Blame it on the Kiss

by Robin Bielman

  Bryce gave a small victory smile. He put the tape measure on a box marked “Roseville” in messy black marker and strode toward her. “Tell you what, keep the five and tell me about that.” He nodded toward the small square pillow sitting on the window ledge that Payton had made for her.

  Happy surprise filled her at his notice. She sighed. “It’s beautiful and awful at the same time, isn’t it?” A five year-old boy, hands caked with mud, sewed better than Payton.

  “Is that supposed to be a butterfly on there?” Bryce followed her toward the window.

  “Yes.” Honor picked up the unskillful gift she loved more than anything. “Payton made it for me.”

  “With her eyes closed?”

  “We both know she was about as artistic as a baboon.” She glanced up at him. “A really pretty baboon.” His blank expression threw the beat of her heart off for a second. Maybe he didn’t know that about her. “Anyway, I thought it should have a home here.”

  “The saying underneath the butterfly is familiar.”

  You’re my estate, it said. “It’s taken from Emily Dickinson. Her quote goes, ‘My friends are my estate.’ I’m surprised you recognized it.”

  “My sister is big on literature.”

  Honor nodded. She didn’t know he had a sister.

  “Payton told me you were the most important person in her life.”

  “Until she met you.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t think so. If she was as committed to me as I was to her, then I would have been with her until the end, too.”

  Bryce’s pained expression was like a hundred poison arrows to her heart. She knew he valued relationships. Payton had shared that he’d had several girlfriends before her. Nothing too serious, but he liked commitment. He didn’t do things halfway or without care. Another reason he was completely off limits to a girl like her.

  The only thing Honor had committed to was tying her Nike’s. And that was because she’d tripped over the damn laces one too many times when left undone.

  She had selfish bones she wasn’t proud of.

  Even if she wanted to get to know Bryce better, she couldn’t. She’d fail him, just like she did everything else, and she hated the thought of failing something so good.

  Lance flashed through her mind. Her high school boyfriend had wanted forever with her. A year behind him in school, they’d been together a year when his Senior Prom arrived. “I’ve got a very important question to ask you tonight,” he’d told her the morning of the big party. She’d silently freaked out. She was only seventeen and while she loved Lance in her own way, she didn’t love him the way he wanted. His proposal—she knew that was the question—loomed over her with a death grip on her chest all day and when the time came to go to prom with him, she couldn’t do it. She bailed and went for a drive down the coast with Bobby Gibbs. Bobby was only a friend, there to lend support, but her selfish action had hurt Lance. Rather than talk to him like she should have, she’d taken the coward’s way out.

  The next day Lance hurt himself.

  “You’re not a commitment kind of girl,” Lance said when she visited him in the hospital. “Deep down I knew that…you’re no good, Honor, not to anyone.”

  She’d nodded her agreement as he continued to insult her and then she’d left, hating herself and what she’d done.

  “Honor?” Bryce’s voice broke into her recollection and brought her back to the present.

  “I need to go,” she said, putting the pillow down and sidestepping around him. She hated hearing concern in his voice. Hated that he may have seen something on her face she didn’t want him to see. Eager to get out of his reach, she tripped over a broken floorboard and fell to her hands and knees. “Dammit.” Pain stung her kneecaps.

  Bryce’s warm touch wrapped around her arms. He lifted her up. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” She shrugged out of his hold, but the flash of comfort his gentle grasp elicited lingered. “Just have a ton of things to do today.” The first of which included putting as much space as possible between her and the man who stirred up way too many unwelcome emotions.

  …

  Honor’s unrestrained laugh drew Bryce’s attention for the tenth time. He couldn’t stop keeping track of everything she did. Meet his gaze from the other end of the L-shaped dining table? Four times. Twirl her finger in her hair? Five times. Smile at something the guy sitting next to her—Drew, Mark’s brother—said? One time too many.

  The sound of silverware striking a glass broke into his calculations and drew his attention. Zane stood up.

