A Kick in the Pants (a Riley O'Brien & Co. novella) Page 4

The side of Jake’s mouth hitched up. “Not exactly. One night after work, Charlie asked me to pick him up at Saint Phil’s. I couldn’t reach him on his phone when I got there, so I went inside. While I was looking for him, I walked by the nursery. It was full of babies, and all of them were screaming at the top of their lungs.”

  He shook his head. “They were so loud, I could hear them through the glass. There were only a couple of nurses in there, and even if they’d held a baby in each arm, they couldn’t have held them all.”

  Jake shifted restlessly, crossing his ankles and then uncrossing them. “Charlie found me standing in front of the nursery. He didn’t say anything, just used his badge to get us inside. Before I knew what was happening, I was wearing a paper hospital gown over my clothes and holding a baby that had been born to a fifteen-year-old heroin addict. He had a bad case of NAS. I mean bad. I cuddled him for hours before Charlie dragged me home.”

  The image of a big, strong guy like Jake cuddling a tiny, helpless baby as it went through withdrawal made Kyla’s heart feel swollen and raw. She didn’t have a crush on this man. She was halfway in love with him.

  “What was the baby’s name?” she asked, knowing that Jake wouldn’t have forgotten, no matter how many years had passed.

  “Jesse.” He smiled wistfully. “He was lucky. A couple from Sausalito adopted him.”

  The arrival of phlebotomist ended their conversation about cuddling. “How’s it going?” She checked Jake’s bag first before turning her attention to Kyla. “Looks like you’re done.” She winked at Kyla. “That was fast. Something got your blood flowing.”

  After expertly removing the needle and bandaging Kyla’s arm, the phlebotomist said, “One full glass of apple juice or lemonade and at least two cookies. Don’t leave until I give you my blessing.” When Kyla hesitated, not wanting to leave Jake, the phlebotomist made a shooing motion with her hands. “Go. You need to replenish your fluids and stabilize your blood sugar.”

  Following orders, Kyla rose from the donation chair. As she reached for her phone, Jake’s fingers tangled with hers. The feel of them, warm and slightly rough, sent a tiny tremble through her stomach.

  “Grab a drink and a snack and then come back to me.” When she hesitated, his fingers tightened. “Please.”

  *****

  Jake was doing his best to ignore the huge-ass needle protruding from his radial vein, but it wasn’t easy. At least Kyla was there to distract him. She sat sideways on the chair next to him, sipping lemonade and nibbling cookies.

  He always dreaded the annual blood drives. In the past, he’d made a point of being the first person to give blood so no one would witness it when he got sweaty and shaky. He had never come close to fainting, but seeing Kyla with a needle stuck in the smooth white skin of her arm had turned him inside out.

  After taking a sip of her lemonade, Kyla said, “I did a lot of volunteer work in college through my sorority, but I haven’t done anything here. I think it’s time.”

  “There’s always a need for cuddlers.” He shot her a questioning glance. “Do you like babies?”

  He wasn’t asking out of idle curiosity. Her answer was important, and he hoped her dreams aligned with his.

  “I’ve never been around any babies, so I can’t say for sure. But I know I want to have children someday. How about you?”

  “Yeah, I want a big family.”

  “How big?” she asked warily.

  “Four or five kids. I’m an only child, and I think only children are lonely children.”

  “I can’t imagine being an only child, although I’m sure my mom fantasized about it frequently,” she said wryly.

  He laughed. “I doubt that. Probably she only fantasized about it occasionally.”

  She rose abruptly and leaned across his torso. She was so close he could smell the citrusy fragrance of her shampoo.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, unable to hide his accelerated breathing.

  “Checking your output. Your bag is halfway full.” Turning her head, she smiled into his eyes. “You’re doing great.”

  Kyla nabbed a cookie from the stack beside her and took a bite. Several cookie crumbs clung to her lower lip, drawing his attention.

  “These are wicked delicious.”

