LITMIR.BIZ

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pile of Perry’s cast-off shirts. In a fit of pique, she threw them into the fireplace. “They’ll make perfect kindling for my next fire,” she muttered. Hurrying into the entry she hoisted the suitcase she’d so recently lugged in. “Meanwhile, I’m catching the first flight to Chicago.”

      Jax was dog-tired when he got in from his long, tedious client dinner. Sometimes being a business productivity consultant reaped great rewards, both monetary and emotional. Other times, like tonight, it was like pulling teeth to get a company CEO to believe him when he outlined all they needed to do to increase productivity.

      “He wants my expertise, but he doesn’t want to hear what I’m saying.” He shrugged out of his suit jacket and tossed it on the muted green suede sofa, then headed upstairs to his bedroom. Loosening his tie, he noticed his answering machine blinking. Strange. Everybody knew his cell number and left voice mail. He didn’t even know why he still had the antiquated answering machine and land line. The truth was, he hadn’t had the time to get rid of them.

      Though he figured it was a telemarketer or a solicitation for donations, he pressed the button to hear the message. The instant he heard that voice, he froze in the act of pulling his tie from around his neck.

      It was Kim.

      After all these years of getting nothing but a few scribbled lines in Christmas and birthday cards—it was Kim. Her voice was so familiar it had become a part of him, a part he both loved and hated. As the message ended, he took a couple of steps backward, staggering slightly, and sat down heavily on his bed. “Hell.”

      Jax had only harbored one great passion in his life—Kimberly Norman. As a kid he’d been a distracted geek, way too intense, oblivious to the subtleties of high school social politics. But Kim never seemed to notice his shortcomings. She’d been his friend, laughed at his dumb geek jokes.

      She never seemed bored when they were together, even when he went on and on about circuitry or motherboards. She helped build more than one of his Science Fair projects, even though she never knew what he meant when he explained them to her. Or cared, for that matter. He always thought she was terribly cute that way.

      He knew about her unsettled home life, so his company was doubtless the lesser of two evils. Even so, she seemed to genuinely like being around him. And he loved having her around. Kim, the freckle-faced day-brightener, girl-next-door. He didn’t think she ever quite understood how lovely she was or how lucky he felt to be on the receiving end of her smiles.

      As a youth he adored her quietly. Years passed, years when he hoped for more than a friendship. But after he was kindly—but definitely—shut down following a few fledgling dates, he faced the fact that Kimberly needed him as a friend. She certainly didn’t need him as a suitor. By the time she was seventeen she had plenty of those. Her carrot-red braids had become a flowing, sexy mane of auburn flame. And no matter how much she hated the sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks, in truth they were a charming enrichment to her delicate features.

      When she came to him after breakups with boyfriends, he soothed her, grateful for that part of her she gave to him. But having her near, knowing she cared—but not enough—not in the way a man wants a woman to care, wore on him. He’d grown into a man, and a man could only stand so much. Finally, he’d had all he could stomach of her rebounding off him.

      That’s why he left St. Louis. That’s why he wrapped himself in his dot.com business. Then, after he sold that and became a consultant, he buried himself in his new enterprise. One day, he hoped to forget Kim, find some other woman who could fill the hole in his heart that he’d wanted her to fill.

      Unfortunately, it hadn’t happened.

      Not yet.

      He glared at the answering machine; the message light no longer blinked. “Why the hell couldn’t you have been a telemarketer.”

      He ripped off his tie and threw it to the carpet. “Did it never occur to you that your little ‘Jax Fix’ pop-in might be a problem for me?” He started to unbutton his dress shirt, then stopped, ran both hands through his hair. Moments ago he was bored and weary. Now he blazed with a crazy mixture of bitterness and longing. What was he going to do? “I’ll call her back,” he thought aloud. “Tell her I’m going out of town—on business.” He shoved himself up to stand and headed for the phone to check his caller ID for her phone number. “Better yet, I’m leaving the country, for—for a month.”

      He lifted the receiver, began to punch out the numbers. As he did, something strange happened. With each successive button he pushed, he slowed. By the last number, he had gone stock-still, his finger suspended above the number. “What’s wrong with you, man?” he gritted out. “Punch it! Before she leaves!”

      He winced at a sudden thought and checked the time she had made the call. Five-thirteen. He flicked a narrowed glance at his wristwatch. Ten-thirty-five. Reality lashed like a whip. Heaving an exhale as raw as a blasphemy, he lowered the phone to the ebony bedside table. If he knew Kimberly at all—and he knew her well—she was on her way.

      The doorbell chimed, thundering in the quiet like a tractor-trailer truck barreling through his bedroom. He wheeled toward the sound, resentful, infuriated, yet on fire for her. “Damn it, Kimberly!” he ground out in a burst of frustration and rage. “I refuse to be your rebound man again. If you can’t be my life, I want you out of it!”

      He headed for the front door. With every step he repeated his manifesto to resist her.

      Could he?

      This time?

      “Of course you can, you stupid ass.”

      Stark, lung-constricting, muscle-cramping doubt twisted his insides.

      CHAPTER TWO

      THE instant Jax opened his door she leapt at him. Womanly curves registered cruelly on every nerve ending her body touched. Arms encircled his neck and feathery kisses dampened and warmed his tensed jaw. He squeezed his eyes shut, in pain. This wasn’t doing his vow to resist her any favors.

      He inhaled, an unfortunate necessity, since her scent further degraded his declaration of resistance. He groaned inwardly, only half focusing on what she said between breezy kisses. With great reluctance, but undeniable desire, he en-folded her in his arms.

      “Oh, Jax,” she said in a long sigh, her sweet breath tickling his chin. “It’s been too long.”

      She clung, gifted him with light, beguiling jaw kisses as she spoke. “I’ve missed you so much.” She paused, smiled. Her green eyes glistened a bit too much, as though they were teary. Still, Jax found them to be the most breathtaking sight he’d seen in—well, for almost ever. At least since the last time he looked into them. His resistance crumbling, he smiled at her, hating himself but helpless against the depth of his feelings. “Hi, Kim.” He hugged her, fighting the urge to cover those full lips with his, show her exactly what brand of greeting he ached to give her. If she knew the immensity of his restraint, she would blush as brilliant as her auburn hair, dazzling in the porch light. “It’s—good to see you,” he said against her temple, meaning it. Damn him.

      “Oh, Jax!” she said, her voice sweet but melancholy. He knew exactly what that meant. Another man had broken her heart. He tensed. “I hope you don’t mind my coming, but I really need you right now.”

      Yeah, he thought, you need me right now. I need you every blasted minute of every blasted day. Naturally he didn’t say that aloud. Playing his part as the dutiful friend, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

      She loosened her grip on his shoulders and drew far enough away to look into his face. Her smile, though tentative and tremulous, blew him away. If he were a man who cried in the presence of great beauty, he would be in tears. “Oh, Jax…” she whispered again, then bit her lip, the expression sexy as hell, though he knew she had no inkling. “Could we go inside? I—I’d rather not…” She indicated his front porch. Wide and deep, it held a couple of padded chairs on either side of a small table.

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