Kisses Between the Lines: An Echo Ridge Anthology (Echo Ridge Romance Book 2)

by Lucy McConnell

  If he did, he masked it by clearing his throat. “Are you ready?”

  As ever! “Yep.” She threw a chunky scarf around her neck to ward off the fall chill and waved goodbye to Andrea.

  He bounced his keys in his hand. “Just to be on the safe side, I did an online search for the book but didn’t see what Marian was looking for. The ones I did find, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure would work, and they were expensive, so I didn’t order them.”

  “Sounds like you had a busy day of procrastination,” Jennifer teased as they climbed in the car. Andrea suggested she show Kirke what he was missing out on, to leave a lasting impression for when Bay arrived. She wouldn’t bring up Bay unless he did, and she’d do everything in her power to steer the conversation far away from the starlet.

  Kirke pulled into traffic. “I do not procrastinate. I’m a professional.”

  “Which means …?”

  “Which means I don’t have the luxury of waiting for my muse to appear. I have to put my butt in that chair and get to work, inspiration or no inspiration.”

  She glanced in his back seat and saw his helmet. “Or in your case, butt to bike?”

  His cheeks, what she could see of them over his trimmed beard, flushed.

  Laughing, she shook her head. “Busted.”

  “I made slow and aggravating progress today— for about an hour,” he admitted sheepishly.

  She chuckled. They pulled into a spot in front of Second Chances and made quick work of scanning the shelves, only to come up empty-handed.

  Eddie, the owner, wandered over and asked what they were looking for. Kirke explained their assignment, and he nodded. “I’ve had quite a few people come through here. Some books I have, others I don’t. What you see is what I’ve got.”

  “Thanks,” said Jennifer as he headed back to the sales counter.

  Kirke delved into an online search again while Jennifer checked out the other books on display.

  “Maybe we could bring her a copy of something else?” Kirke asked hopefully. “If she likes it, make sure I get credit.”

  “Throwing me to the sharks? Some friend you are.”

  Kirke winked, turning Jennifer’s thoughts to cotton candy. He reached out and brushed back a stray piece of hair. “It was stuck to your lips,” he said in a low tone.

  “Hmmm,” was the only sound Jennifer could produce. His fingers had felt like a caress, igniting a slow burn in her stomach and crackling across her skin.

  Kirke stepped back, which allowed the golden evening sun slanting through the front windows to warm her face. Blinking, Jennifer grasped for their thread of conversation. “There’s nothing I’d dare offer up in place of our assigned title.”

  “What about that new antique shop?” Kirke jerked his chin in the general direction of Echo Ridge’s latest venture.

  “I don’t think it’s open yet.”

  “Well, there’s a few more sites I want to look at. Let’s walk around the lake.” Kirke offered his elbow. “Here, you steer while I browse.”

  Jennifer hesitated. Walking arm in arm seemed so intimate. She had held hands with a few guys, and kissed even fewer, but none of them had wanted to take the poor trailer park girl home to meet their mom. Kirke’s open acceptance of her was one of the things she loved about him. He saw her. Not her past. Not her parents. Just her. And she always felt like enough, never lacking in his eyes.

  To protect herself from heartache, she’d kept men at arm’s length. Except for Kirke. That almost kiss the other night, though in the least romantic location she could conjure up, had been the most romantic thing she’d ever experienced. There were plenty of romantic spots around Chickadee Lake. The Sweetheart Tree was an enchanted spot where couples had shared first kisses for generations. Perhaps she could steer Kirke that direction, and they’d be able to recapture the moment. She moved alongside him and took in the sedate waters of Chickadee Lake in an effort to calm her speeding heart.

  Now that the weather was cooler, the geese had flown south, leaving the welcome quiet atmosphere of a room after a party. Yellowing grass crunched under their feet until they found the walking path, and the golden and rust-colored leaves twirled through the air. The route meandered around the Sweetheart Tree and back to the water’s edge.

  “You seem content.” Kirke’s eyes didn’t leave his phone.

