All of You (10 page)

Compelled, though not entirely sure why, Jessica looked over her shoulder and her insides clenched. Walking away from a street vendor with a couple of pretzels, into what looked like a private park for the housing development, was none other than the man who haunted her mind day and night.

With a tall, willowy brunette on his arm.

Belinda laughed at him. It wasn’t the reaction Kyle was going for, but since he’d not only stood her up for dinner last Saturday but stuck her with the likes of his brother, he tried to take it with good grace.

“This is so typical,” Belinda crowed, biting into the pretzel he’d bought her. She shook the lengths of her ironed-flat black hair out of her face enough to keep it out of her food. Few things were allowed to come between Belinda and her meals. Rail thin and strong as an ox, she apparently burned off all her calories hefting pieces of metal around her nearby loft.

“What is?” He tore into his own hot twist. Buttery, salty flavor filled his senses, giving him his only comfort of the day. She’d been right about fresh pretzels hitting the spot.

He’d taken a rare day off work for a little bit of introspection on his situation with Jessica. He knew he’d made positive progress, but he had the sense he’d painted himself into a corner with this convenient-lover thing. Thinking about it didn’t help. Instead he discovered he could reflect on the whole of his existence in about forty-five minutes. He’d promptly panicked and called Belinda to help him figure out how to make a U-turn.

“You can have just about any woman you meet, and you—being you—want the only woman you can’t have. It’s completely typical.” The jagged slices of her hair caught the breeze, moving as solid pieces while she chewed.

Her getup today would have been inspiring, if it wasn’t just a little bit scary. She wore an old black tank top that didn’t reach her pierced bellybutton and had enough holes from bleach stains to make him wonder how it stayed together. Not to mention wonder how she planned to stay milk pale with the summer sun on all her exposed skin.

He’d asked what the fist-sized band-aid on her belly was about but she’d shrugged him off a little too nonchalantly, claiming she’d cut herself with a shard of metal. She’d never even given herself a splinter in all the years he’d known her, so he knew there was a story there. She just wasn’t telling it.

Her skirt was just plain mean to the male species, as evidenced by all the guys who damn near de-tongued themselves with their own feet as she passed. A Catholic-girl red plaid over some tiny black string underwear she seemed happy to share with the public. The only thing that kept the wind from kicking the skirt up were the suspenders that went down instead of up, winding between her legs to come back up the front and peel the torn waistband down another inch or so. She capped it off with inch-squared fishnets and knee-high boots that would weigh down a lesser Marine.

Lucas would have a coronary if he saw her, which Kyle sincerely hoped was not the point of her demanding a walk in their joint neighborhood.

“You’re sure Lucas never walks in the park?” It wasn’t as if Lucas was ever rational when it came to Belinda. If he were to see them together, especially with her in her pseudo-stripper outfit, Lucas would throttle first, ask questions never.

“I don’t spend time thinking about what he does.” She probably didn’t think about the number of cows it took to make up her wardrobe either, but that didn’t mean he wanted to end up like one of them—slaughtered and skinned for someone else’s pleasure; namely his brother’s.

Maybe he should just get the walk over quickly and hope Lucas was neck deep in unbalanced accounts. “So what do you think? How do I get out of the sex-toy zone and into the live-with-me zone?”

Belinda choked on her pretzel. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.”

“Belinda.”

“Have you considered asking her?”

“Not an option. She patently doesn’t want a relationship.” He took another bite, pulling at her arm to lead the way into the community arbor where hopefully they could not be seen from Lucas’s apartment.

Belinda moved only as fast as her leaden shoes would allow—snail’s pace. “Hypnosis?”

“You were supposed to be helpful.”

“You were supposed to have a triple digit IQ. We’ve all learned to live with disappointment.” She finally saw the black cloud forming somewhere over his eyebrows. “What do you want me to tell you, Kyle? You’re trying to talk a woman into something she doesn’t want to do.”

“Something she thinks she doesn’t want to do. There’s a difference.”

She snorted. “Only in your mind.”

“I’m right about this.” He knew he was. The way her eyes softened when he made love to her, giving him everything, body and soul. The way she seemed to fight herself as well as him. “You’d have to be there to know what I’m talking about.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. One overzealous Lonnigan is about all a girl should have to take.”

