Just One Kiss

by Isabel Sharpe

  “Hi. You’re Daniel’s roommate.”

  “Jake. We met across your counter.”

  “Jake, yes.” She shook his hand. He looked a lot more cheerful than he had that day. Maybe undercover cookie-buying made him nervous. “Beautiful flowers.”

  “Yeah?” He looked at them proudly. “Got them from that cute girl with the store across from you.”

  “Bonnie? She’s great.”

  “Seemed it.” He tugged at a red rose to make it stand out more prominently. “Would you want to date a guy who bought them for you?”

  She laughed. “Absolutely. Whoever she is, she’ll flip over them. And you.”

  “I hope so, thanks.” He blushed, grinning like a fool in love. Or was that redundant? “Daniel’s not home. You want to go in?”

  “I hoped he’d be here.” She tried not to sound as frantic as she was. “I want to surprise him.”

  “Allow me.” He whipped out his cell, punched in a number. “Yo, Daniel. Where are you? Uh-huh. Oh, she’s not? You’re—Okay, good. I’m out tonight with Valerie. Yes, again. Right. Okay.”

  He hung up the phone and beamed at Angela. “He’s on his way.”

  Her heart started pounding. “Thanks, Jake. Okay if I wait upstairs?”

  “You can do better than that.” He unlocked the building door and pushed it open for her. “There’s a key in the toe of one of the soccer shoes opposite our apartment. Let yourself in.”

  “I will, thank you.” Perfect. Perfect! She’d be able to surprise Daniel in a big, big way. Preferably naked. “Oh, and have fun tonight.”

  As the door closed behind Angela, he nodded, tipped an imaginary hat and exited into the street.

  Angela climbed the stairs to the second floor, remembering tenderly how she’d climbed these stairs with Daniel after her aborted evening at Noc Noc. Thinking how much hope and angst and effort people had to put into starting relationships. With any luck, after she got to talk to Daniel today, they could move forward without so much stress. Maybe without any.

  Holding her cupcake box, she fumbled in the soccer shoe, trying not to think about sweaty male toes, grabbed the key and let herself into the apartment, then walked toward the kitchen to put the cupcake box where Daniel would—

  Whoa.

  The kitchen looked as if a baking bomb had gone off. A mixture of flour, or confectioner’s sugar or both, and cocoa powder coated surfaces near the mixer, on the floor and even on the cabinets. On the table, saucers of chocolate cake, crushed in strange mounds, surrounded by mangled crumbs. A muffin pan with more cake clinging to it. Next to that, a small bowl, half-full of grainy, streaked chocolate frosting.

  Jake’s idea of a snack?

  Baking burglars?

  The front door opened. Angela jumped. She’d wanted to greet Daniel sitting calmly and stark naked on the couch but this could be Jake coming back for something, so it was just as well she was clothed.

  “Jake?” Daniel’s voice.

  Angela suppressed nervous laughter, heart lifting as if it had been pumped full of helium and hope.

  No, it wasn’t going to be the romantic setting or situation she had in mind when imagining her apology and, she hoped, their reconciliation. But then their entire first date had consisted of settings and situations she hadn’t imagined, either, and it had turned out to be nearly perfect. Maybe that was part of the good lessons she was learning, not to count too hard on things going exactly the way she expected. Maybe that’s what Jack had been trying to tell her when he talked about the model for his new series.

  “Angela.” The pleasure in Daniel’s voice and face dimmed when he took in the wreckage around them. “Uh. I was going to clean later.”

  “Exploding grocery bag?”

  “I made cupcakes.” He produced one very, very sad specimen on a plate, and put it on the kitchen table, clearly nervous. “Um. Actually, as it turned out, I only made one cupcake. Or something approaching the concept of cupcake. For you.”

  “Thank you.” She put her single-serving box next to the plate, embarrassed that her gift turned out to be one-upmanship. Though it would be hard to do worse than the one he’d made. “I brought you one, too. I’m sure yours is much better, though.”

  They both stared at the brown mangled mess he’d made, and then they both started cracking up. Nervously, yes, but it was good to be laughing together again.

  Really good.

  “Angela.” He took a few steps toward her, his blue eyes cautious. “I’m sorry I was—”

  She held up her hand to stop his unnecessary apology, impatient to explain. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Daniel. I’m the one who was pigheaded and blind to what you and several other people were trying to tell me. But I hear now. I understand. I’d be really, really proud to have my cookies at Slatewood’s Spring Fling and I’m very grateful to you for making that possible.”

  “You’re…” He looked completely taken aback at her transformation. “Wait, really?”

  She laughed. “Really, Daniel.”

  “Wow.” He grinned, put his arms around her, nearly making her swoon with how wonderful his body felt against hers. Where it belonged. “Turns out I’m going to this party you’re catering.”

  “Yeah?” She slid her arms around his neck, leaning back to beam into his dear, wonderful, handsome and highly sexy face. “Who with?”

  “This incredibly hot woman I’ve fallen for. Pretty hard.”

  “Oh.” The smile faded from her face as happy tears fought to replace it. “Is she worthy of you?”

  He nodded somberly. “More than worthy. Super-worthy.”

  “I’m glad.” She shifted her pelvis deliberately back and forth, feeling a deliciously firm and quick response from his…pants. “You’re in good company, because I’ve fallen, too.”

  “Really.” His tone stayed light, but his arms tightened around her. “Someone I know?”

