The Chocolate Seduction. Carrie Alexander
the towel to her chest. Sabrina took a long look at the men, then bent at the waist to briskly rub her hair dry. She straightened, flinging the entire curly length of it back off her face. Her breasts moved beneath the top, rounding in the scoop neck before resettling, and Kit thought Parker was about to go into cardiac arrest. His own heart was jumping around in his chest like a caged monkey.
Unfazed, Sabrina threw the towel on the couch and put her hands on her hips. “Hi, gang. What’s up?”
Kit looked at Parker who looked at Vijay who was still looking at the ceiling.
“They’re here to help you move,” Mackenzie said. She stepped farther into the small, cozy room and plopped into a cushy armchair with an unexplained chuckle. She crossed her bare legs, pulling the robe over them. Kit had the sense that she was accustomed to sitting back and observing her sister’s untidy life with a fond, amused tolerance.
“Oh.” Sabrina’s nose crinkled. “All three of you, huh?”
“Muscle power,” said Kit.
“Such beautiful ladies should not be lifting heavy boxes,” Vijay said.
“The more hands we have, the faster it’ll go.” Parker forgot about ogling and cracked his knuckles. “Your new place is a third floor walk-up, hey? Big job.”
“Not as much as you’d think,” Mackenzie said from the depths of the chair.
“I appreciate the thought, guys.” Sabrina came forward and gave Vijay’s cheek a pat. “But it’s not exactly necessary.”
A lot of Kit’s reactions to Sabrina weren’t necessary, but he had them anyway. After undertaking years of travel and adventure while he tried to figure out his place in the world, he’d finally come to the point where he was ready to settle down and make a real home. By all rights, he should have been attracted to Mackenzie. She appeared to be precisely the kind of woman who would suit his new vision for his life. But he couldn’t get Sabrina out of his head.
“We want to help,” said a ruddy-cheeked Vijay.
“You might be fooled,” Parker said, putting a hand on his midsection, “but this isn’t fat—it’s muscle.”
“Of course it is.” Sabrina reached out and squeezed Parker’s biceps. “One-hundred-percent muscle.”
“We’re here,” Kit said. “You might as well take advantage of us. We have a cab waiting outside, but we can also call for a van….”
Sabrina cocked her head to aim a smile his way, but she didn’t turn toward him or touch him. He tried not to feel seriously deprived, especially when he saw the chili pepper tattoo on the back of her bare shoulder. That tattoo had been driving him crazy for a week, peeping out from under the straps of her sleeveless dresses and tops, never quite showing itself.
“The thing is,” she said, “I travel light. Did you see the stuff in the hallway?” She gestured. “That’s all there is, aside from a garment bag and bunch of cleaning supplies that Mackenzie’s going to lug over so she can scrub out my new place.”
“You don’t have furniture?” Vijay asked, dismayed.
Parker was gleeful. “Man, this is the best moving job ever.”
Kit clapped his hands, being brisk to cover up his dismay at discovering that Sabrina was as flighty and footloose as he’d suspected. “Let’s load up then. Our cab’s waiting.”
He knew what it was like to travel light, had been that way himself for years. But he’d had enough of that lifestyle. Everything had changed for him a couple of months ago when he’d stood over a gravesite in Cleveland and said goodbye to the only family he’d had left. Now that he was completely and utterly alone, he finally understood how important it was to make a bond, to build a family, to have someone to hold on tight to.
First step was finding that someone.
Sabrina Bliss was the slippery type. Not what he was looking for.
“I can do it myself,” she was insisting, but the men were already discussing who should take which end of the futon. Kit solved the problem by slinging the awkward bundle over his shoulder. “Wait, let me get my shoes,” Sabrina said as he grabbed a string-tied shoe box and headed out. Mackenzie had already run off to the bedroom to change.
The luggage and the shoe boxes went into the cab’s trunk. Kit had to wedge the futon, folded like an overstuffed crepe, into the back seat. Sabrina loped out of the brownstone in sandals, her damp hair flying behind her. She climbed into the cab with her garment bag and a big straw satchel, sliding herself into a space beneath the futon.
Kit asked the driver if it was okay for a passenger to sit up front. “Mackenzie?” he said, opening the door.
She rattled down the stoop with a mop and a broom and a bucket filled with assorted cleansers, dressed in comfy sweats with her house key held between her teeth. “Mmph.”
He got her settled, then peered in the back of the cab. “Room for one more—the muscle of this operation.”
Vijay and Parker bumped into each other trying to get there first, but Kit moved nimbly past them and bent one end of the futon so he could squash it down and fit inside, his legs arranged like puzzle pieces. “Take the next cab,” he said, winking to the losers as the taxi drove away.
Sabrina stared straight ahead for a silent minute. “But Vijay doesn’t have the street address,” she said after they’d turned the corner onto Ninth Avenue.
“Damn,” Kit said cheerfully. Her thigh was pressed against his and he could feel the dampness of her hair seeping into his T-shirt. Her shampoo smelled like flowers in the rain.
Sabrina didn’t seem too concerned. “I guess we can manage on our own.” Her eyes slid sideways toward Kit. “Seeing as the muscle’s here.”
Mackenzie hooked a hand over the seat back as she turned to speak to them. “But that was rude, leaving Parker and Vijay at the curb when they were nice enough to…” Her voice trailed off when she saw that Kit and Sabrina weren’t really listening.
They were looking into each other’s eyes, pushing the rolled and folded futon down across their laps. “I’ll make it up to them,” Sabrina murmured.
“I’ll buy them beers after work.” Kit had never been this close to her. Her lashes were brown, and one of her eyes was slightly darker than the other, hazel mottled by green and gold flecks. Her nose was narrow, with a sharp tip, but her mouth looked soft, especially when she wet her lips. She didn’t have on a speck of makeup and he could see a couple of freckles and tiny dots of moles, plus a thin white scar on her chin and small lines around her mouth—imperfections that made her even more perfect. He thought that she was the kind of girl who wouldn’t care if her hair got tangled in the wind. She would exchange fun days in the hot sun for a few extra wrinkles later on. She’d laugh and frown and wear her expressions on her face without scheduling Botox injections first.
The lonely boy inside Kit wanted her as a friend. The man on the outside simply wanted her.
“You can come, too,” he said, “for beer.”
“I have the whole day off.” Her mouth, which was wide, became even wider when it stretched into a quick grin. “I needed it to make my big move, although I may have exaggerated the undertaking to Dominique and Curt.”
“You do have to wait for the cable guy. That could take all day.”
“Not on a Sunday. Besides, I don’t have a TV. Maybe I can wangle another day off to wait for the phone guy.”
They could have a fling, Kit thought. Sabrina was a flingy kind of woman. Just because he hoped to settle down didn’t mean every date had to be taken with serious intentions. It would be okay, spending several weeks, maybe a month—or two—with Sabrina. From the little he knew of her work history, and going by the severe lack of possessions, she didn’t stick with anything