It was Kayla's turn to frown, and she tamped down the rising panic at the thought of "showing off" a body she wasn't one hundred percent satisfied with. "I'd rather not."

"Why not?"

Kayla sighed, surprised she even had to explain to her sister what she already knew. "You know I don't do dingy or form-fitting."

"You don't have to do either, Kayla." Jillian skimmed through a rack of sleeveless poplin shirts. After pulling out one in a pale pink shade, she held it up to Kayla's chest and examined it with a critical eye. "We're going to accentuate your best assets, not blatantly display what you're not comfortable showing off."

Kayla wasn't so sure, and shook her head. "Jilly, I just want to look…"

"Sexy?" Jillian guessed.

Her sister had so easily supplied the one word Kayla had a difficult time saying aloud, and now that it was out in the open, it would be ridiculous of her to deny the truth. "Okay, I'll admit, I wouldn't mind looking a little sexy."

"I'm going to tell you a trade secret, so listen up," Jillian said in that way of hers that combined sisterly affection and tough love. "Sexy is a mind-set. If you feel sexy and confident, then others are going to see that in the way you carry yourself. You need to walk with your head held high, your shoulders pulled back so those great breasts of yours get the attention they deserve, and with a self-assurance that tells the world you love who you are."

Kayla laughed, but deep inside she took her sister's words to heart. "I promise I'll work on all that mindset stuff."

"All right then, let's get to work." Jillian rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this day to come."

Kayla could only imagine, and for the next hour and a half she was swept into a maelstrom of coordinating clothes, shoes, and accessories that her sister picked out for her to try on, and deemed the very height of fashion. They laughed and teased as she tried each outfit, and Kayla couldn't ever remember enjoying a shopping experience more.

"This color and style are so great on you," Jillian said as Kayla tried on a two-piece blouse and skirt set made out of gauzy cotton that her sister insisted would flatter her figure. "What do you think?"

Kayla studied her reflection in the mirror, taking in the pretty periwinkle shade, how the hem of the blouse fell past her hips, and the way the skirt swirled loosely around her legs. She liked the outfit… until her sister slipped a silver chain belt around her waist. The delicate design draped loosely over her hips, but in Kayla's estimation drew too much attention to that too-curvaceous part of her body.

Biting on the inside of her cheek, she smoothed her hands over her hips, trying to make them look smaller, which was impossible, she knew. She met her sister's waiting gaze in the mirror. "Are you sure this belt doesn't make me look fa-"

"Don't you dare say that awful F word," Jillian interrupted before Kayla could finish, and shook a reprimanding finger at her reflection. "You're perfect just the way you are, and don't let anyone let you think otherwise-not even those two dreadful voices in your head."

Her mother and Doug. They were both no longer a part of her life, but still had the ability to affect her confidence. And it was time she kicked their voices right out of her head.

"You're right," she said and lifted her chin, then straightened her posture, which seemed to transform not only her appearance, but her whole attitude. "We'll take this outfit, too, along with the belt."

Another half hour later and they strolled out of the boutique with a new, updated wardrobe for Kayla, and her heart feeling lighter and more carefree than it had in years. They stowed the packages in the trunk of Jillian's BMW and got into the car. But instead of heading back to Pure Indulgence, Jillian turned the vehicle in the opposite direction.

Curious, Kayla asked, "Where are we going?"

"To see my hairstylist," Jillian said with a flash of her famous smile and a sassy toss of her trendily cut mane. "You can't buy all these new outfits and not get your hair cut and styled to go with them."

Her sister's logic was iffy at best, but Kayla knew there was no arguing with Jillian when she made her mind up to do something. So, she reached into her purse for her cell phone, called the bakery to let her employees know that she'd be a little later than expected, and decided to enjoy the rest of the afternoon being pampered.


* * *

Jack grabbed the two grocery sacks from the back of his Escalade and made his way up to the front porch of Kayla's small, single-story house, located in a quiet neighborhood in MissionBay. The yard was nicely maintained with vibrant flowers growing in abundance in the brick planters surrounding the home, giving the place a well-loved feel. Hanging from a porch beam was a wind chime, and the light evening breeze caused the brass pieces to create a beautiful, melodious sound that made him smile.

