but was now here. He sat at a nearby table with a pint of beer in his hand, looking totally comfortable and at ease. In his jeans and long-sleeved black T-shirt, he had that carefree, I-don’t-care-what-you-think, sexy style down. Not that she thought he was sexy. Her type of sexy, that was.
Oh, she’d once been tempted by bad boys, but her sister’s experience had made Serena immune to their charms. Her sister, Morgan, had fallen in love with a guy who’d had women calling him day and night. He had no steady job nor seemed to want one. Morgan had moved in with him anyway and then married him, claiming he loved her and would change. He hadn’t and didn’t. Serena had been the one to pick up the pieces when his infidelity destroyed the marriage and left her pregnant sister devastated and alone. Their parents still hadn’t forgiven Morgan for falling in love with the wrong man and “ruining” her life.
“What do you mean by that?” Serena asked.
He motioned to an empty seat.
She really shouldn’t.
She really wanted to.
Kane pushed the chair out from the small round table with his foot. “You can buy me a drink for this morning.”
Her mouth curved. “You already have one.”
“I wouldn’t mind another.”
She did owe him for dropping off the box on time, even if he had waited until the last possible minute. She sat, grateful the moment her bottom hit the leather chair and she was no longer standing.
“Oooh,” she moaned.
His brows lifted. “You’re easily satisfied.”
She flushed. “I should look into designing a high heel that could be worn for fourteen hours straight without causing foot pain.”
“I meant the guy. For a woman who’s practically engaged, you seemed pretty chummy with Mr. Suit.”
Each time Serena heard that phrase—practically engaged—she felt as if another heavy bolt of fabric had been stapled to her shoulders. And right now she didn’t like the judgmental tone of Kane’s voice. He didn’t know her. He knew nothing about her. “Are you a pilot or a chaperone?”
“Pilot. Unattached. But if you were my girl—” his gaze traveled over her with lazy appreciation “—I sure wouldn’t want you having dinner or cozying up with another man.”
Tingles shot through her and she sat straighter. Her reaction had everything to do with being tired and nothing to do with him. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not your girl, isn’t it?”
“A damn good thing.”
Serena winced. She wasn’t used to such rudeness or honesty. She didn’t know what to say. That left her more than a little flustered. She could always be counted on to find the right words or do the right thing.
“Let me guess,” he continued. “Your boyfriend is a carbon copy of the guy you were with.”
“Malcolm Rapier is the guy’s name, and he’s a little like Rupert.” Only better. Malcolm was a better dresser than her ex. “He’s a fellow designer and a friend.”
“Who wants to be more than a friend.”
It wasn’t a question. “And you know this because…”
“I’m a guy.”
“And guys know everything.”
“You said it.” Kane raised his glass.
“Malcolm likes pretty things,” she said.
Kane took a swig of beer. “Things?”
“Women.” She didn’t know why she was wasting her time explaining things to him. “Malcolm likes to be seen escorting attractive women around. You know, arm candy.”
Which was probably why he wanted her to move to Seattle. A built-in date to take to social functions. Not exactly the strongest foundation for a lasting relationship.
Kane’s mouth quirked. “Modest, aren’t we?”
“You asked.”
“I did.” A beat passed. “So Rupert—”
“Doesn’t worry.” The words tumbled from her lips. Not exactly a lie. Her ex-boyfriend didn’t care what she did. “There’s no need.”
“You’re a one-woman man.”
“Yes, I am.” When she had a man. “I’ve never understood people who play the field.”
“As long as the individuals involved know what’s going on, I don’t see a problem with it.”
“That’s because you’re a guy.”
“Women play the field, too,” Kane said. “Otherwise, it would get mighty lonely out there.”
“Were you lonely tonight?” she asked.
“No.” He swirled his glass. “I had dinner with a lovely bridesmaid who had only one thing on her mind.”
“What was that?”
“Becoming a bride.”
Serena laughed. “You don’t want to get married?”
“Nope,” he said. “Marital bliss isn’t for me.”
She wasn’t surprised. He didn’t look like husband or daddy material. But if a woman were looking for a temporary lover instead of something more permanent…
“What do you want?” Serena asked, curious.
He got a faraway look in his eyes. “Freedom.”
She’d never known freedom in her entire life. She was always working toward something, fulfilling an obligation or meeting a responsibility. “I’m sure that must be nice.”
“You should try it sometime.”
Temptation sparked. And then she thought about her parents. She couldn’t do anything to upset them. “Not my style.”
“Mr. Suit is your style?” Kane asked.
“Pretty much.”
“Too bad.”
“Not for Mr. Suit.”
He nodded then stopped. “Except for Rupert.”
“Ah, yes. Rupert.”
“Women like you need to open your eyes,” Kane said. “The perfect guy could be right in front of you, but if he wasn’t your ‘style’ you’d walk right by and miss your chance.”
“Love will find a way.”
Kane