  “Wicked, huh?” Jake smiled. “You can take the girl out of Boston, but you can’t take the Boston out of the girl.”

  “It just slips out,” she admitted with a grimace. “I’ve tried to break myself of the habit, but it’s too ingrained.”

  “I think it’s cute. There’s nothing about you that needs to change, Kyla.”

  “You are wicked wrong about that,” she quipped, making him chuckle.

  Her pink tongue darted out to gather the cookie crumbs, and a moan built in his throat. He tried to silence it, but he wasn’t entirely successful. A muffled growl escaped his mouth, and Kyla’s eyes shot to his face.

  “Are you in pain?” she asked, her face etched with concern.

  “I’m fine,” he lied.

  He couldn’t believe it, but he was getting hard, even with blood trickling out of his arm. His zipper was smashing his burgeoning erection, and there was nothing he could do about it unless he ripped the needle from his arm and sprinted to the privacy of his office.

  She sighed gustily. “You shouldn’t force yourself to give blood when you have phobias about it.”

  “Stop talking about my phobias.”

  “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Kyla said soothingly.

  He grunted. Embarrassed didn’t come close to describing the depths of his humiliation. He wasn’t thrilled that he had acted like a wimp in front of Kyla. At the same time, however, he was glad it had happened in front of her instead of someone else. He knew she would keep his secret.

  Trying to change the subject, he asked, “What do you think merits embarrassment?”

  “Getting your prom dress caught in the elevator doors and having it torn off you in front of your classmates,” she answered promptly.

  “Damn. That is embarrassing. Please tell me that didn’t happen to you.”

  She laughed, and the husky sound wrapped around him, warming him like a fluffy goose down comforter. She had a great laugh, sexy and sweet, just like her.

  “It happened to the reigning mean girl in my high school.”

  “Karma,” he replied succinctly. “What did she do when the elevator ripped off her dress?”

  Kyla stared into space, obviously back at her high school prom. “She just stood there in her underwear screaming at the top of her lungs while everyone circled around her, laughing and hooting.”

  “You weren’t one of them.”

  She jerked her head toward him. Her gray eyes, so much like the fog that swirled around the Bay, met his.

  “No, I wasn’t part of their group.”

  “That’s not what I meant. You didn’t laugh and hoot.”

  She blinked slowly, her long lashes feathering outward. “No.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I pulled a tablecloth off one of the nearby tables and covered her with it.”

  He nodded, unsurprised by her answer. She would never stand around and take pleasure from someone’s misfortune, regardless of how mean-spirited they were.

  “Was the mean girl mean to you?”

  “Her name was Megan.” Kyla smiled wryly. “And yes, she was mean to me.”

  “What did she do?”

  “Just the typical mean girl stuff,” she answered with a shrug.

  “Like what?”

  “Like bumping into me in the cafeteria.”

  It took him a moment to figure out why that was mean. “Oh. She made you drop your tray.”

  Kyla shook her head. “No. She made sure I didn’t drop it. She pushed it toward me so my lunch ended up all over me.”

  What a bitch. The thought of anyone abusing Kyla, emotionally or physically, made him want to smash something.

  “Why did she target yo
u?” He answered his own question because Kyla had just taken a drink. “I’m sure she was jealous. You were probably hotter than she was.”

  Kyla choked on her lemonade. He tried to lean over so he could thump her on the back, but the plastic tubing stopped him. She held up a hand to let him know she was okay, and after a moment, she stopped coughing.

  “You think I’m hot?” she whispered.

  “Uh…” he stammered, cursing himself for his verbal blunder.

  His comment about Kyla being hotter than the mean girl had just slipped out. He sure as hell couldn’t tell her the truth.

  Fuck, yeah, I think you’re hot. You’re so hot I can barely keep my hands off you. And I’m counting the days until I don’t have to.

  She stood abruptly, putting her chest even with his face. He got a glimpse of something lacy between the buttons of her lavender shirt, and his mouth tingled. He wanted to pop open those buttons, pull down the cups of her bra, and find out if her nipples were as pink as her lips.

