by Baker, Tory
Just One Kiss
Tory Baker
Contents
Title Image
Dedication
1. Rome
2. Summer
3. Rome
4. Summer
5. Rome
6. Summer
7. Rome
8. Summer
9. Rome
10. Summer
11. Rome
12. Summer
13. Rome
14. Summer
15. Rome
16. Summer
17. Rome
18. Summer
19. Rome
20. Summer
21. Rome
22. Summer
23. Rome
24. Summer
25. Rome
26. Summer
27. Rome
28. Summer
29. Rome
30. Summer
31. Rome
32. Summer
33. Rome
34. Summer
Epilogue One
Epilogue Two
COMING SOON
Prologue
Author Links
Also by Tory Baker
Tory Baker
Dedication
Find a friend that will believe in you, when you don’t believe in yourself. I have one, she’ll yell at me if I name her though, but just know how thankful I am to have you in my life
<3
1
Rome
I hate wearing these damn monkey suits, yet I find myself once again wearing one for this event. One that is supposed to bring a slew of new clients in. If it wasn’t for a good cause, I probably would have just written a check and called it a day.
When our company was invited to this event, all of us started to overlook it. Until our secretary stated what the cause was for. It put us all on hold. Mason and Heath looked at me, and I knew what that look was.
Of course, they would volunteer me, both of those knuckle heads refuse to wear ties to our business meetings, let alone a black-tie event.
That left me to be the front man tonight, much like I am at our real estate firm.
The three of us were well known in our college careers to raise hell, but to work, and to work hard at that.
In our younger years, we didn’t come from a world filled with love and devotion. That is before we all landed in a foster home and were eventually adopted out to our mother, a woman I look up to like no other before. Why she ever felt the need to adopt three unruly teenage boys, I’ll never know, but fuck am I thankful for her.
She cleaned us up, made us get good grades, put our butts in a sport, and was front and center no matter how well we did or how bad we did.
We’ve always been as thick as thieves, just like we are today. We weren’t going to let our past define us.
Momma Tina is the reason we are where we are today. She showed us what it was like to receive love, devotion, and to know our own worth.
We had hopes and dreams, and the three of us devised a plan. We divided and conquered, each of us getting a degree in the field that we loved, but also would be beneficial to our futures. Not to mention, we all wanted to repay her back, not just in monetary funds. Though all of us knew how much it costs to raise a boy, let alone three boys.
So, we did what we had to do. Now here we all are in our thirties. I meet with potential clients and other real estate companies, essentially a hook, line, and sinker aspect of the company. That doesn’t mean I’m not out there busting my ass with the rest of the employees. There is always a new client, not to mention homes, condos, and commercial businesses that are looking to be bought and sold.
Mason is the mastermind with numbers. He’s constantly crunching, calculating, and investing. He keeps us well informed on what we need to maintain our company and makes us money, hand over fist.
Heath, well he is the mastermind behind Three Brothers Investing. He loves to live behind his computer and keeps us running with the day to day aspect, if it’s anything to do with technology, he’s the one doing it.
The three of us all kept the same pact, to work our asses off, make our mom proud, go to college, invest as soon as we could, and become successful.
I run my fingers through my hair one last time while looking out at the dark ocean that you can see from the building. What I wouldn’t give to be out there in the ocean though, just me, my surfboard, and the waves.
I’m already counting down the hours until this shindig is over, taking one last look at the water I turn and head towards the open bar.
2
Summer
This venue is more than opulent, it’s like a fairy tale in a dream I once had as a little girl. The room setting is dark, but has twinkling lights all along the walls, chandeliers that are sparkling from the way they are hung, the abundance of flowers, and flickering luminaria candles that are on the table settings.
Sure, it’s beautiful. But not as beautiful as the sun that rises over the ocean every morning.
My father was adamant for me to be here, he had a last-minute business meeting he couldn’t cancel…supposedly.
Now it’s up to me to look, act, and appear to be the best of the best.
That’s why I’m groomed from head to toe for this function. My day started at the spa and ended with being poured into this skintight dress. Something I would never wear in the land of Summer. How they think this is how I would ever normally function is beyond me. I’m the type of girl that prefers to be in a pair of cut off jean shorts, tank top, and flip flops. Lucky for me, living in New Smyrna Beach allows me to do that most of the year.
I take a deep breath and let it out, praying like hell it’ll give me a little more breathing room. The personal shopper that picked this dress out should have to wear it for a week, and then come talk to me.
My hair was washed, trimmed, blown dry, flat ironed, and then put in this tight updo style that I loathe. And all for what? To look like the perfect child for my parents.
