Kiss Me, Sweetheart

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Kiss Me, Sweetheart Page 11

by Codi Gary


  Dustin grinned as he leaned back in his chair. All week he’d gone home and when he sat down at his computer, the words had just flowed. He’d sent in fifteen thousand words to David this morning and was surprised he’d read it that fast.

  “It’s not too reality TV?” Dustin asked.

  “Are you kidding me? The characters alone make me want to keep reading. I mean, that one bridesmaid, Rachel? Man, what a downer, but in the best way possible. The girl is just tragic and you know how readers love an underdog.”

  Dustin frowned at his description of Rylie’s character. He hadn’t meant to make Rylie seem like a drag. He’d thought he’d made her out to be kind, fiercely loyal, and tough.

  “Sorry, David, but what do you mean about Rachel?”

  “She’s like one of those quiet kids that gets bullied and eventually, they just explode. The way she kisses everyone’s ass so they will like her, come on, only people with no respect for themselves do that.”

  Dustin cleared his throat, trying to beat down the anger directed at David and himself. “Okay, well I’m glad you liked them, but I think I’m going to rework them a bit. I’ll send you the edited versions with my next installment.”

  “Sure, sure, it’s your book and I can’t wait to read them. Have a great weekend, bud.”

  “You too.”

  Dustin ended the call with a groan. God, he didn’t want to go back and rework those pages, he just wanted to keep moving forward with the story.

  But he couldn’t shake the sound of David’s laughter at Rylie’s expense and he hated it. Even if it was the fictional character Rachel and only loosely based on Rylie, Dustin couldn’t do it.

  His phone rang again, and it was Rylie this time.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, so, what are you doing tonight?” she asked.

  “It depends on if what you’re going to ask me to do is boring or stupid.”

  “Ha. Ha,” she said. “I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me to check out Hickory Ridge.”

  “Hickory who?”

  “They are one of the bands Tonya asked us to check out. They are playing at The Pine Cove Tavern in Placerville at eight. Are you in?”

  Pages to fix or hitting a bar with Rylie. Tough choice.

  “I’m in. What time do they go on?”

  “Nine.”

  “I’ll grab you at eight.”

  * * * *

  Rylie wasn’t sure what to wear to check out a country rock band, but she figured jeans and a tank top that read, Boots, Dirt Roads, and Country Music would be okay.

  She sat in the passenger seat of Dustin’s car, twisting a curl from her pony tail around her finger. She still wasn’t sure why she asked him to come; he’d already told her that he wasn’t a big fan of hillbilly music. But she’d heard this band’s version of “Your Love Amazes Me,” which was Blake and Tonya’s song, and she had a really good feeling about them.

  Dustin parked across the street in the dirt parking lot, and they walked over to the wood building. There were some motorcycles parked outside and a few groups smoking out front and along the side. As they passed by a couple of bikers pulling in, someone let out a high-pitched wolf whistle.

  “Damn, baby, you got a mirror in those jeans because I can see myself in them from here!”

  Rylie didn’t even bother turning around, because if they were talking to her, she might be tempted to flip them the bird and if they weren’t, well, she’d be just a tad bit embarrassed for assuming.

  Dustin put his hand on her back to guide her through the doors. The bouncer in the opening gave them the nod and Rylie found herself hit with a cloud of stale cigarettes, booze, and perfume. She wrinkled her nose just as Dustin leaned over to say loudly, “That’s a pretty unique aroma they’ve got going on.”

  Rylie laughed. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  “Want a drink?” Dustin asked.

  “Yeah, but I’ll come with you. There is no way I want to be left alone in this place.”

  “You afraid the big bad wolf will get you?”

  “More like I’m afraid I’ll take a barstool and break it over the wolf’s head.”

  Rylie could hear Dustin chuckling over the music of the current band as he led her over to the bar. They still had twenty minutes until Hickory Ridge started, but Rylie wasn’t sure she could stand the lead singer’s caterwauling another moment.

  “What are you drinking?” the bartender asked.

  “I’ll have a Heineken. Rylie?”

  Rylie really wasn’t interested in drinking ever again, but she hated beer almost as much as wine. “I’ll take a Mai Tai, please.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Rylie turned and leaned back against the bar, watching the band. “They really are terrible, aren’t they?”

  Dustin leaned close, probably so she could hear him better. “I’d rather listen to a man screaming while having his balls removed without anesthetic.”

  Rylie choked on a laugh. “Geez, that’s a bit graphic, don’t you think?”

  He shrugged, and it suddenly occurred to her he was wearing a Hurley T-shirt and jeans. She was about to say something about his casual dress when the bartender came back with their drinks.

  Once they had moved back into the crowd, Dustin asked, “Would you rather move closer to the stage?”

  “Not right now.”

  Rylie took a sip of her fruity drink just as a couple of guys bumped into her, knocking her back into Dustin, who caught her with his hands on her hips. Her drink sloshed over the edge onto the floor and she cursed.

  “You okay?” Dustin asked, his warm breath on the side of her neck.

  She stilled at his proximity, her whole body turning to Jello as she realized his hands were still spread on her hips. “Yeah, just have sticky drink all over my hand.”