  “Your bag is almost full,” she noted. “I’ll get you some lemonade and cookies.”

  He watched her as she walked over to the refreshments, her round ass perfectly outlined by a pair of Rileys. He silently thanked Amelia O’Brien for making over the Women’s Division and redesigning the women’s jeans. She had done a great service to all mankind.

  Quinn had initially hired Amelia to design a line of accessories for the company. Apparently he had liked the designs so much he’d asked her to head up the Women’s Division. And he must have liked more than just her designs since he had married her a few months later.

  Over the past two years, Amelia had completely transformed the Women’s Division. When she had taken over, it had been nothing more than an afterthought. Today, it generated more than a third of the company’s annual revenue.

  The phlebotomist arrived beside him, pulling his attention from Kyla’s mouthwatering posterior. She nodded toward Kyla.

  “She’s so sweet I just wanna eat her with a spoon.”

  “You’re not the only one,” he admitted as she slid the needle from his arm and dropped it in the red plastic container next to his chair.

  “She obviously feels the same way about you.”

  He looked up into her dark eyes, his heart thudding heavily. “She does?”

  She snorted. “So you’re one of those—cute but clueless.”

  He laughed. “Most people think I’m pretty sharp.”

  She pressed a piece of gauze against the puncture and folded his forearm up to hold the cotton in place. Deftly unwinding a length of stretchy blue tape, she bandaged his arm.

  He looked around her, tracking Kyla’s progress as she came toward him, her hands filled with a plastic cup and cookies. She sat down sideways in the donation chair and held out the refreshments.

  “I got you some snickerdoodles.”

  He swung his legs to the floor so they faced each other. Plucking a cookie from her hand, he took a bite. It melted on his tongue, a sweet, buttery treat spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg.

  “Damn, this is good. Much better than the cookies we had at the last blood drive.”

  The nurse pointed at Kyla. “This sweet thing brought them with her.” She winked at him. “Make sure you enjoy all those sweets, Mr. Afraid of Needles.”

  Trying not to think about all the ways he wanted to enjoy Kyla, he held up the cookie and asked, “You made these?”

  “No, my mom made them last night after the exhibition.” Her lips turned down at the corners. “I’m a terrible cook. If I had made them, you might have ended up in the ER needing your stomach pumped.”

  He chuckled at the glum expression on her face. “I’m sure you’re not that bad.”

  She shook her head. Shiny hair waved over her shoulder, glinting with shades of pale amber, gold, and honey.

  “No, I really am. Even though my mom is a world-class chef, every time I cook, something bad happens.” She sighed. “I made a romantic dinner for my boyfriend—”

  “What? You have a boyfriend?”

  She flinched a little, probably because he’d almost shouted the question. He had wondered about her sex life, but she had never, ever mentioned a goddamn boyfriend. He held his breath while he waited for her answer.

  “No, I don’t have a boyfriend. I was talking about the guy I dated in college.”

  He exhaled loudly, almost light-headed with relief. He didn’t know what he would have done if she had told him that she had a boyfriend. He scrambled to gather his thoughts. They had been talking about her cooking skills, or lack thereof…

  “So you poisoned your college boyfriend?”

  She flushed. “Not on purpose.”

  “Are you wanted for attempted murder?” he asked with a laugh.

  She scowled. “It’s not funny.”

  “What happened?”

  “He never told me he was allergic to cinnamon, and I made this pasta dish with butternut squash. It had cinnamon in it, and he ended up in the ER.”

  She looked so miserable he felt compelled to comfort her. “That wasn’t your fault. You were trying to do something nice for him. He should have warned you.”

  “The next time I cooked for him, I made shrimp scampi. It was my mom’s recipe, and she promised me it was easy. She said it was impossible to mess up.”

  “And?”

  “That time we both ended up in the ER with food poisoning.”

  He grimaced. “I’m sure that was awful.”

  “He broke up with me a few days later,” she said flatly.

