And he wasn’t a teenager. He stood well over six feet tall and his broad shoulders almost spanned the doorway of her room.
“Brock,” she said again. “Is it really you?”
He nodded. Then his gaze dropped down her body, rising ever so slowly again until his gun metal-gray eyes met hers once more. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He just stood there, staring at her with a look of stunned disbelief on his face.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her mind whirling. Brock hadn’t been in the house for over a decade. At one time, he and her brother Tony had been inseparable, sharing a love of fast cars and even faster women. He’d certainly never given Kate, a chubby teenager with pigtails, a second look.
But she’d been a little wary of him anyway. He’d always dressed like a tough hood, with clothes that never seemed to fit his gawky body. He’d never talked much either. And she knew he’d gotten into his share of trouble. It all culminated when he got in a fight his senior year in high school—with Todd Winslow of all people—and had been expelled. Brock had joined the Navy the next day and she hadn’t seen him since.
How ironic that the boy he’d beaten up was the man she’d been fantasizing about just a few minutes before. She wondered if Brock even remembered Todd Winslow, or knew how well he’d done for himself. But judging by his expression, Brock didn’t even remember her.
Then a slow smile curved his mouth, transforming his face into one of the most handsome she’d ever seen. “Katie the Pest? Is it really you?”
She took a step closer to him, surprised to feel a slight wobble in her knees. She held out her hand. “It’s just plain Kate now.”
“Hardly,” he breathed, grasping her hand and pulling her toward him for a hug.
Kate sucked in her breath at the hard strength of his body. Brock Gannon had definitely grown up. She felt the scrape of his whiskers against her cheek and the contour of his finely honed biceps beneath her fingertips. At last, she stepped away from him, a blush warming her cheeks. From the way he was staring at her, she wasn’t the only one disconcerted by the unexpected reunion.
Then it hit her. Brock was looking at her like that because of the skirt. It obviously still worked. But rather than relief, she felt a twinge of disappointment. Brock probably wouldn’t have given her a second glance except for this skirt. The adrenaline rush she’d felt at his arrival began to fade away and the question she had when she first saw him standing outside her bedroom door came back.
“How did you get into the house?”
He hesitated a moment. “The door was open.”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe I forgot to lock it.” She must have been so excited about trying on the skirt that it had completely slipped her mind.
“I just walked right in.” He smiled. “I guess old habits die hard.”
She knew her parents’ house had once been like a second home for Brock. His own home life had been less than ideal, according to her brother Tony. The tiny apartment he shared with his mother was in a seedy part of town, most of their furniture and clothes secondhand. His mother worked nights as a cocktail waitress, leaving Brock to fend for himself. Which was why he’d spent most of his time at the Talavera’s house.
But that was over a dozen years ago. She found it a little odd that he had just walked right in and up the stairs to her bedroom. “What brings you to Seattle?”
He hesitated a moment. “I came for the party.”
“Oh.” She’d sent an invitation to his mother, asking her to pass it along to him, but hadn’t heard a word from either of them. “I never got your RSVP, so I just assumed you weren’t coming.”
“I hope it’s not a problem.”
“No, of course not…” The sound of voices emanating from the living room made her grab his arm. “It’s Mom and Dad! They can’t see you here.”
His brow furrowed. “Why not?”
She pulled him into her bedroom, then swung the door shut. “Because then they’ll know something is up. I’m throwing them a surprise anniversary party. If you suddenly show up after all these years, I know they’ll suspect something.”
“Do you want me to climb out the window?”
“You’ll break your neck if you do. I’m on the second floor. Just stay in here until the coast is clear.” A knock at the door made Kate jump.
“Katie, can I come in?” Rose Talavera asked from the other side of the door.
“Just a minute, Mom.” Kate whirled toward Brock. “Get under the bed!”
“How about the closet?”
“There’s no room in there.” She pushed him down toward the floor, then watched him scoot under the bed.
Her father’s voice emanated from the hallway. “Why are you standing out here, Rose? Where’s Katie?”
“She won’t let me in,” Rose replied.
“Are you all right in there, Katie?” Sid Talavera called through the door.
“I’m fine,” she shouted as she straightened the bed ruffle to conceal the six feet, two inches of male hiding underneath. Then she sat down on the edge of the mattress. “Come in.”
The door opened and her mother and father entered the room. Sid was a building contractor, his burly frame a testament to his profession. Rose was a head shorter than her husband, with full, pink cheeks and a ready smile.
Rose looked around the bedroom. “I thought I heard you talking to someone.”
“Just myself.” Kate stood up and twirled around. “Thank you for fixing the skirt, Mom. It’s perfect.”
Sid frowned. “It’s a little short, isn’t it?”
Rose smiled. “So, some men like to see a bit of leg. What’s wrong with that?”
“All I’m saying is that there’s not very much material there. And I don’t know why both of you have been so excited about this skirt. I was expecting to see sequins or something a little more dazzling.”
“It’s subtle.” Rose reached out to brush at a small spot near the hem. “Men like subtle. And they like legs. It’s a good combination.”
“I still say my Katie doesn’t need some magic skirt to win a man. They should be falling at her feet like flies.”
Kate’s cheeks burned as she thought of the man currently laying in the proximity of her feet. She never should have told her parents about the skirt. Or it’s effect on men. But she couldn’t worry about that now. She had to find a way to get Brock out of the house without her parents seeing him.
“Well, some men need a shove before they will fall,” Rose said, rising to her daughter’s defense. “And if the skirt can help give them that shove, what’s the harm?”
Sid still