  Jennifer did a mental fist pump. The Brontë sister’s training had paid off if Kirke was unaware of her nerves. “Fall is my favorite season. The start of a new school year always held possibilities. People see it as a time when the world dies, but I like to think of it as taking a deep breath before jumping into extremes.”

  “Like the extreme cold of winter.”

  “Right. Followed by the extreme effort of spring and the extreme heat of summer.”

  Kirke’s gaze left his phone and searched her face, almost as if he were seeing it for the first time. “You’re different tonight.”

  Jennifer’s heart leapt. She was different. She was taking risks, albeit small ones, but ones she hoped would lead to bigger and better things. She tucked her hair behind her ear before finally making eye contact. “I am?” She wanted to hear him identify the cause, to hear him say that she was bolder, stronger, more beautiful. That she was all the things he’d been looking for in a woman and never found. She had to hear the words before she could fall into his arms, and so she waited on bated breath.

  He considered her for a moment more before snapping his fingers. “You’re wearing different lipstick.”

  Jennifer swallowed her disappointment that he hadn’t found the right words and focused on the fact that he’d stared at her lips. Staring at lips was a wonderful precursor to exploring said lips. She mentally thanked Andrea for the lipstick.

  “I think I found what we’re looking for.” Kirke passed her his phone.

  Catching up to Kirke’s train of thought took a moment. Jennifer stared at the screen. Slowly, an ad for an estate sale in the next town over came into focus. They listed several collectible books, including The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Scrolling down, she checked the time. “I’m supposed to visit my mom on Saturday, but I could switch it to Sunday.”

  “That’d be great. I’m supposed to entertain Bay while she’s in town, but Saturday morning should work.”

  Jennifer’s blood ran cold, and she found herself holding Kirke’s arm awfully tight. He didn’t seem to mind, though. “How long is she in town?” she forced herself to ask. How long before this nightmare is over? With any luck, Bay would breeze in and breeze out just as she had last Christmas.

  Kirke shrugged. “Not sure. I’ll find out when she gets here.”

  “Great.” Just stinking great.

  All feelings of heat and desire fled like ducks at the sound of a rifle, leaving behind ripples of worry. Surely Kirke was aware of what was going on between them. The longer looks, the way they naturally gravitated towards one another, the smiles and laughter as prevalent as the falling leaves. But most difficult to ignore was the fascination they both had with the other’s lips. Not a minute would go by without one or the other of them noticing the other’s kisser. The tension built until it was all Jennifer could do not to grab him by the lapels and pull him down to explore the kiss to end all kisses.

  Reminding herself that the next move was Kirke’s, she barely made it home with her dignity intact. Falling against her bedroom door, she glared at Andrea.

  “What?” asked her roommate.

  “If that man doesn’t kiss me soon, I’m going to implode.”

  Andrea tipped her head back and laughed.

  “I’m glad someone’s getting enjoyment out of this.” Jennifer flopped on the bed.

  “Did you at least find the book?”

  “No.” Jennifer rolled her eyes. “We’re headed to an estate sale on Saturday.”

  “Good.”

  “Maybe I should just tell him he melts my butter.”

  Andrea snorted and shoved Jennife
r. “You’re crazy.”

  “I know. Juliet would have told him.”

  “And look what happened to her.”

  “I may be into the guy, but I’m not drinking poison for him.”

  “That’s a relief,” joked Andrea.

  Jennifer propped her chin on her fist. “Why does it all have to be so complicated?”

  Andrea patted her back. “It wouldn’t be a truly great love story if it weren’t.”

  “Girls like me don’t have great love stories,” muttered Jennifer. “Look at my mom: she’s spent her whole life in love with a man who was in love with every other woman on the planet except for her. What a waste.”

  “You’re not your mom, Jennifer.”

  Jennifer nodded, but deep down, the fear of turning out exactly like her mother churned.

  KIRKE PUT HIS HANDS in his jacket pocket and then pulled them out again. He brushed at his beard to make sure it wasn’t sticking up in any weird places. Any second now, those shiny elevator doors were going to open, and Bay Barington would glide out.

