“Huh. That’s not the impression I got.”
It was so strange talking to her like this. I’d been so jealous of her since the night of Damien’s last party that I’d sort of built her up in my head into some big thing. Maybe she was just a girl trying to find someone who made her happy. A beautiful girl with a perfect figure and a friendly, outgoing personality—but still somehow alone.
Without another word—because I had no idea what to say—I got into my car and backed down the road far enough to give Jen room to get out. She waved at me as she drove by, and I waved back. She wasn’t a threat to me anymore. I didn’t think Victoria was either.
Once I’d gotten my car shut into the garage for the night, I headed outside to the back. So, he’d told Jen to block my driveway, huh? Well, that was more than enough reason to go hunt him down.
I found him standing with a bunch of other guys around the fire pit, his back to me. I’d recognize his posture and the set of his shoulders anywhere. Then I realized that there was a white rectangle on the back of his shirt. I narrowed my eyes, trying to see what it was.
As I got closer, I realized that someone had taped a sign to his back.
No way. That was my thing.
Another few yards, and I could make out what it said: Property of Krista. Hands off.
I stopped, frozen by shock, and stared at it. Who? How?
I had no answers, but I could save him from the embarrassment, so instead of rushing toward him to start a fight, I went to save him instead. I stumbled to a stop just inches away from him and pulled on the sign.
But it didn’t come away. It just tugged his shirt down and stayed there. Whoever had put it on his back must have used superglue instead of tape.
Damien turned around, pulling at the neckline of his shirt to save himself from choking. “Krista,” he said, when he could speak again.
“Hold on. You’ve got a sign on your back.”
“I do?” he asked, trying to look over his shoulder and tugging on his shirt.
“Be still.” I pushed on his massive shoulders until he turned around for me and held still while I pried the paper loose. It ripped almost in half, but I finally got it off, duct tape and all. Dang. Whoever it was didn’t want this to come off.
As I crumpled it up, I thought hard and looked around at Damien’s friends. The only one who’d been here who even knew me was Victoria. And she wouldn’t have done this...would she?
Damien grabbed the paper away from me and walked over to the patio table. He smoothed it out and pushed the torn edges back together again.
I waited, flustered and embarrassed, to see how he’d react to it.
“Wow, sweetheart! You didn’t need to resort to this. All you had to do was say you wanted to be my girlfriend.”
I gaped at him. “Wait. I didn’t put that on you.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing me. “Okay. Even though you’ve got a history of taping signs on people and even though you’ve been threatening to do something like this if I made you mad? Which obviously I did earlier today. Do you still have a job, by the way?”
“What? Yeah. But I didn’t—”
“And even though literally no one else here would have written these words?”
I pressed my hands over my face, unable to face him. Or any of the dozen people watching us. “Damien, stop! Why would I—”
He pried my hands away from my face. “Are you crying?”
“Just when I was starting to think I could do this, you keep making me mad. I’m an idiot.”
“Dang it, Krista.”
Then, before I knew what was happening, he flung me over his shoulder and strode toward his back door. I beat my fist against his back. “Not your place. There are people there.”
He muttered a curse and changed directions. His long stride covered ground so fast that in no time, he’d carried me inside my house. Bending forward, he loosened his grip and let me slide off. “Now, why the heck are you crying? It was just a joke, and everyone out there knew it.”
I tugged my shirt down since it had ridden up. “The sign was a joke?”
“No. Accusing you of putting it on me was a joke. They all know I put it on myself.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. Just in case you got any ideas about other girls chasing after me at the party. I wanted to make things clear to them even if they aren’t to you. I know this party was terrible timing, but I was volunteered to throw a party for one of my buddies a few weeks ago. I completely forgot about it until everyone started showing up.” He laughed briefly. “I’ve had other things on my mind.”
But that wasn’t the only thing I was irked about. “Okay, but what about telling Jen to block my driveway?”
He grinned. “That was to make sure you talked to me before the night ended, even if it was only to yell at me.”
“Yell at you? Oh, I’m going to do more than that. You are so dead.”
He must have seen my intention to tackle him in my eyes because he pulled a chair out from my dining room table and dodged behind it. “Wait, Krista. In my defense, you’ve been avoiding me lately, so when Jen showed up, it was too tempting.”
“You know what else is tempting?”
“Kissing me?”
“Replace the s’s with l’s.”
But instead of looking scared, he laughed. I charged at him, vaulting up on the chair seat, ready to destroy him.
I probably should have thought that through more.
Instead of breaking past his defense, I ended up surprising him so much he pulled back on the chair, tipping me towards him with too much momentum to catch myself. Everything became a blur of flailing arms and falling.
When the impact came, I barely felt it, cradled against his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around me. I lay across him at a slight angle with my feet tangled up in the rungs of the chair back, unable to move off. His shoulder was up against the wall, and from his position, he had to have hit his head against it as well.
