A Great Kisser

by Donna Kauffman

  “Us,” he gently corrected. Then he chuckled and rolled her to her back, tucking her to his side, pinning her with the weight of his leg. “And as far as I’m concerned, you have the rest of your life to get used to us.”

  Her heart flipped over, possibly skipped a beat or two somewhere in there as well. There was absolutely no hesitation in his voice, and his gaze was squarely on hers. Last night, after the first time they’d made love, he’d said some things and so had she. Intimate things that linked them together in ways other than the physical. The other times they’d come together during the night had been more a slow, languid, joining of bodies and souls, with the only communication that of touch and taste.

  Now it was the light of day. And if they’d been crazy to half admit what they’d half admitted in the immediate aftermath of a very intense passionate first coupling, that was almost understandable. It had felt rather life altering in that moment. And what had followed through the night merely an underscore of that intensity.

  But what did it say now, that fully clear of mind, and of heart, staring into eyes she knew she could look into for a very, very long time…that she still felt exactly the same way. “Better be careful what you offer,” she said softly. “You might get exactly what you wish for.”

  His smile was blinding and sexy, his eyes so full of life and…other things she badly wanted to believe in…it made her want to leap fully and completely off the cliff and into whatever danger may lay ahead.

  If she were honest with herself, it was possible she’d already done so…she simply had to accept it. And decide what she was going to do about it.

  “Poor me,” he said, tracing his fingers along her cheek. “I’ll risk it.”

  He was really irresistible. She was reaching for him despite her body’s tender spots, when another thought popped into her head. “Your flight,” she said, suddenly remembering that his very immediate future involved leaving for Vegas.

  “I know.” He made a face. “I don’t wanna.”

  She laughed. “That’s a pretty good pout.”

  “Is it going to get me anywhere?”

  “I don’t know. Will it work on the guys who want to throw money at your plane?”

  He frowned. “Party pooper.”

  She laughed. “One of us has to be the pragmatic one.”

  “Funny thing is I’d have always sworn that’d be my job.”

  “We can take turns. I’m sure there will be times when I’ll employ the pout and whine, too.”

  His devilish grin flashed again. “Yeah, but I’ll warn you, it’s probably always going to work on me.”

  “Good to know.” She caught him off guard, rolling him to his back, then scrambling across him and off the bed.

  “Hey! Wait a minute!”

  “Last one in the shower has to wash the other’s back first.”

  “That’s not exactly going to motivate me to move any faster,” he said, climbing out of bed after her.

  But, for a big guy he moved deceptively fast, catching her up against him just as she reached in and turned on the hot spray. “Can I decide which side of you I get to soap up first?” he murmured against her ear, then dropped several resistance dissolving kisses along the side of her neck and shoulder.

  “I’m thinking you can probably do anything you want right at the moment,” she said, sighing and leaning back into him. “But then, I can almost guarantee you you’re going to be late.”

  “You know, I don’t have to race planes,” he said, then made her squeal when he scooped her up and walked them both into the oversized walk-in shower. Steam billowed around them, enveloping them quickly.

  “Right. That’s what I want to be, the woman who made you give up your passion.”

  He moved them under the drenching spray and pulled her tightly into his arms. “A man can have many passions. I seem to be all caught up in one right now.”

  “Imagine that,” she said against his lips. “So am I.” Then she gave in and let him have her. She wanted him to have her all the time. Every second was all his for the taking, that’s how she felt. Unapologetically so.

  But he kept his word and took wonderfully careful, gentle care with her, making her ache in ways that had nothing to do with being tender from all night lovemaking.

  They were drying each other off and she was thinking she still needed to search for her clothes, when he said, “Do you want a quick breakfast?”

  “That’s okay. I can ride my bike back down if you need to get going.”

  He tugged the knot in the front of the towel she’d tied around herself and pulled her up against him, then slid his hands around to cup her backside through the soft terrycloth. “I’m not thinking you’re going to want a bicycle seat pressing against these.”

  She winced at the thought before she could stifle the reaction. “You’re probably right. I could always call my mom—”

  “I’ll take you back to your motel.”

  “But—”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “It’s fine. Truly. They’re in Vegas. I’m sure a few minutes one way or the other isn’t going to ruin their day.”

  “Okay, okay.” She giggled when he gently squeezed her backside and kissed her nose again. She’d become a giggler. And she was unapologetic about that, too, as it turned out.

  “I’d work harder at talking you into going with me, but I know how important it is for you to get some time with your mom.”

  Her heart did that fluttery, beat-skipping thing again, and this time she kissed him on the tip of his nose, though she had to wobble on tippy toes to do it.

  He laughed and wiggled his nose. “What was that for?”

  “You. Being all good guy and understanding and saying the exact right thing. Where have they been keeping you?”

  “First off, please remember this moment, and allow me to use it as evidence for when I say the wrong thing at the wrong time, which could happen at any moment. And, secondly…” He lifted her up against him and backed them up against the wall next to the towel rack. “They haven’t been keeping me anywhere. I’ve been right here all along. Just waiting for you to find me.”

