Hard to Resist - By Kara Lennox Page 0,25
say, ‘I don’t want to talk about it right now.’”
“That’s what I did.”
“Good girl. So nothing good happened?”
Samantha thought hard. “Mrs. Hanson, the cafeteria lady, put two cherries on my sundae.”
“There you go! I knew you could do it. Want to know something good that happened to me?”
Samantha nodded.
“One of my StrongGirls got a job for the summer. It’s her first-ever job. She’s going to be a waitress so she can earn money for college.”
Samantha relaxed into the conversation a bit, and Kat was looking forward to a calm, sane, boring evening for a change. But she wasn’t going to get it. She realized that the moment she entered her new apartment.
“What in the world,” she murmured. Had she walked into the wrong place? But no, there were the futon and the coffee table—and Bashira, meowing up a storm. Otherwise, it sure didn’t look like the same place. She set down her tote bag and took it all in.
She had a new kitchen. And a dining room table and chairs.
Samantha was equally dumbfounded. She walked through the main room and into the bedroom. “Mommy, I have a bed. A real bed.”
Kat joined her daughter. The bed wasn’t all. There was a small oak desk and a dresser, too. A toy box. Shelves. Curtains on the windows. Kat felt as if she’d dropped down a rabbit hole.
Samantha returned to the living room, craning her neck to look at everything. Finally, her gaze settled. “Look, Mommy, a TV!”
“Yes, that’s what it is, all right.”
“Can I turn it on?” She’d already found the remote and she was studying it.
“Uh… Sure, why not?” If the TV made this place feel more like home for her daughter, then fine. She helped Samantha find a kid-friendly show. “Are you okay watching by yourself for a few minutes? I need to have a word with our landlord.”
Samantha, already zoning out, nodded.
Kat locked the apartment door, went down the stairs, stomped across the yard, up onto Ethan’s deck and to the back door. The lights were on inside and she could hear rock music. She banged on the door.
A few moments later Ethan opened the door looking good enough to eat, in soft faded jeans and a Brady’s Tavern T-shirt. He smiled, which was enough to take the edge off her anger. Obviously, he thought he’d done something wonderful.
“Hi,” he said, standing aside to let her into his kitchen. But when he read her expression, the smile disappeared. “Everything okay?”
“No, everything is not okay. What happened to my apartment while I was gone? I’d like to believe the furniture fairies paid me a visit, but somehow I doubt it!”
Ethan took in the furious bundle of female energy that had just invaded his kitchen and he could make no sense of it. She was angry?
How had he gotten this so wrong?
“I’m waiting for an explanation,” Kat said, arms folded, foot tapping.
Ethan turned down the heat on some chicken he was frying. “We gave the place a makeover—me, Tony, Priscilla, some of the guys I work with. Even my mom. You…You don’t like it?” Maybe yellow wasn’t her favorite color.
“Whether I like it or not isn’t the issue. You had no right.” She clamped her mouth shut, then started again. “Let me rephrase that. Yes, you own the property, and yes, you have a right to make improvements. But where did the furniture come from? And all those things in the kitchen?”
“The guys brought it over. It was just stuff people had.”
“Castoffs.” She made it sound like the most disgusting concept known to humankind.
“I know it’s not Designer Showhouse stuff, but it’ll do until you can buy what you want.”
“I don’t recall asking you to furnish my house.”
“No, of course, you didn’t ask. But you obviously needed some things.”
“Yes. I did. But I was going to buy them myself.”
“So now you can take your time. Kat, I don’t understand why you’re upset. There’s nothing wrong with needing a little help now and then.”
She clamped her eyes shut, then opened them again. “I don’t need anything. I can take care of myself. And I certainly don’t need charity.”
“Is that what you call it? I call it one friend helping another.”
“But we’re not friends.” He flinched, and she quickly backpedaled. “I mean, we weren’t… We didn’t even know each other until the fire, and every minute we’ve spent in each other’s presence has had to do with you helping me, fixing my life.”
“That’s not how I see you.”
“No? You just couldn’t stand