Too Close to Resist. Nicole Helm

      CHAPTER SIX

      SQUEAKS, LAUGHTER AND chatter booming from the kitchen could only mean one thing. The whole McKnight clan had descended upon the house.

      Kyle sighed. They were a loud, gregarious, demonstrative bunch, and he avoided them as much as possible. Mrs. McKnight always, always hugged him. He never knew what to do about it. Mr. McKnight would pat him on the shoulder and tell him the same joke he’d been telling his high school baseball players since the beginning of time. “A man with a wood eye asks a girl with a harelip to dance. She says, ‘Would I? Would I!’ He replies, ‘Harelip! Harelip!’”

      Then there was Grace’s music teacher aunt who preferred singing to actual speaking, and a cousin who was always sneaking out for smoke breaks, not always of the tobacco kind. Added to all that noise and touching, the cousin’s four-year-old daughter always insisted on crawling into Kyle’s lap anytime he sat.

      Kyle turned in retreat. He would hide away in his office for a bit longer. His grumbling stomach would just have to wait.

      “Where do you think you’re going?”

      Kyle winced and turned to see an all-too-amused Grace standing in the hall between living room and kitchen. “Well, I...”

      She shook her head. “Who knew you were such a coward?” She advanced on him, and he would have backed away, but he wasn’t that big of a coward. Her hand latched on to his arm. “We’re all going out to dinner and you have to come.”

      “Oh, no, no.” Kyle tried to pull his arm away, but her grip was firm. “I have plans.”

      She narrowed her eyes. “Liar. Come on. A dinner with the McKnights is just what you need to lighten up.”

      “As I keep telling your brother, I’m plenty light.”

      She snorted and kept pulling him toward the noisy kitchen.

      And that was how Kyle found himself sandwiched between Jacob and Grace in a large booth at the Bluff City Pizza Hut.

      Kyle focused on his off-white plate etched with the knife marks of years of use while Grace’s aunt belted out an aria from some opera she’d recently attended, the four-year-old demanded money to play games and Jacob and his dad told old baseball war stories. Meanwhile, Grace’s cousin kept trying to talk to her about Barry while Grace kept trying to change the subject.

      “I saw him at the grocery store yesterday,” Paula was saying in a conspiratorial whisper the whole restaurant could no doubt hear. “He had on this black sleeveless shirt and there was this giant tattoo on his arm. He didn’t have that before, did he?”

      Grace fidgeted next to him and her bare arm brushed his. Luckily it was very hard to fantasize about someone whose leg was pressed against his when his other leg was pressed against her brother’s.

      “I’m not sure. Do you want me to give Bella some quarters for Pac-Man?”

      Paula waved her off. “No, no, no. I’ll get it in a second. Anyway, he bought a twenty-four pack of Natty Light and a carton of Kools and—”

      “Grace, did Jacob tell you that a client of ours is interested in buying one of your paintings?”

      The entire table went silent. Kyle wasn’t sure if it was because of what he said or because he was talking at all, but at least Paula stopped yapping about Barry.

      “What?”

      He kept his attention on his plate, having no desire to see what expression might be on any of their faces. “Jacob hung the painting of the river in the kitchen and a client of ours asked Kelly about it last week. She mentioned you were a local artist and they were very interested.” Kyle took a careful bite of pizza, chewed and, okay, damn it, he looked at her because he couldn’t not.

      Her eyes were wide; her mouth hung open a little. “Jacob, is he serious?” But she didn’t look at her brother. Her brown eyes stayed on Kyle’s face.

      “Well, I wasn’t going to mention it until the client made an appointment to see your stuff, but yeah. According to Kelly they were really excited about it.”

      “Gracie! Isn’t that wonderful.”

      The cacophony of a McKnight dinner returned, but everyone was too busy talking about Grace and painting to bring up Barry again.

      Luckily, Kyle wasn’t forced to talk after that, but somehow on the drive home he found himself in Jacob’s truck. Just him and Jacob. Kyle got the uncomfortable feeling they were about to have a discussion.

      “So,” Jacob began conversationally. “I saw what you did there.”

      Kyle shrugged, focused on the passenger window. “What where?”

      “The painting thing.”

      Kyle shrugged again. He had no desire to be called out on this. “It was news. I shared it.”

      “Yeah, at the picture-perfect time to shut up Paula rambling on and on about Barry. I’m supposed to believe that’s just coincidence?”

      Kyle didn’t know what to say. He wanted to forget about the whole thing and not have this conversation. “She seemed uncomfortable, so I changed the subject. I don’t see why this warrants a discussion of any kind.”

      “I don’t know. I think it does. The thing is, we’re friends. Have been for a long-ass time. I like you, Kyle.”

      “Is this where you warn me to keep my hands off your sister?” He was already doing everything in his power.

      “Actually, no.” Jacob pulled the truck into the drive, stopped the truck. “Whatever weird thing you and Grace have going on is none of my business and, what’s more, I don’t want it to be. I’m just saying this. I like you, Kyle. That’s why we’re friends.”