  She sighed. Her heart sighed. And she gave herself into the kiss and let the tenderness and intensity of her response hopefully speak all the words she hadn’t exactly figured out yet.

  They somehow managed to dress and get all the way to his Jeep and down to the flight school without ending up back in bed. Or on the floor. Or up against the nearest wall. Although there were a few close calls.

  It was crazy. How happy she was. How much she completely didn’t care that this was the most impulsive thing she’d ever done. That she didn’t even really know Jake McKenna, but that she was already half head over heels for him. She glanced at him. Maybe more than half. She wanted to hug herself and dance a little jig, that’s how stupid happy she was. It wasn’t lost on her, the irony that it was her mother’s own, similar impulsive act that had brought Lauren to Colorado in the first place.

  She wondered what her mother was going to say when she told her. And Lauren had already decided that today she was going to tell her mother everything. About her job, about her continued concerns where Arlen was concerned…and about Jake. She wasn’t exactly sure how she intended to explain any of it, the least being that last part, but if they were going to find their way back to the relationship they used to have, then they both had to be completely open and put everything out there.

  She only hoped her mother felt the same way. Because now that she was here, and the wall of miscommunication and hurt feelings had finally been dismantled…she wanted to ask her mother some direct questions, as well. And hoped she’d answer them honestly.

  “Didn’t you leave your bike next to the front office?”

  “What?” She’d been so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t been paying attention. “My bike? Yes, I just leaned it up against the hangar when I came in looking for you. Why?” She looked at the hangar and door to the front offi
ce. “Where’s my bike?”

  “Exactly what I was wondering.”

  “Would someone have taken it? Or borrowed it, maybe? One of your younger students?”

  Jake lifted a shoulder, but a frown still creased his forehead. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t think so. Not without leaving a note. And it’s not like Cedar Springs is rife with crime. But I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

  “Maybe you should go in, look around, make sure nothing else was taken.” She looked back toward the other hangar. “What about Hank?”

  “Oh, I’m sure he’s fine, probably slept through the whole thing. Not much of a watch dog and anyone whose been up here would know that.” He popped his door open. “But I should take a look around. I don’t remember if I locked up before we took off last night or not.”

  “Is that pretty much the norm? Not locking up?”

  “I keep the hangars locked, but there’s not much in the front office worth taking. Sometimes I do, most times I forget. Like I said, Cedar Springs isn’t exactly a hot bed of crime. In fact, Gerald—that’d be the police chief—spends most of his time over at the firehouse, mooning around after Sally. She stays a lot busier than he does. Mostly he deals with the occasional altercation out at the resort. Drunk and disorderly, cars banging bumpers when the roads get bad, that sort of thing. Can’t recall him ever having to deal with a break-in, or worse. There’s been a few cases of shoplifting, but that’s about as exciting as it gets.”

  “Which…sounds about exactly how I’d imagine the town to be like. All of which doesn’t explain—”

  “Where your bike is,” he finished. “I know. But, as I said, always a first time for everything. Let me go in and do a quick check, then I’ll get you back to town.”

  “Should I call the police chief?”

  “I’ll drop you off at the rental shop so you can let them know what happened. Who knows, maybe someone found it and turned it in.”

  “How would they know—”

  “Big sticker on the side of the bike. Plus…hot pink isn’t a regular color you’d find at the mountain bike shop.”

  She flashed a smile. “You making disparaging remarks about my bike, mister? Because I’m kinda liking the whole biking around town thing. I might just look into getting a fancier mountain bike of my very own. And when I do?”

  He chuckled. “Uh oh. I’ve created a monster.”

  “A hot pink one. With accessories,” she called out of the Jeep window as he stepped into the front office.

  He was still smiling when he came back out, lifting his shoulders to indicate that everything seemed normal. “Who knows,” he said as he climbed back in. “Let’s get back into town. Maybe it’s turned up.”

  “You know,” she said, thinking as they wound their way back to town, “my bike did tend to stick out a little. At least I haven’t seen another one that color since I’ve been here. And, come to think of it, I stick out, too. And I’ve ridden it all over the place, so it stands to reason people would associate the bike with me.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Just that whoever took the bike might have wanted a less conspicuous ride if they were hoping to get away with the crime.”

  He chuckled. “You watch too many cop shows.”

  “No. I live in D.C. It’s its very own cop show. Daily. Hourly, in fact. Live, and in person.”

  “Probably truer than I’d like to believe, so that’s fair. But, around here…I don’t know. I’m figuring there’s a good reason.” He pulled over in front of the bike rental shop. “You want me to go in with you?”

  “No, I’m a big girl.” She laughed. “I think I can handle the Big Bike Scandal of Cedar Springs all by myself.”

  “Call me and let me know if you find out anything.”

  “Won’t you be in the sky heading south?”

  He grinned and took her hand, tugging her a little closer. “I have to land sometime, and finding a message from you would be a nice thing to look forward to.”

  She dipped her chin and shook her head. “Seriously,” she said, “they don’t make guys like you back at home.”

