Summer Secrets - Barbara Freethy [82]
"Unlike your baby sister."
"What do you mean?" she asked sharply. "Caroline likes to party, but she's not out of control or anything."
"Sorry, I guess I read her wrong." But he wondered if Kate wasn't protesting a little too much.
"You did read her wrong. I'd know if Caroline had a problem." She paused, worry in her eyes. "I would know, don't you think?"
"You know your sister better than I do."
"Exactly. I'll take one of those mineral waters."
He handed her a bottle of Crystal Geyser. "I'm not a drinker myself," he said. "I like to keep my wits about me. Stay in control. Part of that oldest-child syndrome, I think. Always be the responsible one."
"Is your brother irresponsible?" she asked.
How did he answer that one? And why had he even mentioned his brother? Mark was a dangerous subject. Then again, Tyler wondered if he could gain her sympathy by telling her about the terrible tragedy that had befallen his brother. But if he told her anything, she might one day use it as ammunition against Mark. He couldn't take that chance. "He's more impulsive than I am," he said finally. "Now, what do you want to eat?"
Kate pulled off her sweater and spread it out between them. "We can put the food on this."
"Are you sure? It might get dirty."
"I like dirt, remember? And I have a washing machine."
"You're a very low-maintenance woman, aren't you?"
"I'm used to taking care of myself."
"And other people, too---your sisters, your father, your friends, your customers. Don't you ever get tired?"
"Even if I did, I haven't seen any fairy godmothers hovering about ready to turn my pumpkin into a carriage."
He smiled, liking her wit, her sense of humor, her lack of pretension. "What about handsome princes?"
"Not a one in sight."
"Are you sure about that?"
"You're not suggesting you have one of my glass slippers?" she teased.
He picked up her abandoned tennis shoe. "Will this do?"
"I'm afraid not. There are several dozen women who could wear that shoe and do. It's not one of a kind."
"But you are," he said impulsively, leaning over and kissing her on the lips. Her mouth was cool, moist from the water she'd been sipping. He wanted to linger, wanted to warm those lips, taste her more deeply, but she was already pulling away.
"Why did you do that?" she asked.
"I wanted to," he said simply.
"You make it all seem so easy, the flirting, the kissing. It's second nature to you, isn't it?"
He saw the question in her eyes, heard the hint of insecurity in her voice. "Maybe you just make it harder than it has to be."
She gave him an odd look. "Jeremy used to say the same thing. He thought I worried too much, thought too long, planned too hard." She shrugged. "But that's just me. I can't help it."
"You don't have to change -- not as long as you're happy with who you are."
"For the most part, I am. Not that I don't have my faults, and I certainly haven't lived an error-free life, but I try hard. Does that count?"
"Enough to get you a chicken leg." He handed her a drumstick.
"Hmm. This looks good. Jack's Deli?"
"I heard it was the best."
"You heard right." She took a bite and sighed as if she'd just tasted ambrosia. He loved watching her lick her fingers in between bites. Made him want to lean over and take a taste himself.
"You re staring," she said. "I hate it when people watch me eat."
He smiled at that. "It doesn't seem to be stopping you."
She took another bite. "Okay, it doesn't bother me that much, but, if you don't eat, there may not be anything left. I am the fastest eater of the McKenna sisters. Although we're all pretty speedy."
"It must have been fun growing up with sisters." He'd had a good time with Mark when they were little. He'd missed that when he'd become an only child.
"It was wonderful. Even though they often drove me crazy, especially when we lived on the boat together."
"What was that like?"