skirt of thin cotton and a lacy tank top she surely had crocheted. Both hands gripped a large, woven reed basket.

“What are you doing here?” Nikki asked.

Cassandra hesitated a moment, then came closer, holding out the item she carried. “I brought something for you. A peace offering. My version of a plate of baked goods or a bowl of fruit.” She set it on the counter near Nikki, then backed away.

Inside was a pretty jumble of different balls of yarn—their colors bright and their weights as varied as their shades. A pair of hand-painted knitting needles stuck up like chopsticks. Just as tempted as she was by the fresh produce at a farmer’s market, Nikki reached out a finger to test the different textures.

Cassandra had tied a bow made of a glittery knitted strip around the handle, and Nikki decided that’s what she could do with the mile-long swathe that she continued to work on. Of course, she’d have to hope someone was looking for ribbon to wrap an SUV or maybe a real elephant.

She touched the loop of the bow. “You didn’t need to do this.”

“I would have brought it earlier, but Jay warned me off.”

Nikki frowned. “What?”

“He said he didn’t think you were ready to talk to me.”

Her temper rose. Damn him. He had no right making decisions for her. Though their sexual affair was hot and heavy, she didn’t want him looking into her head. They weren’t that close, and she’d make that clear to him as soon as she finished this with Cassandra. “He should keep out of my business.”

The other woman blinked at her vehemence. “He seems to care a lot about you.”

“In a superficial kind of way,” Nikki insisted.

Cassandra tucked her hair behind her ears. “Anyhow, I came to apologize. I’d shared with the other knitters some particulars of my, uh, situation. But I didn’t plan on the way the revelation was sprung on you the other night.”

Nikki lifted a shoulder. Never let them think you’re weak. “I was surprised, I’ll give you that.”

“I’m sure you’ve put two and two together about how it came about. A few months ago, I started some sleuthing on the Internet. I found you, and sent you that advertisement, hoping to entice you into the shop.”

“Picking up the phone wasn’t an easier option?”

Now it was Cassandra’s turn to give an uncomfortable shrug. She looked down at her feet. “The thing is, I wanted to get a look at you first. It felt weird to call a stranger out of the blue with that kind of news. ‘Hey, we’re both products of the same sperm donor.’ And then when you came in the shop that first time…”

---