“I’m not overzealous. I screwed up everything when I lied to her. At least you know Lucas. You knew what you were getting into as soon as he walked into the bar.”

Her heavily lined eyes narrowed, the dark brown turning nearly black. “What’s that supposed to mean? What did he tell you?”

“Not a peep.” Which was true. Aggravating, but true. “He’s barely letting me in his apartment and when I’m there he doesn’t say much.”

“Lucas never says much. It’s the thing I like best about him.”

“You should tell him that.” He considered his words for a second, then figured he was already in hot water, why not boil? “You should tell him everything you like about him.”

The boots scraped to a stop. More important, she stopped eating. “I thought this was about you and your failed love life, not mine.”

“Yours is only failing because you’re being stubborn.”

“You think I should take the advice of a man who didn’t even remember to tell the woman he was sleeping with his own name?”

“In this case, yeah.” He stopped walking. “At least I’m admitting I was wrong and what I’m feeling. You won’t even do that.”

“You don’t understand.” She sighed, then tossed the half-eaten pretzel into a nearby trashcan. Damn, he could have eaten that. “Things between me and Lucas are… complicated.”

Kyle snorted. “Love usually is.”

“And what do you know about love, you two-timing louse?”

He spun around at the sound of the nearly shrill voice behind him, unable to believe his ears. But she was there, crisp cream blouse and charcoal-gray skirt uniform in place, her hair held back at the sides with sedate clips, the rest flowing down her back like a mahogany mane. He smiled wide. “Jess!”

Her dark eyes were bright with anger, even her lush mouth was tight with it. She was on-fire pissed-off for some reason, but he’d never seen anyone so beautiful in his life.

Not that she was interested in hearing that. She cuffed his shoulder hard enough to make him take a step back. “Jessica, you schmuck! I was almost ready to give you the benefit of the doubt. Thinking—feeling… It doesn’t matter. I can’t believe I was so stupid. If Lucas hadn’t told me about all those models you date—”

“Models?” Kyle frowned. His eyes darted to Belinda, who for the first time in her life actually looked surprised. She couldn’t possibly think he and—

“You think I’m a model?” Belinda asked, incredulous.

“Not talking to you,” Jessica said through her teeth, still boring into him with an incensed stare. “Ever since that night, you’ve been trying to convince me you weren’t a jerk. I knew I couldn’t trust you. I knew sooner or later you’d show yourself for the sneaking, lying bastard I thought you were but I let my hormones get the better of me.”

“But we’re not—”

Belinda suddenly rammed her whole body against his side, latching both arms around him and crunching her hair onto his shoulder. “Oh, yes, we are, sweetums.”

“Sweet— What?” Finally looking away from Jessica—who was like to burst into flames—Kyle glared down at Belinda. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Just trust me,” she whispered out the side of her mouth.

“No!” He tried to shake her off, but she had the hold of a steel trap. He looked back at Jessica, about to explain when he saw his brother looming behind her like an archangel.

Cold, clinical Lucas Lonnigan had completely disappeared. In his place was a hulk of black fury, his eyes so dark and narrow that Kyle only had enough time to acknowledge one thing: this was going to hurt.

Then Lucas punched him.

“Kyle!” Jessica’s voice cried, while he felt like he was soaring through the air.

Thankfully, he landed on a swell of grass. Not so thankfully, the grass was on top of hard, hard ground. Air whooshed out of him and refused to come back. His eyes teared up, his back cracked and he wondered almost absently if his jaw was still connected to his head.

Jessica dropped to her knees next to him, her soft hands fluttering over his face, her thin brows drawn together in what looked like concern. He liked that look. It was almost as good as her smile. He could hear her telling him to relax and breathe, then she looked over her shoulder where some slightly muted voices were yelling at each other. It was almost nice here in this fog. He wondered how long he could go without breathing, then decided he could make it as long as she stayed right where she was.

Until she took the butt of her hand and popped him savagely in the stomach. Suddenly he was sucking in too much air completely against his will. And all of it hurt.

“What was that for?” he croaked, curling away from her.

