seat.
Ken leaned back in his chair. A small frown drew his black brows together. “I’ve done it again. I’ve sent you into a state of total panic.” He pushed his plate aside and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “After you left this morning, I sat down and made up a plan…which I have now screwed up. I thought I’d be on my good behavior for the next two days. Make sure everything stayed platonic so we could get to know each other better.” The contrite tone left his voice, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. “And then by the weekend you’d see what a great guy I was and jump into my bed.”
Chris opened her eyes wide and wrinkled her nose. “That’s disgusting.”
“It’s not disgusting. It’s human nature. I’m a perfectly healthy, sexually average male…”
Chris opened her eyes even wider. Healthy, yes. Sexually average, never.
“…and my life has been crazy ever since I met you. For three days now I’ve walked around in a constant state of…ah…arousal. In the beginning, I didn’t know why I was so attracted to you. It was just one of those things that happens…like catching a cold. You don’t know how you got the damn thing, but it’s obvious you’re gonna be stuck with it until it runs its course. Now I find out that not only do you drive me crazy, but I like you. I like the way your face glows when you talk about Lucy. I like the way you wrinkle your nose and open your eyes wide, and that you laugh easily. I even like the way you get mad when you’re cornered. You’re a lot like me. We sputter and stomp and before you know it there’s no more anger. I like your bravery and your strength and the fact that you try to make the best of any situation.”
He paused and let his face relax into a satisfied smile. “And I love your macaroni and cheese.” He covered her hand with his, sending a thrill racing up her arm. “Honey, you have to understand that this is hard for me, too. I’ve never felt like this about a woman before. I’m not exactly sure how to handle it. Last time I can remember having this little control over myself was in seventh grade.”
“Seventh grade?”
“I was precocious,” he bragged. “And I thought I was in love with Mary Ann Malinowski.”
Chris rose and stacked the plates. “But now you know you weren’t in love?”
“I was in seventh-grade lust. And I was incredibly impressed with myself. The only permanent result of it all was a seventh-grade average that matched Mary Ann Malinowski’s IQ. I would have been better off if my average had matched her chest measurement.”
Chris was beginning to hate Mary Ann Malinowski. “That big, huh?”
“She was known as ‘the Wondergirl.’”
“Were there other girls after Mary Ann that you thought you were in love with?”
Ken carried the almost-empty casserole into the kitchen. He lounged against the sink and looked thoughtful. “There were girls that I found very attractive. There were girls that I regarded as very good friends.” He shook his head. “No. There’s been an unusually large gap between the great love affairs of my life.” He measured coffee into the coffee maker. “I used to think it was a matter of time. While I was in school I was always scrambling for grades. I was the first person in my family to get a college diploma. My father was determined to see me graduate, and I wouldn’t have disappointed him for anything.” Ken grinned. “But it was tough. I’m not exactly the brainy type. I studied until two in the morning, and I still couldn’t get the hang of French. I failed courses, and I made them up in summer school. I graduated five hundred sixty-seventh out of a class of six hundred and twelve.”
A college degree. That was something Chris hadn’t suspected. “A carpenter with a college degree?”
“After college, I got fired from fourteen jobs. I was not your ideal employee. I couldn’t stand sitting indoors at a desk. And I felt strangled in a tie. Finally, I said the hell with it all and started working as a carpenter. And here I am. I don’t do much carpentry work, anymore, but I’m still in construction.” He took the freshly brewed coffee and put it on a tray. “I used to think that all these years I’d been too busy to fall in love. Now I think that the right person just never came along.” He playfully tugged at an orange curl. “I’m busier than I’ve ever been, and I’m hopelessly in love with you.”
“You thought you were hopelessly in love with Mary Ann Malinowski.”
“True. But you don’t have the…attributes…she had,” he chuckled. “This time it must really be love.”
Chris sniffed indignantly. “There’s nothing wrong with my…attributes.”
He looked at her longingly. “You have beautiful attributes, but if I’m going to stick to my plan I’d rather not think about them.”
“Maybe your plan isn’t so bad.” Chris added two ceramic mugs to the coffee tray. She looked into his clear blue eyes and felt a warm rush of pleasure at the affection she saw there. She hated to admit it, but it was nice having Ken around. And it was nice having a man look at her like that. “I’d like to know you better.”
He leaned forward and kissed her very softly. He drew away with no attempt to deepen the kiss. His eyes prolonged the moment with a silent, visual caress that lingered on her lips.
Chris thought about the second part of his plan. The part about jumping into his bed, and she wondered how she would ever last until Saturday.
Ken sighed. “I’m not even going to attempt a guess at what that smile means.”
“Maybe we should take our coffee downstairs.”
Chapter 6
Ken leaned forward in concentration, his right hand hovering over his queen. Finally, solemnly, he moved the antique ivory carving. “Check. Checkmate,” he concluded.
Chris pressed her lips together in irritation. For the last two nights he’d beaten her consistently at chess, cribbage, Scrabble, two-handed pinochle, hangman, and Monopoly. Monopoly was the worst. He’d immediately landed on Boardwalk and Park Place, built hotels on all his property, and bankrupted her with such enthusiasm that it sent chills down her spine at the thought of him turned loose on corporate America. At least he wasn’t patronizing, she concluded morosely, trying to find something positive in her latest defeat.
Ken moved the chess board from the couch to the coffee table. He glanced at his watch. “It’s ten-thirty. You must be tired.”
“A little, but it’s Friday and I can sleep later tomorrow.”
“Do you teach on Saturday?”
“I have a few lessons during the public skating session. And then there are freestyle sessions from four to seven.”
“About this freestyle…”
“Umm?”
“What is it?”
“That’s when the competitive skaters practice.”
Ken stretched his long legs in front of him as he sank back into a corner of the couch. “I figured, but I’m not sure why it’s called freestyle.”
“Freestyle refers to the type of skating. It’s a time when jumps, spins, and routines are practiced. When the ice dancers train, they have their own time called a dance session.”
“Ice skating is a strange sport.”
“I always thought football was a strange sport.”
“Point taken.”
Chris curled her legs under her and watched Ken. His eyes were turned toward the fire flickering in the fireplace. His lean, hard-muscled body reclined along the contours of the couch, reminding her of a powerful jungle cat enjoying the warmth of the sun. His glossy black hair curled over his ears and joined the close-cropped beard. His chest rose and fell slowly under a soft red plaid flannel shirt. He had learned to cook eggs, roast chicken, and bake brownies-just for her. He had kept the house neat, thoughtfully turned the porch light on to welcome her home each evening, and kept her mind occupied with games played in front of a roaring fire every night after dinner. He had followed the plan and allowed her some space to get to know him without sexual involvement. But the sexual involvement was always there. The extraordinary attraction they felt for each other constantly simmered below the surface. There were unguarded moments when raw hunger flared across Ken’s face and her own skin burned with the desire to mold itself against his hard body-and he would ease the tension with gentle teasing. “Think you can
