by L. T. Kelly
Kissing Katie
A Kissing Story
By L.T. Kelly
Kissing Katie
Copyright © 2015 - 2019, L.T. Kelly. The 2nd edition of this novel published 15th February 2019.
Edited by Michele Paulin and Liza Green
Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.
Book Description - Kissing Katie by L.T. Kelly
Iraq war widow Katie Simmons hasn’t considered giving love another chance since the devastating loss of her husband. She’s happy sharing her love with her six-year-old daughter, Jessica. What more could she want from life?
Evan Waters is headed for the big time. He’s plowing his time, money and energy into recording Spires’ debut album. Following on in his British rock legend father’s footsteps, he has big shoes to fill, a mission made more difficult by his alcoholic mother.
When Katie and Evan meet on the London Underground, she denies his advances. Evan must find a way to demolish the walls she’s built around her heart. But even if he’s successful, will he be able to provide her with the commitment she deserves and still fulfill his ambitions?
For my sister, who I hope will one day find true love.
Acknowledgements
Writing this book was a painful journey for me. I dug deep into my military career and tried to see things from the side of the ones that are left behind. Broken and forgotten. Katie deserved bliss, and I’m pleased to be the one that gave her a happy ending.
Firstly, I’d like to thank my beta readers. Without them there’s no possible way to see the wood for the trees. Thank you, MK Meredith, a dear friend and an unfathomable supporter in all that I do. To Katie Kelly for your honesty, and for being my sister in every sense of the word.
Chapter One
Katie Simmons kept her eyes on the dirty pavement and watched her feet move along until she reached the entrance of the subway. She took a deep breath, held it then ducked inside. The air felt stiff, the warm summer sun carrying its heat into the building along with the passengers who rushed around like ants heading back to the nest with a picnic.
She took the escalator down to the maze of tunnels leading to the different platforms. Tourists stood around with blank faces and white knuckles, holding onto suitcases. Katie scurried past, ignoring them, as was a London tradition.
Her platform was packed out. She pressed her back against the cool tiles and waited for the train to arrive. The morning rush hour was always the same. With it being Friday, the stream of people headed into London for the weekend to catch a show, or whatever they came to do, had bumped up the numbers.
Katie had been impressed with her timeliness that morning. She was nothing if not habitually late and disorganized, but she’d made a truckload of promises to her six-year-old daughter, Jessica. Katie’s tardiness had taken its toll on Jessica’s education because her homework was never done or in her bag on the right day. This wasn’t mentioning that Katie was moments from being fired for being late.
She stared at the advertisement across the tracks, lost in thought, making a mental list of all the things she had to do that weekend and repeating it over and over again in the hope she’d commit it all to memory.
Suddenly, she felt a stare aimed at her. Her stomach churned and her skin prickled as she turned in that direction. Her shoulders rose with the movement of her head. Sea-green eyes bored into her from beneath thick blond brows.
Her throat burned as she looked away from the man’s avid scrutiny. His body shifted beside her, and she tensed as she took a low, sweeping glance back in his direction. Her sight traveled his long legs to his torso where definition clearly stood out beneath the tight, sky-blue T-shirt he wore. She quickly looked away again when she observed his muscular arms as they folded across his chest.
Her cheeks flamed. The weight of his stare hadn't subsided. It had intensified. She cleared her throat and shuffled along the wall away from him. Her head snapped up when he chuckled. His eyes danced with amusement under the dim subway lights.
An air of arrogance radiated from him, seeming almost visible. Her mouth snapped shut, and her eyes narrowed on him. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah, come for a drink with me.” He scraped his chin-length, floppy blond hair away from his face, but it fell back to where it had been.
The American accent threw her off kilter. She hadn’t expected that or, least of all, his crazy request. She squeezed her brows together.
“And why on earth would I do that?”
“Because I’m worth the risk.” He shrugged and offered her a white, perfectly straight-toothed grin.
The irony of what he’d said wasn’t lost on her. He wasn’t a just risk. He stank of danger. Her tut sounded out immediately. “And modest, so I see.”
The train clattered into the station, and Katie joined the horde scrambling to get onboard, in the hope she could lose the smug bastard. She wouldn’t go for a drink with him if her life depended on it. Plus, she wasn’t interested. Love, relationships and even sex were the last thing on her mind and had been for years.
“Excuse me, excuse me,” he called out behind her.
She remained fixated on getting through the carriage doors, trying to convince herself that if she made it through she’d be home free.
The car was jam-packed, with standing room only. She selected the nearest available space and grabbed the yellow handrail to claim the spot as her own. She cringed as she looked up and observed the guy squeezing into a small gap opposite her, getting in other passengers’ space with a guitar case and his gigantic ego. A man wearing a suit and tie stepped into the carriage and glanced up and down him as though to say, Move out of the bloody way, but, this stranger wasn’t going anywhere—she could tell that by the shit-eating grin he wore while his inpenetrable gaze seemed to shoot through her.
