Kane closed his eyes, and a vision of Kayla danced before them. Between a body made for a man’s touch and a heart-shaped face that would test a saint, he had the distinct notion he needed that edge more than ever before.
* * *
“It’s a baseball game, not a formal banquet.”
“It’s a date, not Chinese food with your sister,” Catherine countered. She threw a disgusted glance at Kayla’s old sweatshirt and jeans. “Are you trying to turn the man off before he gets to know how disgustingly smart you are?”
Kayla thought back to his references about her classes and how smart women turned him on. He couldn’t possibly know that much about her after such a brief meeting. It had to be a lucky guess. “I don’t want to look too eager,” she said.
“More like you don’t want to look too easy.” Her sister grabbed Kayla’s hand. Head held high, Catherine led the way to her bedroom, a short distance down the hall from Kayla’s own. With dramatic flair so opposite to Kayla’s more subdued actions, Catherine flung open the closet door and began riffling through the clothes inside.
“They won’t fit,” Kayla muttered.
“Maybe we don’t share the same bra size, but don’t tell me you don’t steal my clothes every once in a while.”
“Borrow.”
“What’s the difference?” Catherine held up a yellow shirt, made a face, and hung it back on the rack. “I know I swipe yours.” She came out of the small walk-in with a white fitted top and a faded jean jacket. Next came a pair of black denim jeans. “Here. Try these on.”
Kayla glanced at the outfit, more casual than her usual conservative look. Still, when she tried on the clothes, she had to admit she liked what she saw.
Catherine made a show of walking around her twice, hands on her hips in a judgmental pose. “Perfect. Better than all those trousers and silk blouses you wear. So stuffy—even Mama wouldn’t have left the house like that.”
“Mama liked to dress her own way,” Kayla said, thinking of the woman who had raised her girls alone. A woman with a heart of gold, but tarnished luck.
They hadn’t had much money, but their mother had always made sure she looked her best before leaving the house. Unfortunately her best too often fell short. She looked like what she was: the checkout girl at the local supermarket, an aging woman still attempting to look younger than her years. Until Catherine had taken over clothing shopping, the Luck sisters had usually gone to school looking like mini-clones of their beautiful, but flamboyant mother.
“Men definitely took notice,” Catherine said.
“Too bad she never gave them a chance. Maybe things would have been different,” Kayla mused.
“You mean maybe Mama wouldn’t have died of overwork and a broken heart? No. She chose her life.”
Catherine had a point.
“She liked pining for Daddy, that’s for sure. You ever wonder if Daddy pined back?” Kayla asked.
Her sister shook her head. “I think one kid scared him to death; two made him worse than a coward.”
“Do you really have to sound so…full of hate?” Kayla wrapped her arms around her waist.
“I don’t hate him. Actually, I don’t feel much about him at all. But truth is truth.” Catherine pinned her with her steady gaze. “I don’t think all men are like him if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Not in the ‘love ’em and leave ’em’ department,” Kayla agreed. “But in the ‘can’t keep their hands to themselves’ department, men are all the same.” After all, her parents had had Kayla and Catherine within one year of each other. If that wasn’t a prime example of too much lovin’, as her mother liked to call it, then Kayla didn’t know what was.
Catherine lowered herself onto her white lace comforter. “You know, a guy not keeping his hands to himself can be nice.”
For someone with Catherine’s confidence, maybe. Kayla joined her, staring at her fingers spread over her thighs. “Are you going out tonight?” Kayla asked.
“Clubbing. With Nick.”
Nick had been Catherine’s best friend for years. Kayla suspected he’d once been in love with her beautiful sister but Cat hadn’t been interested and Nick had moved on, apparently content as Cat’s best friend. Leaving Catherine alone.
Kayla narrowed her eyes and took in her sister’s miniskirt and tights, her stretch top that showed off delicate curves. Catherine didn’t have Kayla’s lush figure, but she attracted her own share of attention. Kayla admired her sister, but Catherine had her own share of insecurities. She covered them well, but the truth was obvious. Both Luck sisters had been scarred by their childhood experiences.
Each had reacted in a different way. Instead of becoming a social butterfly, Kayla had learned to push men away. Although she had a lingering desire for the traditional white picket fence, happily ever after, she knew better than to believe she’d find it or the perfect man to share her life with.
Catherine placed a sisterly hand over hers. “Maybe you’ve never found the right guy. The one who will put you first.”