“Got you breathing again, didn’t it?” She hadn’t been kidding about not having a Florence Nightingale gene. She got up again, dusting her knees off while he wondered if he’d have visual verification of his balls ever again.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Belinda was yelling, probably at Lucas. He hoped at Lucas. The last thing Kyle needed was someone else hitting him. “You had no right to do that, you jerk! Kyle didn’t do anything to you.”

Oh good, it was at Lucas.

“Sure looked like it to me,” Lucas was grumbling.

Kyle sat up slowly, working his jaw right and left. Still on but definitely dented. Who’d have thought Lucas had it in him? He looked up to find Belinda and his brother squaring off, she with her hands on her hips, militant boots braced as if declaring war. Lucas looked severely under-armed, holding his ear and leaning his head to the side. They prattled on while Kyle blinked.

“I was trying to help him with his girlfriend over there until you came over here like some wild rampaging caveman and ruined it.”

“I am not his girlfriend,” Jessica interjected coldly, drawing their heated attention from each other. “I don’t know what kind of freak show is going on here, but I’ve had enough. I’m going.”

“Jessica, wait!” Kyle tried to scramble back to standing, but he didn’t do a very good job with it and she was already to the gates of the park.

“I’m not dating him!” Belinda called after her. Jessica stopped at the sound of her voice, freezing Kyle in his attempts to catch up with her too. “He wouldn’t want me, even if I were. The only woman he wants to be with is you.”

Kyle’s gaze met Jessica’s across the dozen or so feet. She was flushed. He could see her counting the number of people already in the park watching them. Her gaze danced his way again, filling him with hope that she might reconsider. But the longer she looked at him, the sadder her eyes got and he knew she wasn’t coming back.

“I’m not what he’s looking for,” she replied, then impassively walked out of the park and back out of his life. If his insides didn’t already feel crushed, he had a feeling they’d be tied up in knots. He couldn’t even run after her.

“I’m sorry, Kyle,” Belinda said softly a minute or two later, actually sounding like it, her hand resting on his shoulder. “I really thought it would help.”

Of course she did. Every impulsive, knee-jerk, dumb-assed thing Belinda did was because she thought it was the right thing or the best way or had the most heartfelt intentions.

He rubbed his jaw, keeping his eyes on Lucas in case the moron got territorial again. Though his brother’s eyes were still suspicious, his ear was apparently giving him his own problems. “Next time you want to help, hon, for once in your life, you might want to think before you act.”

Her hand fell away. Kyle looked over at her, surprised at the open hurt on her face. God, there were even tears in her eyes. He hadn’t said anything that bad. And Belinda never cried. Period.

“Belinda—”

“Don’t worry about it, Kyle. In fact, I don’t want either of you to worry about me anymore. Ever again.” She backed away. Lucas reached for her but she pushed his hand away harshly. “Especially you,” she added, then turned away and ran as best she could out of the park, leaving the two of them together.

With a decent-sized audience staring at them disapprovingly.

“Oh, like none of you have ever had the shit kicked out of you by your girlfriends.” Kyle waved them off irritably, carefully stepping to Lucas’s side. They both stared at the empty arbor gates. “So what do we do now?”

Lucas pulled his hand from his ear—as if he were checking for blood, which meant that Belinda had boxed him but good this time—and grimaced. “Smart men would promise to stay out of each other’s business.”

Kyle considered that and started shuffling toward the exit. “I don’t think either one of us is going to be called smart for a while but it sounds like a good plan. You have any steaks?”

“Not for you. You can have the ice pack. I’m getting the steak.”

“Greedy.” Steak actually sounded pretty good. Better to wait until he could chew and not die, though. “What did Jessica mean about you telling her I date models? And what did she mean about not being what I’m looking for?” If Lucas had shown her that list they’d made to help him organize his thoughts, he was toast.

Lucas’s expression of non-expression was miraculously less human than usual. “Not a clue.”

Shit. She’d seen it. Kyle was too tired to argue. “Guess I don’t have a clue about why Belinda won’t give you the time of day, then, either.”

Lucas growled. “Fine, you can have the steak.” Ah, the begging pleas of a man in love.

If only he were less bruised—and not on the same precarious ledge—to enjoy it. “Later. Right now I just want to fall down somewhere and pray for my unborn children.”

“Amen.” Lucas followed him out and the rest of the walk to his apartment was blessedly silent. Kyle just hoped the rest of their lives weren’t.