Don't Break This Kiss (Top Shelf Romance Book 5)

by Jessica Hawkins

  Now, it was a piece of time I was going to hold on to forever.

  “Good morning, gorgeous,” I said, holding my cell to my ear.

  “Mmm,” she yawned. “It’s so early in LA, and you don’t sound groggy at all.”

  I ground my teeth together and got up from my desk to walk over to the window. “I’ve been up for hours. You know I can’t sleep when I’m away from you.”

  “I didn’t sleep well either. Maybe it’s just nervous energy about today. I don’t know.”

  I pressed my palm against the cold glass and looked out across the city. “Talk to me about it.”

  “It’s just a long, hard buildup and then a lot of emotions that follow. It’s not this way every time I come home, but this weekend is the same every year.”

  I balled my hand into a fist and pressed my knuckles against the window. I wouldn’t let my mind go there. I wouldn’t let it process what she was talking about. I couldn’t. Or this phone call would go a very different way.

  “I hate that you’re hurting, Billie.”

  “You calm me. I know that sounds foolish, but I could really use some of that right now.”

  “I’m here.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  I shut my eyes and kept them closed, my teeth gnawing on my bottom lip.

  And just when the silence really started to swell, she added, “I didn’t say that to make you feel bad. I said it because I honestly wish you were here. I need you. So badly right now.”

  “Billie—”

  “Don’t worry; I’ll be fine.”

  If I could, I would have pounded my fucking head into the glass until the entire window shattered. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.”

  I could feel her pain in the air.

  I had to say something. I had to somehow make this better.

  “Hey …” My eyes opened, and I gazed at the buildings across from me. I didn’t blink. My heart was screaming. If there were a tear in this body, I would have shed it. “I love you.”

  I heard her take a breath. I swore, I could even hear her eyes close.

  “I love you, too.”

  I wanted to be there with her even if it was impossible.

  Everything about this situation was fucking impossible.

  But I loved her.

  I couldn’t help it.

  “I’m here if you need me. All right?”

  “I know.” Her voice changed. “I was just telling my father how amazing you are.” She took a breath, and I could hear her try to smile. “He’s really excited to meet the man who’s made me this happy.”

  My hand flattened against the window. “I’m looking forward to meeting him …” I felt a pain shoot through my jaw as it tightened, and I ground the top of my knuckles into the window. My chest was about to fucking explode. “I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

  “Bye,” she said before I dropped my phone into my pocket.

  In some ways, I wished I were back on Flight 88.

  At least in the air, I was only worried about her survival. I wasn’t worried about destroying her fucking heart.

  Honey

  Fall 1987

  “I can’t pick one,” Honey squealed as Andrew tickled her from the floor of their living room. “You have to make the decision.” His hands moved up her sides, and with each shift, she screamed louder. “I refuse.”

  “Then, I’ll just keep tickling you.”

  “Nooo.”

  Even though she was laughing through tears and squirming all over their throw rug, she didn’t want him to stop. That was why she didn’t tell him the movie she really wanted to watch when it was her turn to choose—the point that had started the tickle war in the first place. Because once Andrew got that answer, he would put the movie on, and Honey was enjoying his attention far too much for that to happen right now.

  “Which one?” he said, his lips so close that she could taste the wine on them.

  The same flavor was on her tongue from the bottle she’d opened earlier. It was part of the spread she had set up, an afternoon picnic on the floor of their condo with blankets and pillows while they watched movies and were lazy all day. Except now that the credits for Rocky IV had just finished rolling, it was time to make a decision.

  “Ahhh!” Honey shrieked as his hands ground into her, upping the speed to make her howl the loudest it had been.

  “Say it.”

  “You’re going to hate it,” she cried, not able to hold him off any longer.

  His hands softened, the smile staying on his face. “Try me.”

  “It’s between two—St. Elmo’s Fire or Footloose.”

  Andrew stayed close to his wife, holding her rather than tickling, his hands never leaving. “Footloose.” He nuzzled his nose across the tip of hers. “Because you’d rather see that one over the other.”

  She’d only have to walk over to the TV, lift the VHS tape off the shelf underneath it, and insert the movie into the VCR once the previous movie was out. But instead, she put her hands on Andrew’s face and pulled him in for a long, deep kiss.

  His fingers were just starting to tug at her waist when the phone rang.

  Andrew and Honey had a rule that no matter what time a call came in, they always answered it just in case it was the hospital. So, Andrew reluctantly pulled his mouth off of Honey and went into the kitchen where the phone was located.

  “Hello?” Honey heard him say into the receiver.

  She watched her husband’s face as he listened to whoever was speaking, and after a few seconds, he said, “Hi, Stephanie. It’s no problem. We’re not busy right now.”

  With her eyes locked on Andrew, Honey tried to think of all the women she knew named Stephanie, and it only made sense for one of them to be on the phone.

  Our attorney? Honey mouthed.