  His best friend cleared his throat. “Thank you all for being here tonight and this weekend.” A visible swallow made its way down Zane’s throat before he glanced down at his bride-to-be and took Sophie’s hand in his. “I never imagined I was good enough to find this kind of love and happiness, but somehow this amazing, beautiful woman decided I was worth something. She’s taught me so much these past six months and I think I’ve taught her a few things, too.” Sophie blushed. “For the rest of my life she’s stuck with me and every single day she’ll know what a gift she is.” Sophie stood, kissed his cheek, and whispered something in his ear.

  And no damn way. Zane’s cheeks actually reddened. Bryce smiled. Throw every adjective at his friend—infatuated, enamored, captivated, mad about, hot for—and Zane had it ten times worse.

  “Thanks for celebrating with us,” Zane said. “We’re both really happy to be surrounded by family and friends as we take this next step. Dinner dismissed.” With that he lifted Sophie into his arms and marched out of the private dining room to hoots and hollers.

  “Thought it would be you for sure,” Danny said from beside him.

  “What?”

  “The first of us to get married. It was supposed to be you. We all knew that. Then surf stud goes and surprises us.”

  “Want to get drunk?” Throwing back a few seemed like a good way to forget that yeah, Bryce had thought that, too.

  “Sounds good.”

  They wandered out of the room and headed straight for the bar of the restaurant. The Happy Harpoon had a definite happy vibe going on this evening with loud conversation at all the tables and a crowded bar. He and Danny snagged the last two barstools.

  “Two vodka tonics,” Bryce told the bartender.

  “I’ll have the same,” Danny said.

  Bryce shot his friend a puzzled look. “Dude.”

  “What? You said drunk didn’t you? I’m just saving us some time.” Something had been on Danny’s mind for a while now, their ordeal with that bastard of a client aside, but hell if he’d share it.

  Bryce would find out what it was eventually. Right now they didn’t need to talk. Just drink.

  The bartender deposited their order. “To Zane and Sophie.” Bryce lifted his glass and clinked tumblers with Danny. “To Zane and Sophie,” Danny echoed.

  At the other end of the curved bar Julia, Mark, Honor, and Drew took a spot just vacated.

  “When’s the meeting with Cooper?” Danny asked after a few sips. As business partners, Bryce acquired their clients and managed everything except the financial and legal facets of their athletes’ careers.

  “Next week. You know the guy’s unbelievable. And on top of his skill he’s got a good head on his shoulders. I think we’ll do right by him.”

  “He’s also Honor’s brother. That going to be a problem?”

  “No.”

  “You sure?” Danny shook his glass so the ice clinked. “They’re close.”

  “What makes you say that?” Bryce let his gaze drift casually down the bar. Drew had his arm draped across the back of Honor’s barstool and his body leaned toward hers.

  “It was pretty obvious last night. She’s protective. And she doesn’t want him going pro.”

  “That’s understandable given his accident. But we look out for our athletes.” He tightened the grip on his glass. Honor could trust them with her brother. The idea that she didn’t rankled. Did it
circle back to Payton mistrusting him?

  “Maybe we should let Coop go and focus on someone else.”

  Bryce stared at his friend. There wasn’t anyone else out there Bryce was even remotely interested in, and Danny knew it. After the shitstorm they’d been through the past year, they needed someone exactly like Cooper Mitchell. Young, good upbringing, positive attitude, a comeback kid, just like they were trying to be.

  “No.”

  Danny kept his eyes on his drink. “Okay. But if it looks like you can’t handle it, I’m putting a stop to it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Payton wrecked you man, and now you’re after her best friend’s brother. Seems to me Cooper might make life more difficult for you, not easier.”

  Bryce let that sink in before letting the burn of alcohol slide down his throat and his attention wander back to Honor. She had her arm propped up on the bar, her cheek in her hand and her focus on whatever Drew was saying.

  “I could sit in on the meeting.” Danny said.

  “Fine. I don’t want you worrying that pretty head of yours.”