  He paced the hall, and his mind jumped from thought to thought. He wasn’t really popular in high school or college. He had a small group of friends and was happy, but he never really peaked. Which was probably a good thing, because he’d had time to grow into his talents and mature as they did. Therefore, he constantly felt like he was pushing himself to the next level. What he had, he’d earned. Even his relationship with Bay existed because he actively pursued her during her last visit.

  What Jennifer said about being on the edge of taking off in his career felt right. He just needed a little push.

  The elevator dinged and Kirke squared his shoulders. Bay’s bodyguard— Tyrell, if he remembered correctly— stepped out first. Jerking his chin, Tyrell gave the all clear, and then she was there and Kirke was dazzled. Literally dazzled by Bay’s sequined coat and the diamonds dripping from her ears, throat, and wrists. Like a human disco ball, she reflected light in all directions and burned Kirke’s corneas. He blinked several times before she got close enough for him to look at her face without his eyes watering.

  “Kirke, darling.” She air-kissed his cheek. “You look so cute in that blazer and scarf. So underdone and humble.”

  Kirke’s smile wavered. Was that a compliment? “Thanks?”

  Giggling, Bay slipped her arm around his waist and laid her head against him. Kirke’s senses were on overload. She was here. In his arms— well, arm. Smiling up at him with her perfect teeth and puffy lips. He looked closer. One side of her lip was a little bumpy. Strange. Maybe it was a birth defect and that’s why she always wore such dark lipstick. Jennifer didn’t wear dark lipstick. She liked lighter colors. Except for the other day, when she’d had on that pink stuff that kept drawing his eye.

  “I am ready to be dazzled by the sights of Echo Ridge in the fall.”

  Kirke shook off the image of Jennifer in her big scarf and kissable lips. “I have a fantastic day planned.” He tentatively put his arm around her shoulder. The move was bold, and yet he got the feeling Bay expected it. She was already attached to him, after all. He pulled out his keys.

  “We’ll take my town car— just tell Tyrell where to go.” Bay flicked her wrist towards her bodyguard. They crossed the lobby and exited the heavy doors. She climbed in the back seat of the Lincoln SUV and Kirke gave Tyrell instructions. Tyrell nodded without a word, and they were soon on their way up the winding road to Ruby Resort.

  A couple dozen people milled about the open grassy area at the bottom of the lift. Most of them had mountain bikes and body armor. A few were dressed to hike. No one was dressed like Bay. She drew attention, which didn’t seem to bother her in the least.

  “Do you spend much time up here?” she asked as they settled into their seat on the chairlift.

  “I try to come up at least once a week. It helps clear my head.”

  “That’s so important for an artist.”

  Kirke cleared his throat. “I’m a playwright.”

  “Right, but your plays are like art.” She threw her arms wide. “You’re giving a part of your soul to the universe.” Laying her hand on his arm, she continued, “The way you bare yourself to the world is so brave.”

  Bay obviously had different ideas of what writing was than what Kirke experienced on a daily basis. Lately, every sentence was a giant gummy worm he had to pull out of his brain.

  “I saw one of your plays last season and was moved deeply.” She placed her hand on her front, right below where her coat was unzipped and her chest almost spilled out.

  Kirke jerked his eyes back up to her uneven lips, hoping she hadn’t seen them drop in the first place. “Which play?”

  She fanned the air. “Modern Lovers or Romance in the Gym. Titles aren’t important.”

  “Modern Romance.” He’d sweated over that title for months.

  She pressed her chest against him, and her words took on a level of seduction. “What’s important is the way your words made me feel … and I felt something deep.”

  Kirke’s brain jumped off the chair and left him without a response.

  “You moved me, Kirke.” She breathed the words at him, intoning them with wanting that made Kirke’s face burn with shame— and he hadn’t done anything!

  Thankfully, they reached the top of the lift, and the operator waved to get their attention.

  “We’re here.” Kirke hurled his feet onto solid ground and they moved out of the way for the next chair. “Wait here. I just have to pick something up from the way station.”