“It’s only a drink.” He shrugged, continuing the conversation from the platform as though it had never ended.
She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips, trying her utmost to portray disinterest to his unwanted advances. It was difficult. No one had given her the come-on for years. Being a single mother, she’d gotten to thinking of herself as unattractive, as could sometimes happen to a woman. Or perhaps the brick wall she’d built around herself was the cause? The one that clearly stated “go away”?
She cleared her throat, realizing her steely glare had gone on for too long. “I doubt you’re even old enough to buy me a drink.”
Against her will, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips when the blue-haired, Asian girl next to her released a giggle. The guy shrugged again. Every time he did it, she felt a spark of something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Despite being vertically challenged at a little over five-feet, she’d always been attracted to tall, well-built guys. His physique did nothing to help her resolve.
“I’m twenty-one. Sure I can buy you a drink,” he said, ignoring their suddenly interested audience.
Katie groaned aloud. Twenty-bloody-one, if you ever stood a chance, which you didn’t, you just completely lost it, mate.
Katie smiled, and his expression morphed into something she hadn’t felt for a while. Hope.
“Okay, you may legally be able to buy me a drink, but I must regretfully inform you that I don’t date guys w
ho were still wearing nappies when I chose which high school to attend.”
The blue-haired girl snickered. Katie glanced over to see pure glee on her face. It seemed like she wanted to high-five Katie for her witty comebacks.
“Ah, come on,” he spoke with a breathy laughter. “What are you? Like twenty-five? So unless you started high school early, I’m eligible. Besides, age is merely a number.”
“Try again, love. Trust me, you were still wearing nappies, and with my wealth of experience, I happen to know what ‘a drink’ actually translates to in man speak, or in this case, boy speak.”
“I don’t really care how old you are, and your fighting is making me want that drink with you all the more. I promise to behave honorably.” He pressed a palm to his chest, still wearing that annoying, yet devilishly handsome grin.
Her skin prickled. She doubted she could put up a fight for much longer. Not having sex for five years could do that to someone. His blatant attraction stirred something in her stomach she didn’t want, like a sickness bug or something equally unpleasant and destructive.
That smile got to her. She silently prayed he’d stop moving because whenever the carriage juddered, he clung tighter to the handrail and his bicep flexed deliciously.
This is ridiculous. No. No way. Don’t do this to yourself. She gritted her teeth, determined not to give in and trying to conjure up another smart retort.
The carriage rolled into West Hampstead. She quickly glanced at her watch, she had twenty minutes to get to work, if she got off the train there, as she wanted to, she’d never make it. She couldn’t lose her job, but she couldn’t risk letting this guy get to her any more, either. An idea suddenly hit her, a way to get rid of this pesky temptation.
“How about you give me your number, and I’ll sleep on it?” She worked hard to inject a genuine tone into her voice.
“Really?”
She nodded. Katie had always been a crap liar, so speaking might give away her game. She dodged his gaze, her eyes landing on the girl who’d delighted in her earlier display of rejection.
The blue-haired girl’s mouth pressed into a thin line. She shook her head clearly put out by Katie’s seeming change of heart.
The guy patted around his jeans pockets, keeping the guitar case steady between his knees. He pulled out a card and reached around the unamused man in the suit to give it to her. She shoved it into her work-issue tunic pocket without taking a solitary glance at it.
“Thanks,” she muttered, her mouth downturned. Her cheeks burned as a few other commuters offered her knowing glances, some of them filled with narrow-eyed envy.
“What’s your name anyway?”
Katie cringed, wondering when the guy would get off her back. She still had two stops to go. She glanced down at her feet, not wanting to give him any idea that she might be remotely interested in talking to him, let alone anything else.
“Mel.” Her best friend’s name rolled off her tongue without hesitation. She wanted to slap herself. This guy had been a bad influence on her since the moment they had met. She’d experienced attraction, temptation and she’d lied, not once but twice. The problem being that she now realized he’d know where she worked. Well, he would if he were smart. The logo on her tunic spelled it all out for him. If he were crazy enough to show up there, he’d get an entirely different person. One who wouldn’t show any hesitation in telling him where to go? She kept her head dipped but took a quick peep up at the stunning temptation…or would she?
Katie managed to stop herself from staring at him until she arrived at her stop. The same couldn’t be said of him though. She felt it the whole time. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself turning beet red under his feverish admiration. He’d never know how confused and angry he made her. This wasn’t her style, strong willed to the point of defiance described her more aptly. Yet, this guy had reduced her to an indecisive mess.
The train halted at her destination. It smacked of a lottery win when the next stop blared out over the speaker, announcing their arrival. She didn’t say goodbye or acknowledge him as she scurried to the opening doors of the carriage.
“So, you’ll call me then, Mel?”
She almost didn’t turn, because that wasn’t her name then remembered her lie.
“I’ll sleep on it,” she threw back over her shoulder as the doors closed.