I understand, I truly do. This is their image, what our family’s name means a lot to them, but I’m just a girl that wants to let her hair down even when the humidity makes my mountains of curls stand on end, no make-up, and walking down the beach with my toes in the sand.
Sadly, that won’t be happening tonight. Nope, I’ll be here tonight, in pain, in the form of this too tight dress, sky-high heels, and face plastered with more make-up than ever.
I look down at myself one more time, getting out the wrinkles that surely aren’t there from this insanely priced dress.
I’m on a mission, and that mission is to the bar for a glass of wine.
Walking stealthily in these heels, because let’s face it, Mother and Father were not going to allow their daughter to not act like a lady. Even at twenty-seven years old, with a job of my own, and a roof I pay for over my head. They still expect certain things, sure I should walk away and do my own thing entirely. But, sometimes keeping the peace is easier than dealing with the aftermath, and really what child wants to walk away from their parents. I love them even with all of the nonsense they put me through.
The bar is just in reach, sadly without stools, looks like this will be a standing only night until dinner is served. I look down at my feet and say a silent apology, promising them they’ll be in their customary flip flops tomorrow.
When I reach the bar, I ask the bartender, “Hi, can I get a glass of cabernet?”
“Coming right up,” he turns to uncork the bottle of wine. I take this time to lean on the bar, giving my feet a break, but also people watching. Something I enjoy thoroughly, no matter where I am.
It fascinates me how people act when there’s a charity event, sure it’s for a good cause, but I secretly think it’s so they can
show off how much they are worth or the latest material item they bought.
It’s going to be a freaking really long night, I murmur under my breath.
3
Rome
My eyes lock on the woman that walked up to the bar, my hand is braced on the edge while my other hand is holding the glass of whiskey I asked for.
There’s no other word for her except drop dead gorgeous, the best part is you can tell she has no idea. She’s standing there, with her hair in all kinds of tight twists, and pulled back, severely at that.
It makes my hands itch to take out each and every pin that holds it back so tightly.
Her curves though, fuck. She has an hourglass type figure, something of a Marilyn Monroe body, curves I crave to have in my hands. She has me reeling and I haven’t even had her in my arms.
Taking one last sip of my drink before placing it back on the bar top, knowing one drink is my limit. Especially since I drove tonight.
I walk over to the beauty that has taken over my thoughts. I should be out there introducing myself to potential clients, but since she walked up everything and everyone else vanished.
“Hello,” I say to her, gaining her attention.
“Oh, hello there. I didn’t see you sneak up on me,” her voice is that of a melody, especially compared to my own gruff voice.
“I’m Rome Carter,” my hand going out to shake hers, when what I really want to do is take her into my arms.
“Nice to meet you Rome, I’m Summer Jones,” she replies, her eyes the color of the sky right before it’s about to storm, dark and hauntingly blue. Ones that I know will stay with me for all of time.
We both stand there, I see her staring out at the dance floor, and I know this is my in.
“Want to dance?” I ask her, knowing full well it’s the only way I’ll get to have her in my arms. And if it’s anything to tell by just one touch of our hands, I know once her body is near mine, I won’t ever want her to leave my side.
“Sure, let me just finish this glass?” she questions with a shyness in her tone. I nod my head, sticking close by her side. Knowing if I don’t these leeches at this event will be after Summer.
Once she told me her name, I remembered hearing about her at the office every once in a while. Summer’s a free spirit, one even her father can’t reign in, no matter how much he tries. She’s elusive like the wind.
Her father, Richard, has been in our office a time or two carrying on. I’ve never put her face with the name. Now that I have though, she’s in my sights and I’ll never let her out of it.
“Absolutely,” my voice is just above a whisper, not wanting the outside world to impede on our moment. Her eyes never leaving mine as she takes the last sip.
4
Summer
Well if there’s one thing to say about being somewhere I’d rather not be, it’s that at least I have someone that is in my realm of age, not to mention he’s handsome too.
Unlike who my father tries to set me up with one of his “friends” another one of his great ideas, marry off his only child like we’re back in the eighteen-hundreds. Usually, they are as old as my father, that though makes me cringe eternally.
I take the last sip of my wine, this one a hardy one at that. It’s so un-lady like, but I don’t really care. The thought of dancing with Rome is my only goal at this time.
My eyes go back to the man who has captured my attention, he fills out his tux like no other man I’ve seen before. His deep green eyes that pull you in, he’s comfortable in the way he carries himself. The tone of his skin is a warm golden tone. One you’re not sure if he was born with or if he loves the outdoors as much as I do.
Rome’s attention doesn’t seem to leave mine even as I place my wine glass on the bar top.