  Bay nodded demurely. Stunned by her obvious interest in him, Kirke blinked twice before he figured out how to get his feet to move forward.

  Grinning wide enough to fill the valley below, Kirke’s steps were light. Bay wanted him. The Hollywood darling of reality television was doing all she could to get his attention. Boy was it working. Kirke’s pulse pounded as he worked through his next move.

  This was their official first date. He didn’t want to appear like the other guys she dated. The ones on the show always went in for the kiss— right off. Like they were marking their territory. Bay usually dumped them by the last commercial break and then ended the show in tears. The last episode had her wondering where all the good men had gone. Well, he’d rise above his hormones and show her there were still gentlemen in the world.

  Kirke retrieved the picnic from the way station. In his time on the mountain, he’d seen many people with the quintessential baskets and finally asked a couple where they bought them. Apparently the resort would furnish the baskets— for a fee. He gulped as the guy behind the counter swiped his card. A night out with Jennifer cost half what he was spending on cheese, crackers, and some cut-up fruit.

  Speaking of Jennifer, he wondered about their book-hunting last night. She’d hurried out of his car, barely throwing a goodbye over her shoulder before the door slammed. He’d stared after her, not only to make sure she got inside her apartment, but because his car was suddenly empty. Too empty. He’d wanted her to come back but couldn’t think up a good enough excuse.

  Outside the way station, Kirke jogged over to Bay. “Are you ready for a picnic?”

  “In a sec. Let’s take a picture.” She flipped her phone and snuggled up next to his chest. Kirke looked at the screen and only saw his jaw, jacket, and scarf before she took the picture.

  Did she just use me as a background?

  Bay tucked the phone into her pocket and took his fingers. Swinging their hands, she tugged him towards the trail. “I’m guessing you want to go get lost somewhere romantic.”

  He nodded. Confused that she would not want him in the picture and then be so friendly, he led the way to a small clearing and laid out the provided blanket. To the east was a drop-off that opened to a stunning panoramic view. Several natural clearings could be found farther up the trail, but this one was closest, and Bay’s heels made hiking a pipe dream.

  Maybe her strange photo was an effort to protect him from the re
porters that hounded her on her last visit. They probably followed her everywhere when she was at home. It was a blessing she’d been able to escape to Echo Ridge without half of California on her tail.

  “I think you’ll really like it up here. It’s quiet, and the view is incredible.” Kirke sat down and swept his arm out, indicating Echo Ridge laid out below them. Ruby Mountain had the ability to center Kirke in a way few other things could. The peace that grew with the large rocks and towering trees showed him how small he was in the grand scheme of things, and at the same time, the birds and darting chipmunks reminded him that he was never forgotten in God’s plan. He hoped some time up here would be good for Bay. That she’d decompress from her hectic filming schedule, get away from the unnatural lights, and see the world beyond the camera lens. Up here, they could feel like the only two people on earth.

  Tyrell cleared his throat and leaned his back against a tree, facing the direction they’d come. Kirke chuckled. Maybe not the only two … Tyrell’s presence made it hard to act casual and even harder to come up with something to say as he unpacked their lunch.

  “It is quiet.” Bay shivered. “Too quiet.” She pulled out her phone and started a playlist. A bass drum pounded, the sound tinny and annoying in the grand expanse that surrounded them. “Maybe that’s too loud.”

  Kirke sighed with relief, but Bay only turned the volume down and set the phone on the blanket next to her.

  “What are you working on now?” she asked.

  Kirke leaned back on his elbow, thankful she’d taken the lead. “A romantic comedy.”

  “Is there a part in there for me?”

  Tugging on his scarf, Kirke cleared his throat. “I don’t really have a say in casting.”

  Bay ran her finger over his knuckles. “I bet you could, if you wanted to.”

  Kirke watched her fingers do figure eights over the back of his hand, liking the soft tickle.

  “With a little confidence and a push in the right direction, I’ll bet you could have a lot of say in things.”

  “What direction?” Kirke asked absently.