  When Andrew nodded, she rushed off the floor and hurried into the kitchen, standing next to him while he held the phone away from his ear so the both of them could hear.

  “I don’t mean to bother you on the weekend,” Stephanie said, “but I have some exciting news that I think will excuse my interruption, and I really want to give it to you right away.”

  Honey’s hand went over her mouth, holding in the nerves that were now exploding in her stomach.

  “Honey’s here,” Andrew said into the phone, “and we’re ready to hear whatever it is you have to say.”

  Honey swore, she had to wait several minutes before the attorney spoke again.

  But when she did, she said, “I’ve found you a baby to adopt.”

  She stared at her husband in disbelief. They had only met with Stephanie a few months ago, a recommendation from one of the other doctors at the hospital who had heard of her through a sibling. Since her office was in New York, they had taken the day off from work and driven the six hours south to see her.

  Stephanie had warned the couple it could take months, possibly up to two years, before she found them a child. She wanted them to set realistic expectations, so when Honey and Andrew left that meeting, they had a lengthy timeline in mind.

  Never had they imagined it would happen this soon.

  “The information I can tell you so far is that the mother lives in New Hampshire. She’s seventeen years old, approximately eighteen weeks along. I’ve spoken to her and the father multiple times, and they’re both in agreement to give up their parental rights.”

  Andrew reached for Honey’s hand, and she squeezed back.

  “I know there are questions I should be asking you,” he said to Stephanie, “but I didn’t expect you to call, and I don’t have anything prepared.”

  “I understand,” she replied. “News like this can be extremely overwhelming, and it will continue to be so throughout the adoption process. This is the most emotional thing you’ll ever experience in your life.”

  Honey couldn’t stop the tears. She didn’t even try. The hope she was feeling in her heart was consuming her in a way where she felt like
she could finally breathe.

  Andrew had promised her a child. He’d never stopped believing.

  And now, it was coming true.

  “We’re ready for it,” Honey responded, her voice soft but clear.

  “Would you be available to come in next week?” Stephanie asked. “We’ll need to start the paperwork as soon as possible.”

  Andrew checked the calendar Honey kept in the kitchen, which listed both of their work schedules and all of the events they had to attend for the hospital.

  He pointed to a date, and when Honey nodded, he said, “How’s Thursday?”

  “That works.”

  They agreed on a time, and once they hung up, Andrew’s hands were on his wife’s cheeks, tilting them up to look at him.

  “We’re getting a baby,” she said, the joy spreading over her face.

  Honey clutched his chest, consumed by the most intense love for him and the thought of this baby they were going to raise together.

  “This is it,” he said. “I can feel it.”

  All Honey could do was nod.

  Because in her gut, she felt the same thing.

  Billie

  Today was the hardest day of the year. We all had one—a memory from a certain period in our life that we revisited when the anniversary approached.

  Mine wasn’t exactly a memory. It was a little more complicated than that, but the date was May 20. And every year, I’d return home to spend it with my family where we celebrated with laughter and food and booze.

  Food was how we communicated after all. The way we showed our love for each other. Food was what hugged back and listened when no one understood our pain.

  There would be music playing and lights strung across the porch, buckets of ice-cold beer all over the backyard.

  It would be a party, and that was the way it should be.

  And that was the reason I wanted Jared here—to celebrate with my family, to finally meet them.

  He had to work, and that was a reasonable excuse. It just didn’t make today any easier.

  Because, despite it being a celebration, today was my struggle.

  The party was scheduled to start tonight at six. Speakers had been stationed around the shrubs, platters of food were waiting in the fridge, and cases of beer and alcohol were taking up a third of the garage.

  Everything was in place.

  It just wasn’t time.

  Now that we were all back in the house together and everyone was hanging around downstairs, I headed upstairs for a moment of quiet. Still wearing my black dress from earlier, I walked to my old room, but when I got to the door, I didn’t stop. I continued down the hallway to my parents’ bedroom.

  I paused for a second in their doorway, taking a breath, and then I sat on my mother’s side of the mattress.

  This was the first time I had come in here since returning to Portland a few days ago.

  It wasn’t a place I avoided. I’d spent many nights of my childhood in this bed.

  But on May 20, it was a hard place to be.

  I leaned forward, grabbing the framed photo off the nightstand, holding it between my hands. It was a picture of my parents on their wedding day. My mother wore a casual white dress, and Dad was in a black suit.

  They were so incredibly beautiful together.

  I held the frame against my chest, and I closed my eyes as I tried to remember every detail he’d ever told me.

  Honey

  Winter 1988

  Honey stood at the sink in their bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. The girl looking back at her was far different than the one who had stood here when she first moved in with Andrew. She was even different than the girl who had gripped the ledge of this sink six months ago.

  Everything in her life had changed.

  Honey glanced down at the engagement ring and wedding band that hugged the finger on the left hand. When she’d said her vows, she’d had no idea the ride she was about to take with Andrew, the experiences they were going to live through.