“Shoot, Damien. Are you okay?”
He let go of me with one hand and felt the back of his head. “I might have a bump in a minute, but nothing’s broken. Dang, Krista. If I’d known you just wanted to tackle me, I wouldn’t have been running away from you.”
I rose up on my arms and stared down at him unbelievingly. “Are you…making a joke right now? How? I just tried to murder you.”
“Hey. Anything to get you in my arms again.”
“I just can’t anymore,” I said, giving in at last. What was the use of logic and restraint when he was so ridiculously darling? I moved my hands to cup his head and gave in to the madness, kissing him with all the fire and abandon that I’d just about put into ripping him to shreds.
His hands found my hips, lifting and pulling me free of the chair as he shifted to lay flat on floor, obviously wanting to get more comfortable for what would hopefully be a very long and thorough make-out session.
“What are you two doing back there?”
I broke off our very satisfying kiss and craned my neck to see Victoria staring down at us like we’d lost our minds. She wasn’t wrong.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Damien asked. “Please go away.”
“Oh, I am. That’s what I came to tell you. I’m all packed and headed out, so you don’t have to hide behind the table anymore.”
I didn’t bother explaining how we’d ended up back here. “You’re leaving? Just like that?”
She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I’m a determined person but not an idiot. I sat Damien down earlier and asked him all those questions you told me to ask him. I didn’t believe that he really loved you, but I guess he does.”
“Loves me?”
Damien gave a frustrated growl. “Clearly, I’ve done a better job of convincing her than I have you.” Then he tilted his head and focused on my lips again. “I guess I just need to work harder at it.”
“Gross!” Victoria shrieked. “At least wait till I l
eave.”
I pulled away from Damien’s kiss just long enough to say, “Then leave. We won’t miss you.”
Maybe I still hadn’t figured out how to believe in a happily ever after, but I was finally ready to admit that this kind of trouble was the best kind of fun.
I had a feeling Damien’s confidence would take care of the rest.
“So I take it you’re finally agreeing to be my girlfriend for real?” he asked as the door shut behind Victoria. Well, maybe slammed was a better word.
“Yes. But I’m not promising I’ll be good at it. I’m willing to be reckless and see where this goes.”
“I promise you won’t regret it.” He kissed the end of my nose. “I mean, come on. Look at me. How could you?”
My smile was warm, natural, and brimming over with amusement. “How about if you use those lips to kiss me instead of bragging about yourself?”
“If you insist.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
I walked into The Loft the next evening for the first time since I’d been fired. Maybe meeting my mom here wasn’t the best idea in the world, but I didn’t know of another restaurant that was fancy enough to keep my mom from making a scene. There were a few things I needed to talk to her about, and I didn’t want her to dominate the discussion with one of her outbursts.
I carried a wrapped canvas under my arm. I wasn’t completely sure that bringing it was a good idea. More than any other work of art I’d ever finished, I was proud of it. So much of me was ingrained in each careful stroke of acrylic paint. No doubt she would hate it and point out my lack of talent, but that wasn’t the point.
“Good evening,” the hostess said. “Do you have a reservation?”
I smiled at her, the expression coming so much easier to me now. “I’m meeting my mother. I believe she’s already here.”
“Of course. Please follow me.”
As we went into the dining room, nostalgia rushed over me. The scents, the decor, and even the instrumental music playing softly in the background brought back so many memories. I wondered if Charlotte was working in the kitchen tonight. Hopefully, Bryce wouldn’t be our waiter. That would just be awkward.
For him more than me.
My mother sat with her head down, looking over the menu. She wore a pretty blue dress and rather heavy makeup.
“Sorry I’m late,” I said, taking the seat across from her.
“That’s okay. What’s that?” she asked, looking at my package.
“I’ll show you in a minute.”
“I was surprised to get your text. You’ve never invited me to dinner before.”
I caught the flick of accusation in her voice. “I know. I hope we can do it more often going forward.”
Our waiter came up then, and I was glad to see it was Connor. “Hey, Krista. How are you?”
“I’m doing great,” I replied with enthusiasm. Because I was. “Can I just have a water, please?” I wasn’t planning to stay long. “Oh, and a piece of chocolate cake to go. And tell Charlotte it’s for me so she’ll cut an extra thick piece.”
He looked surprised but didn’t question it. Which was good. A woman shouldn’t have to explain her need for chocolate cake. “I’ll have it right out,” he said, slipping away with an amused smile.
When he’d left, my mother said, “What’s the occasion? I hope it’s to explain why you kicked Victoria out last night. She didn’t tell me much about it before she had to leave for work this morning.”
I pushed my frustration down. I’d known this was going to be hard, hadn’t I? “I didn’t kick her out. She chose to leave because she saw that it was pointless for her to stay. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
My mother waited, silently watching me as Connor set my water down in front of me. “Then what is it?”
