“I promise Cat won’t feel displaced. I’ll make it up to him by giving him some extra Cheerios in the morning.”
Kim sputtered a laugh. The man was absolutely impossible, and more than a little endearing. “Just how do you propose training Buttons to be your guide dog?”
“He’s got a leash around here someplace.” As if he could actually see, he glanced around the large garage that housed the fire trucks. “Hey, Gables, can you get me Buttons’s leash?”
“Sure.” Mike jogged to the back of the building and returned a moment later with a leather leash. “Here you go.” He flashed Kim a questioning look.
She shrugged, mouthing, “Don’t ask.”
Jay bent down and snapped the leash onto Buttons’s collar. “Okay, we’ll think of this as a trial run. Buttons, heel.”
The dog immediately complied with the order.
“Good dog.” Jay grinned and rose to his feet. “Buttons, forward.”
Jay and the dog began striding toward the open bay doors, and Kim was pushed to keep up with them, forced to hurry in her high heels. Darned if it didn’t look like this experiment might—
“Jay, stop!”
He halted, turned back, frowning. “What’s wrong now?”
She caught up with him. “I think it would be safer if you walked on the sidewalk instead of in the middle of the street.”
“Good point.” He didn’t seem at all contrite about another near miss that had sent a passing car swerving around him. “Guess that’s what happens when you’re being led around by an amateur guide dog.”
Not knowing whether to laugh or cry at the man’s antics, she slipped her arm through his. “Until Buttons gets the hang of things, why don’t we do this together?”
“Perfect,” he murmured, and she wondered if the ridiculous idea of Buttons guiding him hadn’t been a ploy to spend a little more time with her. Whatever the reason, he was a hard man to resist, particularly for a woman who hadn’t yet gotten over her adolescent crush on him.
In spite of herself, a little thrill of feminine pleasure shot through her. Before the earthquake, a good many men had been interested in dating her. But most, it seemed, were attracted by her physical appearance, or by what they thought she could do for them in the entertainment business. Jay didn’t have any such agenda.
The air had cooled considerably since the sun had slipped behind the coastal range of mountains, leaving Paseo del Real in shadows, and Kim shivered. She should have thought to bring a sweater with her.
“You cold?” he asked.
“Hmm, a little.”
In an easy gesture, he looped his arm around her shoulders. Immediately she felt warmer, his touch rekindling a long-banked fire within her.
To casual passersby they’d appear to be a couple out taking their dog for an early-evening walk. Except Jay’s dark glasses were neither a fashion statement nor an effort to shade his eyes. He couldn’t see her, didn’t know she’d changed from the woman he’d seen on television as well as the girl he remembered from high school. That she was now ugly, a woman few men would want to have on their arm.
If she didn’t tell him that unpleasant truth, she was an impostor, a fake who didn’t deserve to be in the same room with a man as courageous as Jay.
She stopped on the sidewalk. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
“Oh, damn, don’t tell me Buttons has gotten us lost.”
“No, we’re on the right track. It’s just that…”
“I knew it. I couldn’t be that lucky. You’ve already got a boyfriend.”
“No, not that either.” She smiled, the movement of her lips tugging on the scar tissue that marred her face, and instinctively she ducked her head. “After the earthquake, the doctors did everything they could to rebuild the left side of my face. It didn’t heal right. It probably never will.”
Frowning, he gazed at her with unseeing eyes. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“I’m ugly, Jay. That side of my face is—”
He let go of the dog’s leash and framed her face between his big, gentle hands. The scarf was in his way, so he carefully slid it back and then with his fingertips traced every bit of her face. Her eyebrows, the shape of her nose. The cheekbone that had been shattered and the one that was whole. His fingertips skimmed across her lips, following the outline and sketching the seam. With infinite care, he measured the shape of her jaw. And the dreadful, jagged scar.
Kim stood immobile. Afraid to breathe. Afraid of the revulsion she might see in his expression, hear in his voice. Her heart thudded painfully with that fear; a surge of adrenaline urged her to flee, to shut herself away again in total isolation. But her body could only respond to Jay’s tender touch, thick ribbons of heat fluttering through her.
“Kimberly Lydell, you listen to me and you listen real good.” His rich baritone vibrated with conviction. “Even when my vision is twenty-twenty again, you’ll still be the most beautiful woman in the world to me. That’s how I’ll always see you.”
Tears escaped to edge down her cheeks. She wanted to thank him but she didn’t have the words to express the depth of feeling that filled her chest and tightened in her throat.
Her ego had been shattered along with her cheek, and whether it made her seem shallow or not, she’d needed to hear a man say she was beautiful—a man she cared about—even if his words were a lie.
Chapter Four
Jay treated himself to one last caress of her satiny cheek with the back of his hand. The loss of his eyesight had heightened his tactile senses. He relished the sensation of her smooth flesh, warm and vital, against his rougher skin. It hadn’t occurred to Jay that she might need him instead of the other way around.
And, despite the courage she’d shown the night of the earthquake, the determination he’d seen in her blue eyes, she still did need him. Her tears proved that. And the gossamer bit of fabric—a scarf, he presumed—she’d been wearing to hide her face from others. Now he had to convince her she didn’t have to hide from anyone.
“Hey, sweetheart, I’ve got another one of my great ideas.”
She drew a shaky breath, audibly pulling herself together. “Spare me. Do you get these grand ideas often, or do you only hallucinate late in the day?”
“Think of yourself as my inspiration.” Reaching down, he found Buttons and caught his leash. “There’s a bar about a block from the fire station that’s got the best beef dip sandwiches in the county. Let’s have dinner there.”
“I don’t think so, Jay….”
“You’ve gotta eat, don’t you?”
“I don’t go out in public much these days. My face—”
“But that’s the beauty of the place. The bar’s as dark as a tomb—which is probably why the beef dip tastes so good. God knows what kind of meat they’re using.” Taking her arm, he made a U-turn and headed back toward Paseo Boulevard. “Come on, Buttons. I’ll buy you a hamburger without the bun.”
“You don’t like to take no for an answer, do you?” Kim complained as he ushered her along.
He smiled. Not when something important was involved.
KIM WASN’T at all sure going to dinner with Jay was a wise idea. Her nerves felt on edge, her emotions raw. After months of near-total isolation, she’d about used up her courage for meeting new people. Only the fact that the firefighters had been so unconcerned about her appearance gave her encouragement that she would survive a dinner in a dimly lit restaurant. And Smoke Eaters Bar and Grill was dark, she discovered. About two-candle power and very intimate with small tables and cozy booths, few of them occupied at the moment. At the very back of the room was a pool table, a shaded hanging lamp illuminating the green felt, and on the wall there was a cork dart board with a bright red bull’s-eye.
“Hey, there,” the bartender shouted. “You can’t bring a dog in here.”
“It’s okay, Curly,” Jay replied, keeping Buttons on a short leash. “He’s my Seeing Eye dog.”
“You’re putting me on. That’s no guide dog. He’s a dalmatian!”