  Dustin let her go just as the two dumbasses almost backed into her again. “Hey!”

  The one with blond hair and gages in his ears smiled apologetically. “Whoa, sorry about that, sweetie. It’s a little crowded in here.”

  “Yeah, I know, but you should be more careful.”

  His friend, who was wearing one of those loose-fitting beanies over his long brown hair nodded. “You’re right. We’re a little drunk, but we should watch where we’re going.” He held his hand out to her. “I’m Eric, and you are?”

  She switched her drink to her dry hand and gave him her wet, sticky one. “Rylie. And this is…”

  Rylie turned to introduce Dustin but he had disappeared.

  Gages nodded toward the bar. “If you’re looking for your friend, he’s over at the bar making friends.”

  Rylie followed where he was looking and spotted Dustin chatting up a tiny blond in a red halter top that showed off abs that she’d only seen in fitness videos.

  When he laughed at something the other woman said, Rylie politely excused herself, and made her way over to stand next to Dustin.

  “Dustin? I thought that was you!” she squealed. “How is it going? Say, did you ever manage to get that thing fixed?”

  Rylie could tell blondie was hanging on her every word when Dustin asked, “What fixed?”

  “You know. Your micro penis,” she whispered loudly. She addressed the other woman now with a sympathetic tone. “Poor thing has lived his whole life with this itty-bitty weenie.”

  When she held up her pinkie to elaborate, Dustin grabbed her hand and yanked her away.

  Rylie had no idea what had come over her, but seeing him laugh at another woman’s joke had rubbed her wrong.

  They’d just entered the middle of the crowd when the band stopped and a man came out on stage. “Thanks, Electric Thunder. And now, please give a warm welcome to Hickory Ridge.”

  Rylie would have clapped, but it was a little hard with her dri
nk in her one hand and Dustin’s fingers wrapped around her wrist. She stared up into his glittering blue eyes and swallowed. She didn’t expect him to get so mad.

  “Here come the guys we’ve been waiting for,” she said weakly.

  “Where do you get off?” he asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  He let go of her wrist. “I left you with two guys salivating over you and didn’t say one thing. Some girl comes on to me and you announce to the whole bar that I have a tiny dick?”

  “It’s a micro penis, which is a legitimate, medical condition—”

  “Yeah, only I don’t have it. So what in the hell made you think it was a good idea to tell a complete stranger I did?”

  The band started playing a slow song and all the people around them started coupling up. The two of them stood there, a foot apart, not moving or speaking.

  When a guy nearby started to ask her to dance, Dustin snarled at him, “Back off, we’re talking.”

  Rylie took his hand and dragged him a few feet away, afraid the other man might take offense to his temper.

  “I’m really sorry I embarrassed you. I don’t even know why I did it, except I didn’t want you to ditch me and leave me here. In case you haven’t noticed, this place is kind of a meat market.”

  “I wouldn’t have left you here, all right? As far as I’m concerned, this is a work thing and if we came together, we’re going to leave together.”

  Rylie gave him a tentative smile, but his scowl didn’t ease, so she tried a different approach. Sinking to his level.

  “I said I was sorry. Besides, you and I both know that you don’t have a small…thing, so why do you care if some random chick you’re never going to see again thinks you do?” Downing half her drink, she added, “If it makes you feel better, I will go chat up some random dude and you can tell him that I stuff my bra.”

  Dustin’s gaze shifted down. “No one would believe that.”

  “That I’m lousy in bed?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want to get even. I know why you did it.”

  “And why is that?”

  Dustin took her drink and set it on one of the tables. “Because you didn’t want to have to share your dance partner.”

  Before she could get her bearings, Dustin was twirling her into his arms and dancing her out onto the floor.

  “What are you doing?” she laughed.

  “If we’re going to listen to some shitty band, we might as well have some fun while we’re doing it.”

  Rylie didn’t argue, especially when she liked being in Dustin’s arms more than she should have.

  Chapter 14

  Dustin realized two Saturdays later during his morning run that he hadn’t had sex since Paula, which had been the longest he’d gone without in years. Most of his sex partners knew his stance on relationships and didn’t mind, so the number of partners he’d had wasn’t as extensive as most people suspected. But it was strange that he hadn’t even thought about it.

  Correction, he’d thought about it, non-stop. Just not with some faceless girl.

  With Rylie.

  He pumped his arms as the house came into sight and he picked up his pace. Working with Rylie lately had been good. No awkwardness or snark. He’d even managed to behave and keep most of his sexual innuendos to a minimum. Tonya had taken their suggestions to heart and called Kelly to thank her for assigning them to her wedding. Rylie had been so excited she’d thrown herself into Dustin’s arms and hugged him tight.

  Of course, she’d pulled away as soon as she realized what she’d done, but he’d played it off as no big deal. Only he could still feel the squish of her breasts against his chest, her hot breath on the side of his neck…

  Get a grip, Dustin. That is a dead-end road.

  He had to admit that they made a pretty good team. They’d gotten every major detail for Tonya Rolland’s wedding hashed out, including the band. It was the fastest a wedding had ever come together, and Kelly had given them each a bonus for their hard work.

