Steady (Indigo) Read online

  “So how long have you lived in the neighborhood?” he asked.

  “Three years. I finished building my home about a month before Lola and Oscar built theirs,” she said. He nodded, taking a drink again, emptying his glass in one swoop. She watched that, too.

  “It’s a nice neighborhood, at least from what I’ve been able to see in the limited time I’ve lived there.”

  “Well, you do travel a lot,” she said matter-of-factly. His head whipped around to face hers, his smile falling away, scrutiny in his eyes now as he re-evaluated her.

  “I’m not a stalker or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking. You don’t have to worry about that. Just keeping track of the neighborhood comings and goings, is all.”

  “I didn’t think you were, or at least I would hope not. And, yes, you’re right, I do travel a lot, for business mostly, some pleasure. I like to keep busy,” he said, turning to look out into the gardens.

  “I know,” she said.

  “You seem to know a lot about me,” he said, turning to look at her again, speculation in his gaze.

  “I know a lot about most of my neighbors,” she answered, watching as the speculation cleared, but only just a little. “I’m a one-woman neighborhood watch system.” She hoped the humor made her seem less odd. “So where does all this traveling take you?”

  “Nowhere in particular.”

  “Right. Come on, you can tell me.” He was silent for a second, watching her again, measuring.

  “Well, mostly I travel for work. Most of my trips take me overseas—Japan, Singapore, mostly Asian countries, with some Europe thrown in there now and again. I like the travel, living in other cities, exploring them, discovering the people and their culture, their customs.”

  “How do you explore and discover?” she asked.

  He looked her over again, measuring once more. “Sometimes I’ll explore on foot or, if the roads are good and if the traffic is not too intrusive, by bike. I guess you already know that I’m gone for weeks at a time,” he said, watching her nod in affirmation. “Work provides an inexpensive way for me to see the world, which I enjoy tremendously.”

  “I’ve seen you on a motorcycle and with kayaks on your jeep. Do those go with you when you travel?”

  “You really don’t miss much, do you,” he said, leaning forward, laughing fully now, his elbows on his knees, the empty glass twirling in his hands.

  “Nope, all that time in the yard,” she said again, her chuckle joining his. He turned his head to her.

  “I mostly ride the motorcycle in the city, the kayaks I take out with G around here or to the Gulf. Sometimes we’ll take an occasional trip together to other parts of the country,” he said. “It’s harder now that we both work and are no longer students.”

  “You’re active,” she said, more statement than question.

  “Yes.”

  She looked over at him from beneath her lashes. The wind was blowing through his hair, and his eyes were moving around the gardens again.

  “Well, I’d better get inside. Let me give you back your jacket,” she said, standing up and handing it to him. “Thanks for letting me use it.” She decided she’d taken enough of his time; desperate woman in love was not the impression she wanted to leave.

  “No problem, and you’re welcome. It was nice meeting a new neighbor and talking to you,” he said, standing up along with her.

  “You, too. See you around,” she said, turning and walking away. He resumed his seat, his eyes following her, assessing her as she walked away. She was much shorter than her heels made her out to be; she was almost his height tonight. Who knew his neighbor was pretty; she wasn’t gorgeous, but pretty in that girl-next-door kind of way. She had smooth, dark-brown skin that filled in that small, barely-there white dress very nicely, and she was way interested in him. That he’d garnered almost immediately.

  Still, she was attractive—slender, with shapely, beautiful legs, and a thick head of coal-black hair. She had nice brown eyes, with long, thick black eyelashes, and her lips were full and covered with something really glossy.

  Her appearance tonight was so different from the way he usually saw her, no wonder he hadn’t recognized her. He’d only seen her dressed in work clothes that could easily belong to a field hand, and she was missing her nerdy glasses. He would have sworn before meeting her tonight that she wasn’t attractive at all. Who knew? It wasn’t a surprise to have found her out here, now that he knew she was his gardening neighbor.

  He looked around G’s gardens; they were indeed beautiful, he thought, his mind returning to Katrina and her mini-history lesson. He’d known G and his family from his college days and they’d remained in touch with each other, making time to take trips together. They had always shared the same passion for adventure, to pit themselves against the external, sometimes extreme, elements. He’d come tonight for G. People assumed he loved to party, that he was happiest in a crowd, but that was a misconception. He preferred his solitude. Most people also would be surprised to know that he usually gave parties a wide berth. They were so not his thing; all that standing around talking seemed like a waste of time when one could be outside, under the clear sky, away from the noise and demands of work, city, and life. The sooner he mingled, the sooner the New Year arrived, the sooner he could leave.

  ***

  An hour later Katrina sat in the back of a room taking in all the beautiful people dancing and talking. She was feeling more than a little buzzed; two more of those pink-and-yellow thingies had gone a long way toward making her more relaxed. She wasn’t used to drinking, but those pretty cocktails had been great. The world had become a beautiful, glittery place where anything was possible. She had taken off her shoes and pulled her feet up into the chair, tucking them underneath her body, and sat back to watch. It was a little less crowded in this room, which was a study or perhaps a small library.