  Danny glared at him.

  “Bye, Midge. Everything was great.” Above all the voices in the busy restaurant, Bryce heard Honor’s. He looked over his shoulder to see her hugging the owner of the establishment before walking out the door, Drew at her side.

  Bryce turned back around. He ignored his tense shoulder muscles and glanced down the bar to where Honor had sat. Something small and shiny gleamed atop the counter. She’d told him she hated carrying a purse, but it looked like tonight she’d brought one—and forgotten about it. He jumped to his feet.

  “Dude, I’ll be back in a few.”

  Bryce grabbed the purse before he could talk himself out of it and hurried out the door. The crisp night air slapped him in the cheeks, reminding him to slow his hasty steps so as not to seem too eager to catch up with her.

  A flash of yellow caught his eye from the sidewalk. Honor’s strapless dress clung to her torso before falling from her waist to her ankles in a soft, loose, almost sheer material. She looked like a goddess sent from the sun to shine on everyone. Drew lifted his arm and angled it toward the back of her shoulders.

  “Honor!”

  She twisted around. “Is everything okay?” Lines creased her forehead as she stepped toward him.

  “I think this is yours?” Bryce held up the silver bag.

  More than forgetfulness flashed in her pretty eyes. Relief did, too. She held his gaze like an invisible string had them hooked together. “Yep. That’s mine.” A small impish grin put a twinkle in her eye.

  “And Drew, Julia’s looking for you. It seemed pretty urgent.”

  “I just said good-bye to her.”

  Bryce shrugged.

  “It’s okay,” Honor said when Drew gazed at her with disappointment. “We can talk tomorrow.”

  “I’d like that.” Drew leaned forward in a move to kiss Honor’s cheek.

  Only Bryce’s arm and the small purse in his hand accidentally, but not really, blocked his attempt. “Sorry, dude. Your clutch, Honor.” Bryce held it up in front of her. He only knew the word ‘clutch’ because of his grandmother.

  Drew frowned and backed away.

  “Goodnight,” Honor called out. Then to him she said with a soft voice, “’Night,” before turning and walking down the sidewalk.

  He caught her elbow before she’d taken more than a few steps. “Are you walking home?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s,” he glanced at his watch, “nine o’clock.”

  She shrugged out of his hold and continued on her way. “The Boogeyman doesn’t come out until ten, so I’m good.” The humor in her voice made it impossible to let her go.

  “I still can’t let you walk home alone.” He matched her strides.

  “I thought we’d already established what a safe town I live in.” She spoke to the concrete, her head tipped down and away from him. He got the feeling she didn’t want him to see how much she liked his good manners.

  Not that manners had much to do with his walking her home. He pulled out his phone to text Danny he wouldn’t be back.

  “True, but my mom raised me better than to let Boogeyman Bait tempt fate.”

  She giggled and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “All right. But only because I don’t want to disappoint your mom.”

  He slipped off his sports coat and put it around her bare shoulders. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  The trip took about fifteen minutes. They didn’t talk, but the silence felt nice. He fought the urge to pick up her hand when their fingers brushed.

  “Here I am.” She stopped in front of a small Spanish Colonial style house with a small brick porch. The plum-colored front door beckoned visitors inside with understated warmth. “Thanks for the escort.”

  “Any time.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

  She lifted a hand to her shoulder, to pull off his jacket he guessed, but instead she stilled as they stared at each other. Under the light of the moon her eyes took on the hue of the evening sky. Breathtaking. Unforgettable.

  In the distance he heard the faint drone of a television. The scent of firewood reached his nose. She dropped her gaze, sliding it down his chest to his stomach, his legs, and then slowly back up again. Her open perusal made him hard and he cursed the effect she had on him. Why did she have to be Payton’s best friend and Cooper’s sister? He could deny it over and over again, but the truth was he wanted to finish what they’d started. Nothing serious, just some fun.

  Her naturally pink lips parted a fraction.

