“It was his kiss,” Summer said.
Jenny blinked in surprise. “Colin’s kiss shocked you so much that it broke the spell? Jeesh, was it that bad?”
“No,” Summer said softly. “It was that good.”
Six
“No, Summer, I don’t have your purse. Sorry. I’ll bet you dropped it when that kid zapped you into the painting,” Jenny said.
“Ah, shoot. I must have left it at the gallery.”
“Could that have been a Freudian slip? Perhaps something that would give you a reason to see Colin again? You know you could just cancel the date with Kenny-benny, and go back there tonight,” Jenny said.
“First, stop calling him that. Second, no, I’m not canceling my date. I’ll go get my purse tomorrow or whatever. As I already explained, this thing with Colin was just a fluke. He’s not my type, and he doesn’t fit into my plan.” A vision of Colin on the balcony, arms outstretched, head flung back, laughing his full, infectious laugh flashed through Summer’s mind, but she quickly squelched the memory. That wasn’t really Colin. The real Colin was much more subdued and uncomfortably intense, not lighthearted, fun, and happy. “The whole Rochester thing doesn’t work for me in the real world,” Summer blurted.
“Huh? Who’s Rochester?”
Summer sighed. “You know, Jane Eyre’s Rochester.”
“Oooh! He’s yummy. What about him?”
“That’s who Colin reminds me of, and he is definitely not my type.”
“You, my friend, might be insane.”
“There’s nothing insane about wanting a guy who’s lighthearted and happy and fun. And blond,” she added.
“You forgot ‘and easy to control,’” Jenny added, then she hurried on, talking over Summer’s sputtering protestations. “Girlfriend, just because a man is intense doesn’t mean he’s not happy and even fun sometimes, too. Plus, you might want to consider that lighthearted could mean light-headed, as in the guy might not have enough sense to be serious,” Jenny said. “And what the hell’s wrong with tall, dark, and handsome?”
“Not believing you about the whole broody-could-equal-happy thing,” Summer said stubbornly, completely ignoring the obvious reference to Ken’s brains or lack thereof. “And I happen to prefer blonds, lighthearted blonds in particular.”
“Did you prefer them when Colin had you in a lip-lock?”
“Yes. I still preferred them. I was just surprised, that’s all.”
“Which brings us back to my main point. You were surprised because it was so damn good. If it’s so damn good, you might want to consider revisiting the scene of the crime.”
“You want me to get back in the painting?”
“No, I want you to get back on the vampire.”
“Jenny, I am going to get ready for my date. With Ken. The guy I’m really attracted to. So I’m going now. Bye.”
“All right, all right! I hope you have a good time, and I want all the details.”
“Good-bye, Jenny.”
“Jeesh you’re grumpy when you’re sexually confused. Bye.”
“I’m not sexually confused,” Summer told the dead phone. She glanced at the clock. “Shoot! I am late, though.” Putting Colin out of her mind, Summer rushed into the kitchen and threw the tofu spaghetti sauce together to simmer.
She also put Colin out of her mind while she showered. The warm water running down her naked body did not remind her of the warmth of his hands through the ultrathin material of the chemise.
“His hands aren’t even warm. Not really,” she muttered as she put on just a hint of makeup.
And she definitely didn’t think about him while she picked out the ever-so-cute peach lace bra and panties set and then slid on the breezy, buttercup-colored skirt and the creamy, V-neck pullover that made her look and feel like a fresh spring wildflower, basking in the sunlight, just waiting to be plucked by a tall, dark—
“No!” she told herself, and marched into the kitchen. Summer was stirring the pot of sauce when the jaunty shave and a haircut, two bits knock sounded against her front door. She patted her hair and hurried through the living room.
“Hey, Sum! I couldn’t figure out what kind of wine to get, so I got, like, three colors. I figured the more the merrier.” Ken grinned boyishly and presented the bag that, sure enough, held a bottle of cheap Cabernet, cheap Chardonnay, and cheap white Zinfandel.
Summer returned his smile and motioned for him to come in, squelching her disappointment that there wasn’t a bottle of nice Chianti in the mix. It wasn’t like Ken could have known they were having spaghetti and that she preferred Italian wine with it. She’d just let him know next time. “How about we open the red? It’ll go great with the spaghetti,” she said.
“You made spaghetti?” He took off his jacket and dropped it over the back of the couch before she could ask him for it.
“Yeah, I hope you like it.”
“Spaghetti’s awesome! Hope it’s almost ready. I’m starving.”
She opened her mouth to tell him all she’d have to do is to boil the pasta, but he didn’t give her a chance to speak.
“Hey, want me to come to the kitchen with you and open the wine? A drink would be awesome.”
“Sure, come on back,” she said and then led him to the back of the cabin and her sister’s spacious kitchen.
“Wow, this is a great kitchen,” Ken said appreciatively.
“Yeah, Candice loves her gourmet cooking.” She sent Ken a shy look as she handed him the corkscrew. “Hope you’re not disappointed that she got most of the cooking genes in our family.”
“Nah, as long as it’s hot and full of meat, I’m cool with it.”
“Uh, Ken, didn’t you remember that I’m a vegetarian?”
He looked up from opening the wine. “Huh? A what?” Then he glanced at the simmering pot on the stove. “Oh, you’re worried I won’t like your spaghetti.” Grinning, he grabbed the big stirring spoon and ladled himself a generous taste test. “Yum! You don’t have anything to be nervous about. This sauce is awesome!” he said through a full mouth.
“Oh, uh, good.” Summer stirred the bubbling pasta. What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, she decided. Or at least she didn’t think fairies were allergic to tofu.
While Summer put the finishing touches on their meal, Ken sat on her sister’s pristine butcher block island, drank wine, and talked. And talked. And talked.
“Hey, Sum, so you actually made it through college.”
“Yeah. It’s funny—I didn’t think I’d like the academic part of it, but once I got into my lit major I—”
“Man, I don’t know how you stayed away from Mysteria for four whole years. No way would I want to do that. The mundane world is no place for fairies.”
“Well, I did miss Mysteria, and, well, lots of the people here.” She smiled and felt her cheeks get warm when she added, “Especially certain fairies. That’s one of the reasons I came back.”
“Of course you missed fairies. The world just isn’t the same without them!” He jumped off the counter and bowed to her with a big flourish before pouring himself more wine.
He looked so boyish and carefree that she had to smile at him. “Then I should feed you so we can be sure you don’t expire. I know how much fairies love food.”
“That we do!” He hurried into the dining room where she had two places already set with intimate candles and her sister’s beautiful china, leaving her to carry in the spaghetti and the sauce. He had thought to bring the bottle of wine with him, though.
So they ate, and Ken talked. And talked. And talked.
At first Summer just listened to him, commenting now and then (although his exuberant “conversation” really didn’t require much participation on her part), and thinking about how cute he looked in the candlelight. His blond hair was thick and a little shaggy, but it looked good on him, and it glistened with a sparkle of fairy magic when the candlelight caught it just right. His blue eyes were big and expressive, his face completely animated. He really was a cute guy. And the direct opposite of dark and broody and intense and sexy . . .