Dating the Guy Next Door Page 3

  “So he’s single?” Jenny raised a speculative eyebrow, and Kate groaned. They’d been friends since art college, and while Jenny had been a tower of strength when Harry had run off with the girl from the copy shop, she’d recently decided that it was time for Kate to “get back out there.” Unfortunately, Kate had other thoughts on the matter.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she warned before Jenny could open her mouth. “I hardly know the guy, and it’s not like I’m looking for a relationship right now. Or ever. In fact, let’s just accept that I’m never dating again and be done with the matter.”

  “Bull,” Jenny informed her roundly. “A gorgeous single guy just happens to turn up in your front window asking for help. It sounds like the work of a Greater Being if you ask me.”

  “I’m not asking,” Kate reminded her.

  “Well, you should be,” Jenny said. “You’re well and truly over Harry and you yourself said that this Matt Hunter is gorgeous. So what’s the problem?”

  “Just because you were fortunate enough to fall in love with Jamie after running over his toe with your grocery cart doesn’t mean that it’s going to happen to everyone,” Kate said, trying not to think of how when the going had got tough, her ex-husband had got going. That he’d simply decided that their life together wasn’t enough for him.

  That she wasn’t enough for him.

  It wasn’t the first time someone had deserted her, but she’d sworn that it would be the last, which was why it was so important for her to focus on her business, her independence and her cat. At least they wouldn’t let her down.

  “You can disbelieve all you want, but I think it’s more than a coincidence he hid in your shop. Besides, if you’re so uninterested, then why did you order him food?” Jenny refused to give up as she nodded to the bagel that Kate had bought.

  “Because you know the state of my fridge and I figured that if the women were still there when I got back he’d probably be starving,” Kate said, though she wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Jenny or herself. She quickly picked up the bagel she’d bought for him and put it into her overflowing purse.

  “Okay, I won’t give you a hard time. It’s just, I worry about you. You’re twenty-five. You have needs and if you don’t let those needs get met you might explode. Like a pressure cooker.”

  “Really? That’s the analogy that you’re going with?” Kate, who wasn’t a fan of cooking, rolled her eyes, but Jenny gave an unrepentant shrug.

  “So it’s not my best work, but you know what I mean. You’re scared to date, but that shouldn’t stop you from trying,” her friend said as she gathered a book of material swatches. “Anyway, I’d better go. I’m meant to be at the Ryders’ house in ten minutes to try and convince them there really is life after white walls.”

  “I’m sure they’ll hang off your every word,” Kate reassured her friend, pleased to change the subject. Not that Jenny needed reassuring. She’d set up her own interior design business after college and had gone from strength to strength.

  Jenny shot her a saucy look and tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. “I hope so, because I have twenty rolls of William Morris wallpaper just looking for a new home. And by the way, I’ve rented the clown costume for you to wear at Lucille’s birthday next month, and don’t forget that you promised to get her a Very Mary doll. That child has the memory of an elephant.”

  “Look.” Kate’s throat tightened at the mention of the birthday party Jenny was organizing for her daughter, and for the first time since Matt turned up in her studio, she wasn’t distracted by his dark eyes. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. I really don’t think I’m the right person for the job. You know what I’m like around kids.”

  “Nonsense,” Jenny said firmly. “Besides, you’re the only potential clown who can paint faces as well. And you know how much Lucille loves having her face painted.”

  Kate winced.

  Jenny had never been able to truly accept that Kate didn’t want children of her own and was always trying to get her to change her mind, a face-painting clown just being the latest in a long line of schemes. She knew her friend meant well, and she did agree that little Lucille was absolutely adorable. But no matter how much time she spent with the small child, Kate knew it wouldn’t make any difference to how she felt.

  She wouldn’t be changing her mind.

  She stiffened as the memories of her six-month-old baby brother, Andy, flooded her mind. She’d only been twelve when he’d died and while it had all happened a long time ago, the pain of waking up to a life without his fat, chubby limbs and gurgling smile had never gone away.

  “Besides,” Jenny cut in, obviously mistaking Kate’s panic for something else. “Lucille specifically asked for you. You wouldn’t want to let her down, would you?”

  Kate listened to the wheedling tone in her friend’s voice and knew that once again she’d lost. “I’m still not sure . . .”

  “Excellent.” Jenny swooped in like a buzzard to road kill. “You won’t regret it.”

  But Kate was already feeling a familiar lurch in her stomach as she watched Jenny head out the café door. Being around babies and small children was tough, but the thought of letting them down was even tougher.

  Still, the party wasn’t for a few more weeks, so she did what she’d always done. She pushed it to the back of her mind. After all, if it worked for ostriches, it could work for her. Then she quickly finished her muffin before reluctantly retrieving her bag and heading for her old van.

  It seemed to take ages to find her keys, and then there were the problems with readjusting her rearview mirror to her satisfaction. But finally she started the engine. As she turned left, the Space Needle seemed to be peering down at her, as if curious to why she was stalling. She was curious as well.