I sighed. “Mostly, I just need to say a few things. First of all, I’m sorry that I didn’t do a better job of telling you why I moved out. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you where I was going. I was just a coward. I needed to get away from your toxic voice and escape the control you’re always trying to have on my life, but now, instead of running away, I’m simply going to draw a boundary. All of my emotional baggage from our relationship almost ruined my chance at happiness. In the future, if you want to be part of my life, you’re going to have to change the way you talk to me and treat me.”
She looked frozen except for her rapidly blinking eyes. “You brought me here to fight with me?”
“No. To tell you how you can have a relationship with me in the future if you want one.” I reached for the painting and unwrapped it. I propped it up on the chair between us so that she could see it but it wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else in the restaurant. “This painting represents the journey I’m on to embrace myself and my own happiness. I’m sorry that you’ve never been able to do the same. I wanted to give it to you…I guess because I’m hoping it will inspire you to start the same journey.”
“Krista, I don’t know what to say. I hope you’ll be happy, but I can’t see it happening with Damien. Someone like him was meant for the Victorias of the world. But if you want me to, I’ll stand back and let you find that out the hard way.”
Honestly, I hadn’t expected anything else, but her words still cut deep. I refused to let her see it. And in a way, that was liberating. “Yes. That’s what I want.”
“Fine then.” Her ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you’ remained unspoken, but I heard it just the same.
Connor returned then with my cake, and it seemed to be the cue for my exit. I pulled out my wallet and laid a couple of fifty-dollar bills down on the table, just a small fraction of my new paycheck. “Order whatever you want, Mom. I’m not staying. Damien is waiting for me outside.”
She didn’t protest, so I stood up to leave with my cake in hand.
“Take that painting with you. Save me the trouble of throwing it away.”
Her rejection, however much I’d expected it, still lanced through me. But thanks to how much I was changing—growing—I had more than enough strength to pick up my painting and walk away without a flicker of emotion.
As I walked through the lobby, the hostess called after me, “Are you leaving?”
“I’m afraid so. I’m sorry.”
“Please come back again.”
I nodded, in a rush to leave before I lost my tenuous grip over my emotions, but then paused. “Does Bryce still work here?”
She nodded, looking surprised.
“Don’t let him give you crap, okay?”
She smiled, then held up her hand to her mouth as if to smother a laugh. “You’ve got it.”
Feeling immeasurably better, I walked out to the parking lot.
Damien saw me coming and got out of his truck, meeting me partway with his hand out to take the painting. “She didn’t want it, huh?”
“Nope.”
“What a witch.”
I handed it to him and forced myself to smile. “It’s okay. I think I’ll give it to Tessa instead. Something tells me she’ll appreciate it.”
Damien tucked it safely behind the driver’s seat and came back around to open my door. But before I climbed in, I wrapped my arms around him and leaned into his warm, steady strength. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around me too and pulled me close. I felt his lips press against my hair. If he was going to kiss me, I wanted to enjoy it.
Raising my head, I lifted my lips to his with a new confidence. The ease with which I could share my feelings meant the world to me. Somehow, without forcing me to be anything other than the prickly, unreadable, and sometimes scary woman I was, he managed to fit all my broken pieces together in a way that made sense.
He pulled away from my kiss and smoothed my hair back from my face. “You know it’s her loss, right?”
“Absolutely. And who knows—maybe someday she’ll figure that out. But for right now, I’ve got all I need to be happy. Thanks for being patient while I figured my crazy heart out.”
“Thanks for finally giving it to me.” One more kiss, and he helped me up into the truck. “Now, can I please go in there and see the guy who stuffs his underwear? I still have a few things I’d like to say to him.”
“No way. Get in the truck and take me home before I start eating this cake with my fingers.”
He laughed. “I don’t suppose you’re going to share?”
“Nope.”
“I’ll take my shirt off for you.”
“I keep telling you, that is getting so old.” It totally wasn’t, but I wasn’t about to admit that. “Besides, this is my reward for putting up with my mom.”
“Don’t I get a reward for everything I’ve put up with?”
“Yeah. Me.”
He laughed. “That’s fair. I’ll take it. You’re all I wanted anyway, sourpuss.
***
Angela’s story coming soon!
You can read Tessa’s story in “A Man Worth Shaving For”
and Rian’s story in “First Kiss Train Wreck”
as part of the Sweet Kisses Boxset!
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Acknowledgements
I would like to thank my family, as always, for their love and support.
Thank you to my cover designer, Lynn Lee
Special thanks to my editors Cara Seger and Arielle Bailey
And thank you for reading my books. Please consider leaving a review!
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http://www.michelle-pennington.com
Oh, Keep Your Shirt On: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (Shaped By Love Book 2) Page 16