  The people in here were into all sorts of things. Take that couple over there; they really needed to get a room. Nothing like watching other people make out to get one’s juices flowing, but, as always, there wasn’t anyone to take advantage of hers.

  Or maybe not, she thought, seeing Will enter with two other males. She’d bet good money Will would know what to do with her juices; a germ of an idea took root in her muddled head, now awash with too much alcohol, a flammable fuel for her ardor for one Will Nakane. She recalled watching many a woman on many a morning leave his home, all smiles, clinging tightly to him as he said goodbye. She could do clingy.

  Katrina watched as he walked into the room, one of three, all handsome, all sure of themselves and their looks. All dressed in suits, all but Will holding one of those drinks. She watched them talk amongst themselves for a while, watched Will laugh at something someone said, stealing her breath and making her insides all gooey. She watched as one woman, and then another, joined them, each leaving with one of the males until only Will remained, leaning against the wall, alone.

  “Okay, get your butt in gear,” Katrina’s inner drill instructor snapped. “It’s your turn. Hurry, before someone else takes him.” She bent over, slipped her feet into her shoes, and stood, taking a moment to get her bearings.

  Whoa, horsey, who is making the floor move? She stood still a second until it stopped and then proceeded to walk over to Will, not stopping until she stood in front of him. He was magnificent in that intense way of his, like he could handle whatever task was handed to him coolly and give it all back solved.

  His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Katrina,” he said, smiling. “You’ve had some more of those drinks,” he said, laughter in his eyes. He’d spotted her sitting in the chair when he’d entered, watching him and confirming his earlier assessment of her interest in him. He hadn’t come with anyone, unlike his two buddies, who had disappeared with their dates, and he hadn’t planned on leaving with anyone, either.

  He’d watched Katrina make her way over to him, swaying a little on her feet, and he had to fight back his laug
hter. Too many drinks, he imagined, although he wouldn’t have pegged her as the drinking type—she seemed way too serious.

  She stopped in front of him now, stepping in close and moving her arms slowly around his neck, pushing her face into the curve of it, swaying a little more. “No more talking,” she said.

  Okay, he thought, not so shy or quiet after all. He smiled again as his hand went around her back to help steady her. He pulled back, looking down into her eyes.

  “What are you doing?” he quietly asked, smiling softly, humor in his eyes.

  “Keeping you company. I saw all of your friends leave, desert you for those women, and I thought you might be lonely. We couldn’t have that, could we?” she said, drawing out each word as if speaking had become a difficult task.

  It had taken three of those drinks to get her to the point where she was willing to ask for what she’d been wanting from him for a long time. She felt bold, sexy, and invincible, like all the other women she had seen with him. Her newfound alcohol-induced courage had found a friend in her longstanding desire to be near him. She was feeling quite proud of herself for taking the bull by the horns, so to speak.

  She pushed herself closer, if that were possible, feeling the hard strength of him as she lowered her face back into the crook of his neck again. He smelled delicious and felt incredible, all hard male. She hadn’t been close to one of those in a long, long time. She moaned, softly but discernibly, breathing in the cool, clean scent of Will.

  “How many of those drinks have you had?” he asked, hearing her moan as she slipped her head back underneath his chin.

  “Three, I think,” she said. He was barely able to make out her words as he felt her mouth now moving against his neck. What was she doing?

  “How about we get you home,” he said, trying to pull back away from her. She pushed herself closer.

  “I don’t want to go home, unless it’s with you,” she said. He chuckled.

  “You don’t mean that; you’ve just had a little too much to drink,” he said. And as tempting as she was, he didn’t do women who were anywhere near drunk—too many potentially dangerous side effects. She seemed just a little tipsy, but one never knew for sure what people could do under the influence.

  He looked around the room for a spot to take her to sit, maybe find her ride so she could get home, but she apparently had a different plan in mind. It was approaching the midnight hour, and someone had started the downward count signaling the end of this year. He could hear her begin to count softly, her mouth now next to his ear. She’d only stopped kissing his neck a minute ago. When they reached the part about the Happy New Year, she turned his head with her hand and captured his lips with hers.

  She opened her mouth over his, her tongue moving in, aggressive in its desire to taste and tangle with his; because it was the New Year, and she was very tempting, he kissed her back, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, taking over. She moaned, her arms tightening around his neck, pushing herself in closer.

  And, because she felt so right in his arms, he gave into another need, moving his hands lower, pulling her hips in closer, moving her in a slow barely detectable grind, but one she felt down to her toes.

  She wanted this to go on forever, but he pulled back and looked at her with a strange expression on his face.

  “Let’s get you home,” he said. Hell, yes, she thought, now you’re talking.

  “Let’s get us home; your place or mine?” she asked. He shook his head, laughing a little.

  “I said, let’s get you home,” he said, reaching behind his neck to secure and remove her hands from him.

  “Let’s get us home,” she repeated.

  He laughed again, turning her, positioning her in front of him, preparing to propel her forward and out the door. Before he could move, she pushed back into him, her butt aligning against the part of him that was ready and willing to take her up on her offer. It had come to life after that kiss. She moved her hips slowly in a circular motion against him, her hands moving up and clasping his neck again. He let her move against him just for a second, giving in to her seductive pull before reaching for her arms and pushing them down to her side.