  After all, she had things to do. A million billion things to do. But they all seemed a little bit daunting when there was an Adonis sitting in the back of her studio.

  Because the truth was that Matt Hunter made her stomach do flip-flops, and right now she had no idea how to deal with them. She squashed the small voice at the back of her head, which demanded to know why she had to deal with it at all.

  Besides, it wasn’t really so unusual that she should be attracted to a man. She had been in the past, and no doubt she would be in the future. The point was there was nothing wrong with a harmless attraction because it wasn’t like anything was going to come of it. Regardless of what Jenny said, Kate knew better and she simply wouldn’t allow it.

  She’d worn that jacket once before and decided that she didn’t like the fit.

  When she’d fallen for Harry she’d been caught up in the heady whirlwind of her emotions and they’d been married within weeks of meeting each other. It had seemed so perfect, helped along by the fact that Harry had sworn that he didn’t want children either. And yet within six months of saying their vows, he’d left her for someone else. Someone else who was pregnant with his child. Which was why she’d promised to never again fall for a man who made her pulse race in such a giddy way in case she ended up right back where she started from. Alone and heartbroken

  Exhilarating relationships were for people who wanted to have it all. But that wasn’t her. She knew what she wanted and, more important, what she didn’t want, which meant that the best solution would be for her to say thank you to Matt for helping her out with Bernie, give him the bagel and then make sure that she never saw him again.

  ***

  “How did it go?” Matt looked up as soon as Kate walked into the gallery. Her stomach immediately reacted with a fluttering sensation. Then she blinked as she looked around the gallery. Something was different. “Did you get to the framer in time?”

  “I did.” Kate dragged her attention back to him as she handed him the crushed bagel bag and bent down to pat Socrates, who looked like he’d been glaring at
Matt the whole time Kate had been gone. It was entirely possible. “Though I can see that your women are still next door.”

  “Yeah, about that.” Matt’s jaw tightened as he let out a frustrated sigh. “I checked the radio website about half an hour ago and everything’s definitely been removed, plus they sent someone over to let them all know that the competition was no longer going.”

  “Did they use actual words?” Kate raised an eyebrow. As far as she could tell the numbers had increased not decreased. Matt let out a reluctant sigh.

  “I think some of the women thought it was a trick to throw them off the scent. They’re nothing if not persistent. But I’m hoping that by nightfall they’ll finally get the message.”

  “Nightfall? But it’s September. It won’t go dark for another six hours,” Kate protested as she tried to remember her resolution to avoid her gorgeous new neighbor as much as possible.

  “I know.” Matt shut his eyes and rubbed his brow before giving her a rueful smile that did sinful things to her stomach. “And I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am, but if it’s any consolation, I’m a great cook so at least I can whip you up something delicious as a thank you. Plus, I promise that I won’t get in your way.”

  “Matt—” She tried to protest but before she could Socrates took matters into his own hands and jumped onto the counter so that his fluffy tail was now in her face. As far as philosophical arguments went, it was a pretty poor one, but all the same she found herself sighing. “Okay. For the second time, yes, you can stay here a little longer. But your cooking had better be good.”

  “I’ve never had any complaints in the kitchen department,” Matt said with just a hint of a smile, and Kate realized that she needed to change the subject quickly or else risk falling even more for his charms.

  “Um, did Bernie show up?”

  “Ah yes.” Matt seemed to collect himself as he reached for a business card on the counter. “He confirmed that there’s no other asbestos in the place, which is good news, but that you’ll need the entire ceiling replaced. He’s going to call tomorrow with the quote.”

  Kate gulped. An overnight quote? That couldn’t be a good thing. She’d been hoping he would have a quick peek, punch a couple of numbers into his calculator and then give her a figure that would still leave change for dessert.

  “Oh, and your mother came by too,” he said, and Kate stiffened before realizing that he had noted her reaction. She gulped.

  “Er, thanks. I’ll call her later,” she said, trying to muster up more enthusiasm than she felt, since from her experience not everyone could understand the difficult relationship she had with Julia. Her mother had only been eighteen when Kate was born, and while she’d never said anything, Kate had grown up very aware that Julia’s life would’ve been very different if she hadn’t been a single parent with a small baby. None of which had been helped by the fact that the pair of them were polar opposites.

  Her mom was small, dynamic and the life of the party, while even as a child Kate had preferred her own company, reading or drawing. But their uneasy relationship had come to a head when Julia suffered a breakdown not long after Andy had died and Kate had been sent off to live with her grandmother—who still resented the fact that her daughter had thrown away her chance at a college education to raise a child.

  It had been difficult year and while Julia had physically recovered, the gap between them had been wider than ever. It didn’t exactly make for long, heartfelt chats on the phone. In fact, she couldn’t even remember when they’d discussed more than the weather and the price of real estate. Uneasy politeness would probably be the best way to describe it.

  “No, thank you,” Matt said as he took a bite of the bagel she’d bought for him. “I was starving. I guess selling paintings takes it out of you.”

  Kate immediately forgot about her mother. “Y-you sold a painting?”