Transferring both bags to his left hand, he rang the doorbell. Less than a minute later Kayla appeared, and he found himself staring at the woman in front of him, startled by her transformed appearance. Gone was the woman who wore loose-fitting clothing and kept her hair swept away from her face in a tidy ponytail, and in her place was a bold, daring female that literally took his breath away.

Unable to help himself, he looked his fill. She was wearing a soft, floral patterned sundress that was far from form-fitting, but grazed her curves in a way that teased and tempted his senses and made him wonder what he'd discover beneath that lightweight material-basic cotton or something more tantalizing? His eyes skimmed along the six little pearl buttons that secured the front of the dress over her full breasts, then continued down to her shapely calves and coral-colored toenails.

Swallowing to ease the dryness that had settled in his throat, he lifted his gaze back up to hers. Her makeup was minimal, but what she did have on emphasized her green eyes, her lush mouth, and pretty features. And then there was her silky blond hair, at least two inches shorter than he remembered and layered in a way that it brushed just below her jawline and accentuated the lovely shape of her face.

He couldn't deny that he liked what he saw-mainly because she glowed with a new, subtle radiance that only enhanced the sensuality that was such a natural part of who she was. She looked sexy as hell, and it was all he could do to keep himself from dragging her off to the nearest bedroom, strip her naked, and finish what they'd started at her shop three nights ago.

His body was certainly up for the occasion, he thought wryly, but he wasn't about to rush something so important to their developing relationship-not until he was absolutely certain she was ready to take that next step with him.

Reining in his randy hormones, he masked his need for her with a lazy grin. "Excuse me, I think I'm at the wrong house," he said in a playful tone. "I'm looking for Kayla Thomas."

She blushed at his attempt at humor, and opened the door wider for him to enter. "Come on in, Mr. Funny Guy."

He stepped into the small foyer, stopped in front of her, and waited for her to meet his gaze. "You look great, by the way."

"Thanks," she murmured, and smoothed a hand down the skirt of her dress in a self-conscious gesture.

The color in her cheeks deepened, giving him the distinct impression that she wasn't used to being on the receiving end of compliments or flattery-and she certainly deserved both.

He lifted his hand and sifted the short strands of her hair through his fingers. His thumb brushed along her neck, and he felt her shiver in response. "And your hair… I like it."

She shrugged in a dismissive manner, as if the new style was no big deal. "It was long overdue for a cut."

He let his hand fall away, and found himself reading beneath the surface of Kayla's actions. He was beginning to understand those insecurities he'd glimpsed a time or two, and he was fairly certain that she was making excuses for her changes because she didn't want him to think they had anything to do with him. And he respected that, along with that strong, independent streak he'd seen flash through her eyes.

He followed her through a living room decorated in oak and earthy tones of peach and beige, and into a cheery, spacious kitchen accented in violet and pale yellow hues.

"Nice place," he said as he set the grocery bags on the large wooden block in the center of the kitchen and started unloading the items he'd bought to make them dinner. "Have you lived here long?"

"About two years." She retrieved two crystal glasses from the cupboard for the wine he'd promised to bring, and set them on the counter. "It's small-perfect for me. Except for the kitchen, which I had remodeled to make it bigger. That way, I can bake at home if I need to."

Everything about her place was cozy, warm, and inviting-a genuine reflection of the woman herself. It made him think of his own custom-built house, so big and open, and too quiet and lonely, he'd noticed lately.

He felt something rub up against his ankle and glanced down to find an orange tabby cat making herself known. Gold-green eyes met his, and she meowed a greeting.

"That's Pumpkin," Kayla told him. "Are you okay with cats?"

"I love cats." And this one was especially friendly. He bent down and scratched her beneath her chin. The feline purred happily. "I'd probably have a cat or dog of my own if I was home more often. Considering how much time I've spent at my restaurant over the past six years, they wouldn't get the attention they need."