  Despite the fact that they stood in her quaint neighborhood with little space between the houses, he’d swear nothing else existed but the two of them.

  “Something on your mind?” he asked. Tell me I am, he thought. Tell me this tangled attraction goes both ways.

  Possession, affection, necessity, all swam through his veins as he stared at Honor’s expressive face. She tried to hide, but he saw how much he affected her even when she didn’t want him to.

  “Just the usual. Here you go.” She handed him his jacket. “Thanks again.”

  “Wait. Do you have a minute?”

  She gave a small, confused shake of her head. “I guess so.”

  “I’ve got to give the best man speech. Maybe you could tell me what you think.” Where the hell had that come from? You don’t want to say good-night.

  Damn if that little voice inside his head hadn’t decided to take over his common sense. He wanted nothing to do with her. He wanted everything to do with her.

  And so he’d take a few more minutes.

  “Oh. Okay.” A cold breeze picked up wisps of her hair. Her body shook and she crossed her arms over her chest.

  Bryce put his coat back around her.

  “Why don’t you come inside for a minute and give it to me?”

  He couldn’t help but let his dirty mind picture a few ways he’d like to give it to her. His inappropriate thoughts must have shown on his face because her cheeks reddened and she added, “The speech. You can give me your speech.”

  Without waiting for him to answer, she pulled the lapel of his jacket tighter and led him into her house. “Have a seat.” She nodded to her couch in the small open space. “I’ll be right back. I need something warm to drink. Can I get you anything?”

  “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

  He watched her enter the kitchen before he sat. One word best described her home—cozy. Wood flooring, comfortable furnishings, rich-colored paintings decorating the walls. On the fireplace mantle sat three framed photographs. Her and Cooper. Cooper with an older couple Bryce assumed were their parents. And one with her and Payton, huge smiles on their faces, the ocean behind them. Seeing the two of them together nearly cut off the oxygen supply to his lungs. This was a bad idea, being in her home, because the person he was most drawn to in that photo wasn’t the woman he’d lov
ed.

  A book on the ottoman caught his eye and he picked it up to distract himself. His mom loved Roseville pottery and had a large collection of the American made designs. “You like Roseville?” he called out.

  “Yes,” Honor answered, glancing over at him from the kitchen counter. She gave a barely there smile as she slipped his jacket off and hung it over the back of a chair before turning back to her task.

  Bryce thumbed through the glossy pages of the book. About to set it back on the ottoman, he froze when the next page he turned to carried a note tucked into the spine so it wouldn’t fall out.

  The beige parchment paper the size of a postcard had a list written on it in neat cursive writing that he recognized as Payton’s.

  1) Have a one night stand

  2) Get a tattoo

  3) Take a hot air balloon ride

  4) Open an antique store with my best friend

  5) Fall in love

  He read it again, his stomach clenching in melancholy. Once again he wondered when she’d written it. She’d wanted a tattoo? Seemed very unlike the woman he’d known.

  “What are you doing?” Honor’s voice shook with distress as she put two coffee cups down on the tray atop the ottoman. “No one ever looks in that book.”

  He looked up to see a flash of pain fill her eyes so fast he felt it like a stake through his heart.

  She grabbed the book off his lap. “You need to go.”

  “Honor—”

  “Now.” She rushed to grab his jacket, thrust it at him, and opened the front door.

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Now,” she repeated, her voice cracking, her bottom lip trembling. It killed him to see her so upset. The second he stepped onto the porch the door slammed shut.

  “Mr. Bishop? What are you doing here?”

  Bryce blinked his eyes into focus. “Cooper, hey. I walked your sister home from the rehearsal dinner.”

  Cooper frowned. “You’re not into her are you? Because my skateboarding and my family are two things that do not overlap.”

  “I hear you. I was just doing a good deed, being that we’re both part of the wedding party.” Cooper’s firm opinion knocked some sense back into him. Time to think about his agency, not the bridesmaid that had his sex drive back in full throttle. “What are you up to?”