  “Let’s go, Katrina,” he said softly into her ear, a little breathless. Potent, she was turning out to be.

  “My place it is,” she said, walking out the door, if perhaps more crookedly than she was aware. He held on to her waist, continuing to guide her as she walked.

  “Did you come here alone?” he asked.

  “Nope, came with Claudia and Amber,” she said.

  “What do they look like?” he asked, stopping to look around. Big mistake. She turned, her arms around his waist this time, and resumed kissing his neck.

  “Katrina, who did you come with again?” he asked, again keeping his focus on finding her ride.

  “I came with friends. Where’s my phone? I’ll text them,” she said, moving her arms away and reaching for her purse.

  “Okay,” he said, watching her fumble for a while before deciding that, in the interest of time, he’d better send the text. “Let me,” he said, taking her phone from her hand. Great, it was the same brand as his.

  “Who should I text?” he asked.

  “Amber,” she told him. He found Amber’s name and typed in “looking for u, need 2 go.”

  “ICU” was the immediate response, and Will looked around, searching. He watched a woman walk toward them, obviously surprised to see Katrina nibbling his neck. She picked up her pace, hurrying over to them.

  “Katrina, I believe your friend is here to take you home,” Will said.

  “You’re taking me home,” Katrina responded.

  “No, I’m not,” he said softly, which was followed by her arms becoming vice-like in their grip around his waist.

  “So . . .” said her friend. “You are . . . ?”

  “Will,” he answered.

  “Will, huh? I’m Amber,” she said, her eyes narrowing, recognition dawning in them. But he couldn’t recall having ever met her.

  “Well, Amber, I think Katrina has had a little too much to drink. Maybe she needs to go home,” he said.

  Katrina turned her face around, her arms still locked around him. “Will is taking me home. It’s okay, he lives a couple of doors down from me. I know him and he knows me, don’t you, Will?” she said, giving him an exaggerated wink. “It’s not an imposition, is it, Will?” she asked, looking up at him, earnest, sexy and funny, which was an irresistible combination for him, at least tonight.

  He laughed. Fine. He’d wanted to leave, anyway. “Sure, I’ll take her home,” he said to Amber.

  “Kay,” Amber replied, watching him closely, her gaze penetrating and scrutinizing. Turning his attention back to Katrina, he said, “Okay, let’s get you to the door. Did you bring a coat?” he asked.

  “No coat with me,” she said, turning back into his body. “I’ve got this pretty sweater, though,” she said, looking down at herself. It was plenty warm enough for her next to his body. He took off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders again. He then walked them through the throng and out the front door. She was glue, stuck to his body, her hands gripping his waist. Once they’d reached his jeep, he leaned her against its side while he opened the door.

  “You’re really pretty, did you know that? Especially in your cycling outfit,” she said, looking at him, running her hand down the side of his face, desire on full display in her eyes. He opened the door, slipped her onto the seat, and reached for her seat belt. He didn’t have anything to say to that.

  She leaned forward and captured his lips again, surprising him. He pulled back, watching her through hooded eyes. He buckled her in. “And you taste good, too,” she added, falling back against the seat. He ran his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath before walking to the other side of his jeep and getting in. He looked over at her and saw that her dress had crept up. He reached over and secured the tails of his coat together, providing cover for her leg
s. He started the jeep and pulled away.

  After a few minutes, he glanced over at her; her head was leaning against the door, eyes closed. This could not be the same neighbor he had seen as uninteresting because he’d only seen her working in her yard. Always working in that yard. He knew few women—no, make that any women—who spent as much time in the yard as she did. She was so young; she couldn’t be much younger than his twenty-seven years, he thought, looking over at her again. Her eyes were still closed. Until now, he’d kind of felt a little sorry for her life.

  He drove most of the way home with her quiet; maybe she’d fallen asleep. He peeked over at her to find eyes staring back at him. He smiled.

  His smile was slow in forming. A lot went into that smile of his—sex, confidence, intensity, all the ingredients that gave it so much power. “You’re a sight to behold,” she said, serious now, her hand reaching over to trace his eyebrow, skimming his face lightly before moving downward to brush over his cheek.

  He smiled fully, finding humor in her. Her thumb brushed the small brackets on his face, a set on each side of his mouth, like he smiled and laughed often. He turned his eyes back to the road, and she moved her hands up and through his smooth, silky hair.

  Twenty minutes later, he arrived at her home and pulled into the drive. He opened the door, got out, and walked around to her side.

  “Where is the key to your door?” he asked. She reached into her bra, fished around for a while as he watched, spellbound, and then leaned forward and pulled out a key. She handed it over to him.

  “Do you need me to help you walk in?” he asked, the key warm in his palm.

  “Yes,” she said. She was much calmer now, no longer in her earlier attack mode. He put his arm around her waist and walked with her to the door, then unlocked it and walked her in.

  “Where is your bedroom?” he asked, looking around her home, taking in the spotless neatness of it. No clutter; a woman after his own heart.