A Scent of Seduction. Colleen Collins
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They sat in silence for a moment, surrounded by chattering voices and clinking glasses. Overhead, white seagulls flew in lazy circles in a clear blue sky.
“I need to confess something,” Kathryn whispered.
“Something wicked, I hope?”
“Beyond wicked.”
“Beyond?” Zoe scooted her chair closer. “Tell mama all about it.”
3
“HAVE YOU EVER been in a perfectly normal situation,” murmured Kathryn, swiping a strand of hair from her eyes, “and had someone’s touch—just a touch—transport you to a place where anything goes?”
“Hot damn,” Zoe breathed, her eyes wide behind her sunglasses. “This is getting good. Where was this so-called-normal situation?”
“This morning’s team-building meeting.” Kathryn picked up a cracker heaped with cream cheese and caviar. “I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon. In fact, I can hardly think of anything else. It’s been hell trying to get any work done, let me tell you. Girl, I’m ravenous.” She gobbled the laden cracker.
“You tease. Stuffing your mouth on the verge of a major confession. Who touched you?”
Chewing, she reached for another appetizer while shooting Zoe a look.
“Okay, duh, Coyote. Hot. Now, tell all. How? Why? Where?”
“You’ll think I’m crazy.” She picked out a coconut shrimp and took a bite. “Wow,” she said around the mouthful. “This is fantastic. I’ve never tasted anything this yummy before.”
“Shrimp, great. Back to crazy, I dare you to show me one totally sane person at the Times, and that includes our pal Ethan, whose well-mannered Britishness fools people into assuming he’s sane, but I digress.”
Kathryn looked around. “Speaking of Ethan, where is he?”
“Gone again. Probably off with his new ladylove. I think our pal’s lady-killer days are a thing of the past. But enough about his sex life.” Zoe wiggled her eyebrows. “Let’s talk about yours.”
“I don’t have a sex life.” Kathryn finished off the coconut shrimp.
“Not yet, you mean.”
Kathryn’s focus drifted back to Coyote, who was talking with his mountain-size buddy at the bar. The way he slouched casually against the bar, the taut muscles of his back evident underneath the T-shirt, triggered a tiny shudder that rippled down her body and settled between her legs.
A flash of movement caught her eye. At the far end of the bar sat Lester, waving at her. She almost didn’t recognize him because of his ear-to-ear grin.
“What’s with Lester?” asked Zoe. “He hates company parties.”
“Maybe the free appetizers lured him.” She gave him a return wave, turned back to Zoe. “Where were we?”
“You confessing. Me all ears. Coyote touched you and I want every hot, kinky detail right now.”
“Right.”
Kathryn reached for another appetizer, but Zoe’s hand stopped her. “Appetizers can wait. Besides, I thought you were on a diet. Not that I think you need to be on one,” she added quickly.
Kathryn had almost forgotten about her all-important diet, yet another item on her constantly evolving list of Important Things to Do, none of which were any fun. “Screw the diet. So what if I have a round tushie, it’s my tushie, and I’m gonna love it anyway.”
“Tushie, great. Back to the confessional.”
“Okay. At the team-building meeting this morning, we were instructed to do a group hug.”
“How lame.”
“I know. I thought Lester was going to bolt, but Coyote said, ‘Let’s just do it…’” Do it. She bet Coyote knew all kinds of ways to do it. All kinds of inappropriate, illicit, downright dog-dirty ways. She pressed her suddenly moist palms against her slacks.
“Let’s? So it was you, Lester and Coyote group-hugging?”
“And Gail.” She paused, unsure how to explain what happened next.
“That’s it? The four of you group-hugged?”
Kathryn nodded.
“That’s the most boring story I’ve ever heard. You skipped the good part.”
“Yes, well, we moved together to hug,” she said carefully, still trying to piece together in her own mind what had happened, “and somebody lost their balance, causing Coyote to fall against me, or maybe I fell against him.” She paused, thinking. “No, no, he fell against me and next thing I knew his lips were brushing against a spot behind my ear. You know, that soft patch of skin right behind your ear that when touched or softly blown on makes your skin prickle all over?”
Zoe fanned herself with a cocktail napkin. “Oh, to be soft-patch kissed by a man like that.”
They each helped themselves to an appetizer and noshed for a long moment in silence. Over the speakers, a Jack Johnson tune played, its kick-back surfer beat underscored by the distant, crashing waves.
Zoe finally broke the silence. “So, was that the end of your confession?”
“No. After Coyote’s lips brushed that soft patch, we were still hugging, or maybe clinging to each other, or maybe I was clinging to Coyote, anyway, suddenly my world—” She raised her right hand as though taking an oath. “I swear, Zoe, my world rocked off its axis.” She picked up her glass and downed the rest of her drink.
Zoe peered at her over the top of her sunglasses. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been without so long that you took advantage of a group hug to cling to the hunk in the group.”
Kathryn’s jaw dropped. “That’s ridic—”
“I’m worried about you, Kath. You’re emerging from a long dry spell. I think we should hire you a booty call or something so you can vent some steam before you fall into another group hug.”
“Oh, I get it. Zoe’s being funny. Ha-ha.”
Zoe leveled her a look.
“You’re serious.” Kathryn crossed her arms. “You, Ms. Wild Thang, who by the way was totally with me on how a simple touch could rock a person’s world, don’t believe something out of this world happened during an off-kilter group hug?” After a moment of silence, she sighed heavily. “How much do you think a booty call would cost?”
“Why, there you are, darling!” From across the rooftop, Gail Rhodes, her cheeks as pink as her dress, called out to their table. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”
“Is she talking to us?” whispered Zoe.
Kathryn lowered her voice. “She’s been calling me every hour on the hour since that damn team meeting.”
“You clung to her, too?”
Kathryn gave Zoe a look.
“Sorry,” Zoe murmured just as Gail descended on their table in a cloud of jasmine-scented perfume.
“Imagine!” Gail said breathlessly, batting her eyes at Kathryn, “we see each other again.”
“Imagine,” Kathryn muttered.
“Is that seat taken?” Gail asked, pointing to the empty chair with Kathryn’s jacket tossed over its back.
“No,” said Zoe.
“Yes,” said Kathryn.
“Yes,” corrected Zoe quickly. She shrugged apologetically to Kathryn. “I forgot.”
Gail