  “Better than anyone.”

  Their kiss was long, deep, and so full of passion that their bodies could only follow. In two minutes, Angela was naked, up on the kitchen table, legs spread wide, breathing hard as she watched her lover’s beautiful condom-covered erection slowly disappearing inside her.

  Oh, Daniel. He filled her body, he filled her heart, his thrusts took her up and up until she braced herself on the smooth wood.

  This was how it was supposed to be.

  Except for the chocolate cake crumbs smushing and slipping under her palms. And, ow, her tailbone jarring occasionally on the hard surface.

  Could they never get a break?

  “Angela.” Daniel made an inarticulate sound of frustration. “I want to be able to kiss you. I want room to do…everything.”

  “Yes. Yes.” She put her arms around his neck, wrapped her legs tight around his waist. He lifted her, carried her into the bedroom, tumbled her back on the bed, and then, yes, then he could make love to her slowly, in total comfort, kissing her mouth, her face, her shoulders, her breasts, as if every part of her was his to savor, to adore, to worship.

  She so liked that about him.

  For her part, her hands were never still, kneading and stroking the smooth firm muscle of his back, his shoulders, the enticing curve of his buttocks.

  And when the desire grew to where it couldn’t be contained anymore, she locked her feet around his calves and strained up against him, push and release, faster, harder, no longer afraid of losing control. They came together, eyes locked, breathlessly ecstatic both in body and heart.

  Then slowly, slowly, they came down together, and the love and tenderness in Daniel’s eyes, the warmth and sweetness of his kisses, and Angela’s response to both were so powerful tears came.

  “Sweetheart.” He brushed them away, one side and then the other. “Can I cheer you up with a cupcake? Or I should say, the cupcake?”

  She laughed, still sniffling. She’d rather lie here and enjoy the afterglow a little longer, but Daniel was obviously proud of his hideous cupcake, and
she was touched that he’d gone through such outstanding difficulty making it for her. “I would love it.”

  He was gone two minutes, came back with both cupcakes on a tray, along with a couple of glasses of milk. “This isn’t dinner. I’ll take you out later. If you’re free.”

  “I’m free.” She traced the line of his shoulder, down to the fine long fingers handing her the plate. “Except I’m not, am I?”

  “No. You belong to me now.” He stroked hair off her face, a gesture she now recognized as his way of telling her he cared about her, wanted to protect her. “And vice versa.”

  “That makes me really, really happy.” She knew she was looking about as goopy as she’d ever looked, and didn’t care at all. She did belong to him. But also to herself.

  “Angela.” His voice got lower and a little shaky. “When I met you, I told you about a promise I made to Kate.”

  “Yes.” She grasped his arm, something solid to hang onto in case she needed it. He was looking awfully serious.

  “I’d like to make one to you, one that comes from a free heart, and from love that is very, very new, but which feels as old as I am.”

  Love. Angela held her breath.

  “Could you try some cupcake now?”

  Huh? Now?

  “Ummm, sure.” Angela looked down at the chocolate disaster on the saucer. She lifted the cupcake, which promptly disintegrated through her fingers.

  And left something in her hand. Something hard. And round.

  “What—” She caught her breath. White metal, two entwining loops, and a tiny diamond protecting the spot they joined.

  A promise ring. “Oh, Daniel.”

  “I know this is soon. I know we have plenty of getting to know each other to do still, but this feels very right to me already. Will you wear it?” He smiled, blue eyes anxious, kissed her, then leaned his forehead against hers. “If you do, you won’t have to eat that cupcake.”

  Angela laughed, tears cascading from her eyes, and slipped the ring on her finger, where it settled as if it had always belonged there. “It’s beautiful. I will wear it proudly.”

  He said her name reverently, pulled her onto his lap and kissed her over and over until they clung, breathless and smiling like fools. “I knew after our first kiss, Angela.”

  “The one in the rain that freaked us both out?”

  “That one.” Daniel grinned, brought her ringed hand to his mouth.

  “I was gone after that, too.” She stroked his hair, his firm jaw. Everything about this man was beautiful to her. “But I’m not freaking anymore.”

  “We’re going to be really good together, Angela,” he whispered. “All I ask is that you let me know what you’re feeling and what you need.”

  “I will, if you’ll do the same.” She touched his cheek, wistful for the time she’d wasted trying to convince herself she hadn’t fallen in love, when it was so obvious for so long that she had. After just one kiss. “There is another thing I will ask you to promise.”

  “Yes. Go ahead.” He murmured the words into her hair.

  “That you leave the baking to me…” She shifted off his lap, drew his face down, tasting his lips with her tongue, stroking his chest then letting her hand wander lower to signal she was ready for round two if he was. And oh, goodness. He was. “But that together, we spend a whole lot of time…cooking.”

  “Mmm.” He got her drift immediately, lowered her to the mattress. “A wide variety of hot dishes?”

  She pursed her lips. “Smoking hot.”

  “Fancy, sophisticated cooking? Or ordinary, everyday?”

  She pretended to think this over. “We’ll experiment. And then do only what we have a real talent for.”

  “Hmm.” Daniel settled his hips between her legs, started a gentle rocking motion. “I don’t think that narrows it down much.”

  “Well, then…” Angela spread wider for him, let him see the joy and mischief in her eyes. “We’ll just have to keep doing it all.”

  * * * * *

  ISBN: 9781459225817

  Copyright © 2012 by Muna Shehadi Sill

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