  “Yes, a couple came in about an hour ago and fell in love with the one that had an owl, some pink trees and what looked like three pineapples.”

  “Tropical Paradise?” Kate glanced over to where the quirky take of Seattle in summer had once been, but all that was there was an empty wall space. So that’s what had been different about the place. “You sold Tropical Paradise?”

  For a moment she wondered if he was pulling her leg. But as she studied the way his strong, tapered hands were casually leaning against her small counter, she realized he was telling the truth.

  Perhaps it was from living with Harry that Kate had finally learned how to sniff out a lie at ten paces. Though, she admitted, it sure had taken a lot of practice. She’d finally discovered that whenever her ex-husband had been lying, he gripped his fingers tightly onto whatever was within reach.

  Not that she should really be comparing hands. Matt’s long fingers were tanned with carefully clipped nails while Harry’s had resembled a sausage factory. Funny she’d never noticed it when she’d first married him.

  “Yes, I did. Though why are you so surprised? You must know that you’re an exceptional artist.” Matt stood up and neatly put the empty bagel bag into the trash can before walking around her small studio.

  “T-thank you,” Kate said in surprise as she realized he was serious. Though she loved painting more than just about anything in the world, she still tended to get tongue-tied when she talked about her own work. Also, thanks to being married to Harry, who only liked to talk about one artist—himself—it wasn’t something she had spent much time doing. It also might explain why her business was doing so badly.

  “You’re welcome. Oh, and before I forget, here’s the check,” he said as he passed it over to her, his dark eyes never leaving her face. She reached for it, but as her fingers grazed his, a sizzle ran down the length of her body like an old-fashioned pinball machine.

  In fact, Kate was almost certain that her heart was making the same noise the machine flippers did when they tried to belt the silver ball back up to the other end. Any minute her eyes would start spinning around in their sockets to indicate a high score.

  “Is everything okay, Kate? You look pale.”

  “Fine.” She managed to drag her gaze away from his face. “But I really need to get back to work. I—I need to finish some sketches.”

  “Sure,” he said in an understanding voice. “But I was just wondering if you could do me a favor?”

  “You mean apart from letting you hide out in my studio for the day?” she said dubiously as she edged away toward the door. If his favor included standing within a five-foot radius of him, then she was going to have to decline on the grounds of saving her heart rate from further wear and tear.

  “I need some clothes and my laptop from next door.”

  Kate sucked in a lungful of air. Clothes sounded dangerous. Especially since to put on new ones, he had to take off old ones, and it was that stage in between that sent another silver ball off and spinning throughout her body. Then she realized that if he needed clothes he wasn’t planning to go home at all, which meant that he was intending to increase his stay. Kate froze.

  “Look, Matt, about this whole arrangement. The thing is that I have a really small apartment, and no spare blankets, and I still have a lot of work to do.”

  “It’s okay.” A small half smile hovered around his lips. “Thanks for the offer, but I hadn’t planned to invade your bedroom as well.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” She imagined that her cheeks were turning the same shade of burnt crimson she’d used in her Little-Dog-Jumping painting.

  “I know what you meant. And thanks for even thinking you had to extend your hospitality. You’re very kind but I won’t impose quite that much. If they don’t leave by the time we’ve finished eating, I’ll try and go out under the cover of night and stay at my sister’s house.”

  “Emma.” Kate slowly felt her senses returning to something bordering on normal.


  “Emma,” he agreed. “And her family.”

  “Right.” Kate nodded. “Who you babysit for.”

  “Correct. I’m sure the twins will be delighted to know they can continue chasing me around the playroom.”

  Kate raised an eyebrow in surprise. She hadn’t really pictured Matt as the playing-around-with-children type of guy. Perhaps it was the neat clothing?

  But then, looks could be deceiving, she decided as she admired his legs. She wondered what he’d be like out of his pressed pants and shiny shoes. Would he fold everything or would he let the heat of the moment overtake him?

  Stop. She hauled her imagination to a screeching halt. But despite herself, she could feel her pulse flutter at the very idea. Especially when she pictured messing up his neat person with some of the body paint Jenny had given her as a joke present last year.

  “So, will you do it?

  “Huh?” Kate blinked, wondering if the man in front of her was reading her thoughts.

  “Go and get me some things?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sure,” she managed to croak as she felt a trickle of sweat drip down in between her breasts. Why weren’t any of the windows opened? Was it hot in here or what?

  She waited until he walked back through to the studio to get his list of things and his house keys before she started to fan herself with the first thing that came to hand. The old paint-covered magazine seemed to do the trick and she slowly felt her heart rate return to normal.

  As the cool breeze caressed her face, she thought guiltily about her half-finished sketches. She’d been right. Matt Hunter was a complication. He was already affecting her work, not to mention her breathing. But then, he also managed to sell one of her paintings. Which was probably why her body was having such a powerful reaction to him. Gratitude.

  “Oh, and, Kate.” Matt’s head suddenly reappeared in the doorway and she quickly shoved the magazine back down under the counter. “Did you know you have a hole in one of your walls and your floorboards are creaky?”