  How naive of her to think things were going to be simple.

  Even now, as she looked into her eyes, she saw the most complex situation of her entire life.

  She reached for her toothbrush, swiped some paste over the bristles, and began brushing her teeth. Once she rinsed out her mouth, she squirted some cleanser into her palm and scrubbed her face.

  When she was clean and feeling a little better, she went into the bedroom where Andrew was sleeping and climbed in next to him. She rested her face against his shoulder, taking in his warmth, tickling her nails up and down his arm in a way he loved.

  “Don’t stop,” he groaned when she slowed at his wrist.

  She could feel the goose bumps on his skin, and that made her smile as she scratched his chest, more bumps growing as she trickled down his stomach and then back to his hand.

  “We have so much to do today,” she reminded him since it was time they both got up.

  “Just a few more minutes.” He held his arm out across her body, so she would tickle to his fingertips and then as high as his armpit.

  He was so easy to please. If she brought him a cup of coffee, he would be smiling all day.

  She had something even better to give him.

  “Andrew, we have to go crib shopping.”

  His face was covered with a pillow, but the white fluff moved when he turned his neck. “You don’t like the one we bought?”

  She sat up, crossing her legs over the bed, still rubbing her nails on his arm. “I love that one.”

  “Then, why would we shop for a different one?”

  Their eyes slowly connected as he pulled the pillow away, and she said, “Not a different one, Andrew. A second one.”

  “Honey …”

  “Go look in the bathroom.”

  He hurried out of bed, and Honey watched him disappear through the door. She knew he was going over to the counter where she had left a pregnancy test, picking it up in his hands to read the results on the window screen.

  Smiling at the plus sign that was directly in the middle.

  Honey had known weeks before that she was pregnant. She’d already missed her period twice. She just couldn’t handle seeing the results yet, so she’d put it off until she couldn’t any longer.

  When her husband appeared again in the doorway, hair tousled from sleep, marks on his face from the sheet, he said, “Baby …” so softly.

  Honey’s eyes were already welling with tears, pausing at the edges before rolling like fat barrels down the hills of her cheeks.

  She nodded at him, and it was the best feeling.

  Andrew moved so fast that she barely saw him come onto the bed, but she was instantly in his arms, and he was holding her against his chest. The warmth of his skin was like a blanket, enveloping her into this safe, protected nest.

  “Oh, Honey …”

  “This time feels different,” she admitted.

  She hadn’t been sure if she should say that out loud. She certainly didn’t want to jinx anything. But what she had voiced was true. The things she had felt over the last couple of months were unlike the previous time she had been pregnant.

  One of his hands dropped down her body and stopped when it reached her stomach. His fingers spread wide, and so very gently, he rubbed small, baby circles across her navel. “Honey …” he said so softly.

  She tilted her head to look in his eyes. “I didn’t think this was ever going to happen.”

  “I did.” Andrew’s expression softened as he squeezed her tighter. “And I believe it’s all going to be okay. It’s just something I feel in my heart.”

  Honey didn’t know if she would carry their child to full-term. She didn’t know if the birth mother would change her mind on the adoption at the very last minute. She had so many questions and no answers to anything.

  But one thing was very clear in her mind.

  “I believe in you,” she said.

  Billie

  I placed my
parents’ wedding photo back on the nightstand, making sure it was in the same spot it had been in before. Then, I stood, slowly making my way down the hallway. I passed my old room again and reached the landing, this time turning in the opposite direction, heading toward my father’s office at the end of the hall.

  Where some men came home after work and relaxed in their dens, my father went to his office. Everyone knew, if he was home, that was where you could find him. It was the only space in our house where he could really unplug even though he was still working when he was in there. It also happened to be where I had spent most of my time as a child.

  Covering the walls in here were pictures from the trips we had taken over the years. We had gone skiing and hiking, on cruises and to Disney World. We’d traveled all over the world. In almost every one of the photographs, there was some type of food in our hands. Tacos in Mexico. Conch chowder in Key West. Gelato in Rome. Falafel in Tel Aviv.

  With each picture came a memory, one after the other, building the foundation of what I had turned into a career.

  And all of it was because of my father.

  He had taught me everything I knew about food. How to cook it, how to use my tongue to find the missing ingredients, how to really appreciate all the different flavors.

  I owed my palate to him.

  I was so close to getting it all back. I just wasn’t there yet.

  I continued to make my way around his office, my eyes roaming over the timeline of snapshots, the different hairstyles and outfits I’d rocked over the years. I ended at the closet in the far corner of his room, and something made me open the narrow door and pull the string to turn on the overhead light.

  My father had converted the closet into storage, building shelves on all three of the walls. Once I was inside, I immediately went to the left, picking up the large plastic crate on the bottom. The lid was worn because it had been opened and closed hundreds of times over the years.

  I brought the bin over to Dad’s desk and placed it on top, sitting in his large leather chair. I normally went through the contents during the last day of my trip, never on May 20.