She double stepped to work, relieved to get to the locker room a few minutes early. Mel, the queen of all organization, was already there.
“Morning, love.”
“Yeah, hi,” Katie mumbled in reply, opening her locker door to stick her bag inside.
“What’s up with you, you moody cow?”
“Shit morning.”
“Well, I hope you won’t be in this crappy mood all day.”
Katie slammed the locker door shut and turned to lean her forehead on it. “Sorry.”
“How was it a shit morning? It’s only bloody half past nine.”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Yeah, I do, or I wouldn’t be asking would I?” Mel said with a half-smile, guiding Katie away from her locker and toward the door. They made their way to the top floor of the hotel, Mel staring at her the whole time and looking as though she were waiting for Katie to divulge the morning’s events. They reached the storeroom where all their stuff was kept, and Mel’s growing glower made Katie uneasy.
“Bloody hell!” Katie snapped, spinning toward her friend.
Mel’s held her palms up. “I’m only trying to help.”
“It was a bloke. Just some American.”
“What?” Mel screwed up her face with confusion.
“On the train on my way here. He asked me out for a drink.”
“What did you say?” Mel asked, her eyes widening with excitement.
“What do you think I said?”
Mel huffed and slammed her hands onto her hips while rolling her eyes. “Would I bloody well ask you if I knew?”
“I said no.” She blew out a long breath, her eyes directed at the ceiling. “Okay, I said I’d think about it, but I only said it to get him off my case.”
“Why? Was he ugly?”
Katie pushed the cart out into the hallway, ignoring Mel’s question.
“Katie, your face is bright red, so I’ll take that as a no. Why did you do that then?”
“Because I’m not ready,” she said, charging down the corridor with the cleaning cart. Mel had to break into a run to keep up. Her hand darted out to Mel’s shoulder and prevented her from moving forward. Katie turned to face her already knowing what Mel would say to her.
“When will it ever be the right time?” Mel spoke in hushed tones, her eyes filled with sincerity.
“Never,” she whispered and charged down the corridor until she reached the end.
Her chance had been there once, she’d taken it and had been left without the thing she’d thought she’d have for many years to come…a loving husband. That, in her mind, had been her one chance. Lee was dead, so there would never be another. Not now, not ever. One love, one life.
* * * *
“Hey, are the other guys here yet?” Evan Waters asked, stepping into the recording room at the studio. Ray peered up from the complicated mass of colored dials and sliders and shook his head. Ray was a man of few words, but he was one of the best sound engineers in England. That's why Evan had chosen that studio to record Spires debut album.
“Okay, well, I’ll go ahead and start setting up then.”
Ray nodded before turning back to whatever he’d been doing when Evan had interrupted.
After laying down his guitar case and unsnapping the clasps, Evan lifted out his prized guitar and stared at the old, beat-up, long-playing record that lived beneath it in the case. Always close to his guitar, forever close to his heart. He took a moment, pressing his two fingers to his lips then placing them on the record before slapping the lid back down. It had been his ritual for as long as he could remember.
<
br /> He heard Alex, Spires’ bassist, complaining from down the corridor. Evan rolled his eyes as his band mate pushed through the studio door.
“Who are you rolling your eyes at, boy wonder?” Alex asked. He narrowed his eyes on Evan as he stopped, widened his stance and folded his arms across his chest.
“All you’ve done since we’ve gotten here is bitch and whine. I thought my mom was here,” Evan stated coolly.
The other guys snickered behind him in the doorway. Alex charged past Evan and slammed down his guitar case.
“You need to get your act together. We play the gig in three days, and we still don’t have the new track down.”
Evan huffed, rolling his eyes again as he stood and threw his guitar strap over his head. “You need to chill the fuck out. We’ll be ready, and if we’re not…” He shrugged and pursed his lips. “Then we’ll play an old one.”
Tom shook his head on his way to his drums. Their keyboardist, Jamie, followed closely behind them, neither of them speaking. They were probably getting tired of Evan and Alex’s constant bickering.
“You want us to play London an old track?” Alex spat, glowering at him.
“Yeah, because like, if you haven’t noticed, no one outside of LA has a fucking clue who we are, dickhead.”
Alex charged across the room, his bass swinging from his neck. Tom and Jamie leapt toward them to break it up before things went too far.
Evan held up his hands before Alex’s fist actually struck him. He and Alex had been friends for years. They’d begun the band when they were fourteen, but since they’d come to London, their friendship had cooled down to below zero.
“I’m so sick of treading on eggshells around you. What the fuck is wrong with you, Alex?”
Alex’s face suddenly filled Evan’s vision, his lips pulled back into a snarl. “You.” He jabbed a finger into Evan’s chest. “You made us all haul our asses over here. There was nothing wrong with a studio in LA. None of us asked to come here. Your money, your decision, huh? Well, fuck you, boy wonder. What about us? We’re a band. We’re meant to be a team.”
