Kayla shook her head. “School, books, language degrees…I’m tired of those things. I just didn’t realize it until…” Kane.
Her sister smiled and tilted her head in a sympathetic gesture Kayla recognized immediately.
“Don’t worry about me, Cat. I’ll be fine.”
“I know. And as long as you’re free for the foreseeable future, I have an idea I want to run by you. For a new business. A catering business. We’ll start small and offer every kind of service imaginable—decorations, hors d’oeuvres, serving, catering, party-planning—we can use what’s left of the money for start-up costs.” She paused for breath. “And eventually I’ll get to use my cooking skills full time while your talent for organization will keep the business going. We’ll target small parties at first, and then try for the bigger clients once we establish a reputation. I thought…”
“Slow down,” Kayla said, laughing at her sister’s enthusiasm, though she had to admit she liked the idea of planning parties instead of crunching numbers. “It sounds ambitious…”
“But you love it. And get this name. Pot Luck.” Catherine emphasized each word with her hands. “Slogan, We Meet Your Every Need.”
Kayla rolled her eyes. “I think our family’s already been down that route.”
“Nothing wrong with capitalizing on innuendo and imagination. We weren’t involved. Hell, you made headlines bringing down the mob.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
Catherine grinned. “Yeah. But I made you smile for the first time all week—since that lousy son of a bitch betrayed my faith in him and walked out.”
“He did what he had to do.” Kane hadn’t gotten past losing his mother or his supposed role in her death. Kayla had spent much of the last week on the Internet researching psychology books on suicide, the people who remained, and guilt complexes. Many of the articles she’d read described Kane’s withdrawal and resulting pain perfectly.
The knowledge didn’t take away her regret or loneliness, but it did help her to understand the man she’d loved and lost. Kane had never let go of his guilt, anger, and fear. He probably never would.
“You’re too forgiving.” Catherine picked up the letter opener on the desk. “Personally I’d like to slit his throat…or that other part of his anatomy. The only part he was thinking with when he…”
“Enough. He doesn’t deserve it. I’m dealing without Kane just fine.”
“Say that enough times and maybe I’ll believe it. Better yet, maybe you’ll believe it. He hurt you, and you have to acknowledge that. At the very least, vent and you’ll feel better.”
“Is that why you’re twirling a letter opener in your hand and issuing empty threats against Kane? To get me in touch with my feelings?”
Catherine grinned. “Whatever works.”
The bells over the shop door tinkled, distracting her attention. Sunlight gleamed through the doorway and the front windows, blinding in its intensity.
“Afternoon, ladies.”
Kayla shut her eyes against the harsh glare…and the sound of the deep, familiar voice. She was dreaming again, just as she had been last night, awakening with her clothing damp with sweat, her thighs tingling from an erotic, sexy dream starring…
“Isn’t someone going to speak?” Kane asked.
“You’d better be here to grovel because I’m not about to let you hurt her again.”
“Good to see you, too, Catherine.”
At the sound of their bickering, Kayla opened her eyes.
Kane stood inside, leaning against the bookshelves on the side wall, out of the sun’s glare. He’d entered, but his wary expression told her he was by no means sure of his welcome. He might be uncertain, but he wasn’t unsure. Power and sexuality oozed from every delectable inch of him.
His penetrating stare shifted from Catherine to Kayla. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked in a controlled voice.
Her heart squeezed tight in her chest. Of course, she didn’t want him to leave. Yet how could she subject herself to any more pain? Whether she heard what he had to say now, or asked him to leave later, the result would be the same. He’d pick up and go. His intentions had always been clear. She’d just been too stubborn to heed them.
Kayla exhaled, knowing she had no choice. She loved him enough to hear him out, even if it was just department business that brought him. The thought nearly suffocated her.
She turned to her sister. “Catherine, I think you should go.”
Catherine shrugged and headed for the desk chair where she’d deposited her coat. “Your choice. I just hope he proves himself worth it.”