  He could tell by the lack of emotion in her voice that her ex-boyfriend had hurt her badly. What a stupid dickhead, to give up a woman like Kyla over something so ridiculous.

  Jake would eat beef jerky for every fucking meal if it meant he could be with her. He wasn’t sure there was anything he wouldn’t do to be with her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Public speaking made most people anxious, but Kyla preferred it over casual chitchat. At least she was able to prepare for speeches and presentations, which reduced the risk of her looking and sounding like an idiot.

  Several hundred Riley O’Brien & Co. store managers had flown into San Francisco for their annual meeting. Although a presentation from the finance department hadn’t originally been part of the meeting schedule, the head of store operations, Mateo Morales, had squeezed Kyla and Jake in right before drinks and dinner.

  Kyla glanced out across the ballroom in the Hudson San Francisco. This was the first time she had visited the historic hotel, and even though she had grown up in a city rich with history, the building still impressed her.

  It recently had received a sixty-million dollar makeover, according to the hotel events manager. Although the renovation had preserved the hotel’s historic character, it also had included a twenty-first-century update.

  The ballroom and other meeting spaces featured the latest audio-visual technology, and Kyla had already uploaded her presentation slides to the hotel’s system. Currently, the cover slide filled the huge screen at the front of the room.

  She and Jake had spent hours preparing for this presentation, creating slides and outlining talking points. They had worked over the weekend to get it ready, and she hoped their hard work would impress at least a few people. Unfortunately, Kyla doubted their audience would be very engaged because everyone would be tired after a long day of seminars and ready for a glass of wine.

  After checking and double-checking everything in the ballroom, Kyla grabbed her bag and headed for the coffee shop she’d noticed when she had entered the hotel. The presentation wasn’t scheduled to begin for more than an hour, so she had time to enjoy a cup of tea and review her notes.

  As she walked down the deserted corridor, she texted Jake to let him know where she’d be. She didn’t want him to have to search for her when he arrived. He replied immediately, promising to meet her there with time to spare before the presentation began.

  She smiled down at her ph
one. That was one of the things she liked best about Jake—he always did what he said he would do. He had never let her down.

  She started to drop her phone into her bag when it dinged again. The text was from Vanessa. “Good luck on your presentation! Don’t forget to take off your mic if you go to the bathroom.”

  Laughing under her breath, Kyla wondered if Vanessa’s warning came from experience. She gave a lot of client presentations, and she’d had more than a few tech mishaps and wardrobe malfunctions.

  A few moments later, Kyla reached the double doors that led to the lobby. Before she could grab the handle, the door flew open. She lurched backward, trying to avoid being hit by the ornate wood, and stumbled on her tall, chunky heels.

  Big hands gripped her upper arms and stopped her from falling. She looked up, an apology on her lips, but it died in her throat when she got a look at the man towering over her. He was a fine male specimen. More than fine, to be honest.

  A navy blue pinstriped suit stretched over his broad shoulders, and the bright white of his shirt contrasted with his bronzed skin and glossy black hair. Except for his ocean-blue eyes, he looked as if he had Mediterranean ancestry, Greek or Italian, maybe.

  “Steady,” the hottie murmured before slowly releasing her arms.

  His voice was deep but lacked any foreign accent. Despite his exotic looks, he was as American as baseball and apple pie.

  She sucked in a breath, and the spicy scent of his cologne filled her lungs. He didn’t smell as good as Jake, but almost.

  He smiled slowly, showing off his white teeth and a dimple in his right cheek. “Hello.”

  “Hello.”

  Hearing how breathy her voice sounded, she cringed. As her cheeks heated, she realized only an inch or two separated them. Before she could put some space between them, he held out his right hand.

  “Garrett Gale.”

  “Kyla Andrews,” she replied, giving his hand a perfunctory shake.

  “I’m sorry I almost knocked you down. I had my nose stuck in my phone, and I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She adjusted her bag more securely on her shoulder. “It was nice to meet you, Garrett. Have a great day.”