  Still, despite how well they were getting along, Rylie avoided him at home. He’d invited her to join him for meals, but she would tell him she was fine. He didn’t know if she was afraid to be alone with him in a place that wasn’t work, or if she had just been faking it, pretending to enjoy his company, but he was getting a little tired of her rejecting his edible overtures.

  He came through the door, sweat pouring down his face and back. He had almost made it to the front step, but Victoria caught him.

  “Oh, Mr. Kent! Can you please do something for me?”

  Dustin walked into the kitchen, where Victoria was busy in front of the stove.

  “What’s up, Victoria?”

  “Will you mind walking that package down for Rylie? It came yesterday, and I forgot to give it to her. I think it’s her date outfit.”

  Dustin picked up the brown box, scowling down at the label. “Date outfit?”

  Victoria covered her mouth with one hand, looking horrified. “Whoops! She asked me not to say anything. And I swore I’d take it to my grave, but it slipped my mind. You just forget what I said, Mr. Kent. You know how much I hate to gossip. Pretend you never heard that.”

  Like hell I will.

  “Who’s the guy?” he asked, trying for casual even as his fingers dug into the sides of the box.

  “Now, what did I just say? I am not about to gossip about Rylie’s date.” Victoria shot him a sly glance. “But I think he’s from Pleasant Valley.”

  Dustin snorted. So, she treated him like a leper, but said yes to some rando from PV? Who was the guy?

  It’s none of my business.

  “If she wants the box, she can come up here and get it. I’m not FedEx.”

  He started to put the package down, but Victoria thrust her spatula so hard in his direction that eggs flew off the end and smacked him in the cheek.

  “Where are your manners? She is your guest and she is going through a rough time. This date is the first thing she has been excited about since she got here, and I am glad for it. So, hop to it or you can cook your own meals.”

  “Actually, she pays rent, so technically, she’s a tenant.” Dustin quirked his eyebrow at her. “And you do realize you work for me, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that I can fire you?”

  She snorted as she turned back to his breakfast. “Ha, but then you would have to train someone else to your likes and dislikes and that annoys you.”

  She had him there.

  “Also, you love me,” she said.

  Dustin didn’t say those words to anyone, but of the handful of people he was fond of, Victoria was one of them.

  “Fine, I’ll take it to her.”

  “That’s a good boy.”

  He shut the door on her praise and jogged down the steps to the pool house. He had to knock on the door several times before Rylie finally came stumbling into view and he grinned. He probably shouldn’t tell her that she moved like a zombie off The Walking Dead before she had her caffeine fix. She tended to be a bit cranky in the mornings.

  It took two tries for her to get the door open, but when she did, she looked at him with one squinted eye.

  “You know it’s my day off.”

  His gaze passed over the messy hair, threadbare T-shirt with a kitty on it, and her little plaid pajama shorts. “I do.”

  “Then, for the love of frosting, why are you knocking on the door at seven forty in the morning?”

  He held up the box and shook it at her. “Victoria said you might want this.”

  Suddenly, she was awake and reaching for it. “Give me.”

  He held it out of reach. “What’s in it?”

  She hesitated half a second before her chin jutted up. “A dress and shoes.”

  “I helped you pack a
nd move. You have plenty of dresses and shoes.”

  “A woman can never have enough dresses or shoes.” Apparently, she got tired of jumping for it and just groaned with her arms out. “Will you please just give them to me?”

  “Depends. Are you going to model for me?”

  “No.”

  “You’re no fun.” He passed her the box, watching her hold it to her chest like a precious treasure. “What’s the occasion?”

  Her expression turned wary, and he thought she was going to lie to him.

  “I… I have a date tonight.”

  “You do? Who is the lucky guy?”

  “Just a guy. You don’t know him.”

  “Oh, you never know. I know a lot of people.”

  “Not this one.”

  Hmmm, he was curious why she was so convinced. “How’d you meet him?”

  “Oh, God, you aren’t going away, are you?”

  “Nope.” He stepped into the pool house before she could stop him. “Want me to put on some coffee so you’re at least awake for my interrogation?”

  “There isn’t going to be an interrogation and why are you shirtless? And all wet and drippy?”

  “I went for a run.”

  Rylie gripped her nose, her eyes twinkling. “Did you put on deodorant first?”

  “Are you saying I stink?”

  “Um, yeah.”

  He lifted his arm and sniffed. “I do not.” When she broke into giggles, his face split into a wicked grin. “So, you got jokes, huh?”

  He grabbed her before she could escape and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing his sweaty body and hair all over her, wherever he could reach. She screamed, squealed, and laughed, sometimes all at once, until he was so weak with mirth that he let her escape. She wiped at her face with her hand, and then grabbed a towel from the counter before rubbing it everywhere.

  “You’re such a jerk.”

  “Oh come on, admit it. You like my sweat.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He caged her in against the kitchen counter, his voice lowering. “Actually, I don’t just think you like it. I think that you love it.”

  “You’re insane. If I had a weird fetish, it would not be having your sweat rubbed all over me.”

 

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