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“Sure,” she laughed. “The usual dangerous stuff.”
“Yeah. That’s Adrian alright.”
Her hair was impossibly soft and feathery, as smooth as spun silk. Exactly as my fingers remembered.
“Think he’ll be here for the funeral?” asked Kayla, when I didn’t immediately answer.
“Possibly,” I shrugged. “He and Elizabeth were close.”
“We wereallclose,” Kayla argued.
“True.”
“It’s so crazy, isn’t it? Her dying like that?” Kayla’s voice softened, to where it was nearly drowned out by the rain. “To think of her being just… gone?”
Not just gone,the little voice in my head said sternly. Forever gone.
My lips went tight. The acknowledgment was grim.
“Yes,” I practically whispered. “It’s definitely crazy.”
Kayla glanced up at me, batting those seductive, almond-shaped eyes. Were they hazel? Green? They always seemed to change color, with every trick of the light or shadows.
“Thank you.”
She said the words so sweetly it made my hand stop mid-stroke. At that moment, lying in my lap and framed by her hair, she wasn’t just beautiful. She was breathtakingly gorgeous
“For what?”
“For bringing me here,” she said softly. “For remembering… this.”
My lips cracked a sardonic grin. “Well it’s not like I could ever forget this place,” I pointed out.
“I know. And neither can I.” She looked around again, staring dazedly at the rain-streaked windows. “But still… this was perfect,” she sighed happily. “Exactly what I needed to not feel like such a stranger anymore.”
My smile widened. “So you’re saying I’m perfect.”
“No,” she giggled. “Not even close.”
“Then you’re saying mysexis perfect. That I just sexed you up in the most perfect way.”
“Your sex is fantastic, don’t get me wrong,” she smiled. “But perfect? That’s a little bit of a stretch.”
“Ohreally?” I sat up straighter, my honor suddenly at stake. “And what could I have possibly done better?”
“Hmmm…” she mused, twirling a lock of her own hair. She was teasing me, I knew. It was something she’d always been good at.
“Well for one, perfect sex happens in a nice big bed. Not the back seat of a 50-year old car.”
“But the leather back here has been broken in to a buttery softness,” I protested.
“True, but with more space come more options, more positions.” Her grin turned a little fiendish. “I guess that’s number two.”
I returned her gaze, scratching thoughtfully at my stubbled chin. “And number three?”
“Number three…” she said, stretching out like a cat, “involves you fulfilling your promise from ten years ago.”
“And that would be?”