  He tipped up her chin. “For which I’m eternally grateful.” He searched her eyes. “I’m dying to kiss you.”

  “Well, we don’t need the head of McKenna Flight School expiring right here in the middle of town.”

  “No, we really don’t. But we are right here in the middle of town.”

  She smiled, understanding. “We had dinner at the mayor’s home. How long do you think it took for that to spread like wildfire?”

  “Faster than an actual wildfire, which is saying something. But that doesn’t mean we have to fan the—”

  She shut him up with a kiss. Then laughed at the somewhat stunned and happy look on his face when she lifted her mouth from his.

  “They don’t make them like you, either, Lauren Matthews.” He shook his head as he shifted back into his seat. “No, indeed, they don’t.”

  She slid out of the Jeep and waved at him, enjoying that she could rock him the same way he so effortlessly rocked her.

  He gave her a short salute, then pulled a u-turn right in the middle of Main Street and headed back toward the flight school. There might have been a slight squealing of wheels. And she could have sworn she heard a holler. Or two.

  Grinning in a way that couldn’t be erased by a simple bike theft, she went to push through the doors but they were locked. She backed up, looked at her watch, and laughed while shaking her head again. They’d been so wrapped up in each other they’d forgotten it was barely eight in the morning. “Ha,” she said, then continued laughing as she walked back to her motel. At least they were both acting equally sappy-mushy-googly-eyed. “Because that makes it ever so much more dignified.”

  She figured it was just as well. She’d have a chance to change into something other than what she wore to the barbecue the night before. Not that her apparel was under speculation. At least she didn’t think the townspeople’s fascination with her extended to that degree. Which was a good thing, she decided, looking down at the hopelessly crumpled camp shirt and multiple creases in her khakis. “A fashion plate I am most definitely not.”

  She skirted the front office and whoever was behind the desk—just in case—and headed up the steps to her room. She was already reliving several of the more spectacular moments of the night before as she unlocked her door. So she was caught totally off guard by the discovery of her bike, leaning against the wall inside her room, right where she normally left it. Only, she hadn’t left it there. She’d left it at Jake’s.

  And it hadn’t been mangled. The way it was now.

  “What the—” She dropped her purse on the bed and leaned the bike away from the wall. It looked like it had been run over. Several times. The wheels were completely torqued and bent beyond repair. The frame was crumpled and—she leaned closer—yep, those looked a lot like tread marks on the paint. Her nice, hot pink paint.

  She leaned it back against the wall and straightened, still staring at it. “Well, at least they knew where to bring the dead body.” Apparently she hadn’t been far off in her assumption that everyone in town had seen her on that bike. She had no idea what had transpired between the time it was stolen from Jake’s school and left here, but clearly, “I had a much, much better night than you did.”

  She sighed, pouted a little—her pretty pink bike was toast—then silently thanked the gods that she’d been smart enough to get rental insurance. She decided she needed a shower before figuring out what her next step should be and started stripping as she headed in that direction. She’d showered at Jake’s less than an hour ago, but, whether it was staring at the mangled bike or having had to put on yesterday’s outfit again this morning, she needed more than a fresh set of clothes.

  Jake. He’d asked her to call when she found anything out. He was probably still prepping his plane, or had just taken off by now, she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t know how long that k
ind of thing took, but he’d been up pretty quickly the other day with his student. She opted to put off calling him until she’d at least gone to the bike shop or found out anything about what had happened.

  Almost a full hour and a very restorative shower later, she was freshly dressed, hair pulled back, and the most minimal amount of makeup she’d applied in the past nine years. Colorado was starting to wear off on her a little.

  She debated on trying to get the bike to the bike shop, but unless she was going to carry it on her back, there was really no way to get it there. Which begged the question: who had dragged it up to the second story of the motel and left it in her room?

  She detoured away from Main Street and went into the tiny front office of the motel instead. Mabry was on duty that morning and was looking as disgustingly chipper and happy as Lauren herself had felt…until about an hour ago.

  “Hello, Miss Matthews—”

  “Lauren, please.”

  “Lauren,” she said, nodding. “What can I do for you?”

  Obviously, Mabry knew nothing about the bike. “I was away last night and when I got to my room this morning, my rental bike was there, all mangled and bent up. Do you know anything about that? I had left it up at McKenna’s Flight School yesterday, but we discovered it was gone from there this morning.”

  The older woman frowned. “And where did you say you found it?”

  “It was in my room. Do you know who put it there?”

  Her eyes widened a bit at that piece of news, so it didn’t look promising that she was going to be much help. “In your room? And you hadn’t loaned it to anyone? The bike, I mean?”

  “No. I didn’t loan out my room key, either. So I was just curious if someone here found it and realized it was mine.”

  “I’ll have to ask. I just came on at seven.”

  “Who was on the shift before you?”

  “Debbie. I’m sure she knows something about it, but just forgot to tell me. We had a lot of late-night check-in’s for the weekend, so it was crazy busy last night into the early hours.”