“I’m ready,” I tell him, his gaze perusing over my body. It makes the flesh on my skin pebble up and bead.
“I guess you are,” he croons. Rome places his hand at my lower back and guides me to the dance floor. With his height and stature, people seem to move out of his way, it’s enough to make me feel small and safe walking by his side. Something I’m really not. I have curves and for the most part, I’ve embraced them. That doesn’t mean I don’t know that sometimes when you do have a different body shape, people look at you differently.
When we get to the floor, I’m spun and his hand finds mine, he tucks it against his chest, leaving his other arm to wrap around my waist. I raise my arm and hold onto his upper arm.
“Just like that, baby,” his head dips, my breathing hitches. I think he’s going to kiss me. Yet, he doesn’t. He glides his nose along mine in the sweetest gesture I could ever receive.
In all of my years, I’ve been told who to date. Not that I actually went on those that were foisted on me by my parents. I was always able to finagle myself out of them. It’s one of the best things about the career path I chose. Of course, it was ill fitting for them, but I truly love it. Being a freelance photographer allows me to travel the world, take in the sights, and stay away from my parents. Don’t get me wrong, I love them, but I think they forgot what unconditional love was along the way.
Rome brings me further into his body, allowing me to get out of my own head. I look up at him, he has a soft smile playing on his face. He’s devastatingly handsome, the five o’clock shadow he has, it doesn’t usually look good on the men I’ve been around, but he makes it look effortless and handsome.
I really hope this is a night to remember.
“Rome,” I whisper out. He tips his head in acknowledgement, slowly moving the hand he had at the small of my back to where the skin on the back of my neck is bare, I can feel every tingle on the path he took to get there.
He squeezes my nape in a reassuring motion and slowly brings my head to rest on his shoulder.
I don’t care who’s looking, talking, or dancing around us. It’s just the two of us, and I couldn’t be more thankful.
5
Rome
Fuck, I hate to dance, but now I’m thankful as fuck Mom made all of us boys learn how to. I could have kept her on the dance floor for hours, but I saw the way she was wincing after two songs, slowly moving from one foot to the other at one point.
Leading her to the tables, not giving a damn that we’re supposed to sit where our names are assigned. I hold onto her hand while pulling her chair out with the other.
Once she’s settled, I sit down in the chair beside her. The bonus of this event is that the chairs are so close together our legs are touching, and that feeling of closeness doesn’t leave.
Her scent lingers in the air, it reminds me so much of the beach. The smell of suntan lotion mixed in with coconut. This woman, she’s going to be the one for me. I knew it with just a single touch.
“So, tell me something about yourself?” she asks.
I’m not usually one to talk about myself. I’m what they call more of a watcher and less of a talker, but for some reason in Summer’s presence I have no problem telling her about myself and what I do.
“I own a real estate company with my brothers, Mason and Heath. Those two should be here with me now but were able to weasel their way out of it,” I tell her. She laughs and says, “I know what you mean. If I had it my way, I’d be at home sans shoes and curled up on the couch reading a good book.”
Her laugh is just like the rest of her, stunningly beautiful. I find myself wanting to hear her laugh all night. We sit and chat about everything and nothing in between. We talk about our careers, something I’m noticing she’s very passionate about. It lights up her whole face when she talks about traveling. I can’t say that I’ve ever had anything in my life besides my brothers and our mom that make me as happy as she is right now.
I tell her about my love for surfing every morning, even if it’s only for an hour. Her face lit up when she replied, “I go to the beach every chance I get, at least once a day. Maybe I’ll see you out there sometime.”
“As a matter of fact, I’
ll be out there tomorrow. Do you have any plans?” I ask her.
“I don’t have anything going on, you do know tomorrow is New Year’s Eve though, right?” she replies with a smile on her face.
“Yep, I have no big plans though. Figure I’ll wake up early, catch some waves, and wander around a bit. You’re more than welcome to join,” I respond to her. My hand is draped on the back of her chair, we’re both turned into each other. There’s chatter all around us, the only thing that has our attention is each other.
“I’ll be there, what time?”
“Around six, the waves are better in the morning.” Her smile wans, but then she responds with, “Okay, I’ll just make sure I have extra coffee before I get there.”
“Not much of a morning person?”
“Not at all, in fact, if this event doesn’t end soon, I’ll turn into a pumpkin before midnight,”
“I don’t see that happening, think it’s too early to leave? I know a great burger joint that’s still open,” I suggest.
“Really? Let’s go. Don’t be surprised if I walk barefoot though. These shoes are torture,” she picks up the bottom of her dress, and from what I can tell those shoes may hurt her, but fuck what they do to her legs.
