Blame it on the Kiss

by Robin Bielman

  “And second, I did leave with every intention of driving home.” His thumb stroked her knuckles. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. I wish I could, but I can’t. So, what I have here is a gift.” He drew her to the countertop. “This is a puffer fish.”

  The pentagon shaped tank stood about two feet tall. Blue rocks filled the bottom. A plastic plant and treasure chest sat atop the jagged stones. The cute little fish had big eyes and a rounded body with black polka dots and fins on either side of him that fluttered like hummingbird wings.

  “He’s staring at me.”

  “He knows a beautiful thing when he sees it.”

  She had no answer for that. No idea what to think or feel about his admission. For the moment, she’d go with the flow.

  He slid the tank closer to the wall to plug it in. The treasure chest yawned, tiny bubbles floated up. “The filter should be good for a while. Can I have a clean glass?” Honor grabbed one. He filled it with water from the tap and poured it into the tank, continuing to fill-and-pour until the water level in the tank had risen almost to the top. Next he added a couple of clear drops of liquid from a tiny plastic bottle.

  “Have you ever had a fish before?”

  “No. You seem pretty knowledgeable, though.”

  “I had my own tank for a few years when I was young.” Bryce held up a small container. “This is his food. He only needs a flake or two once a day.”

  “Got it.” She leaned closer with her elbows on the counter, her nose almost touching the glass. “I should name him.”

  “You should.”

  “What do you think of Jaws?”

  Bryce laughed. “I like it.”

  They watched Jaws for a couple of minutes in comfortable silence. Bryce’s gesture overwhelmed her and she didn’t know what to do or say next. Finally she decided on, “You bought me a pet.” For some reason it seemed necessary she acknowledge that aloud.

  “He’s more than a pet.”

  She puzzled over that as she lifted up and faced him.

  “He’s who you can fall in love with without worry.”

  Her legs shook. Bryce caught her around the waist before she collapsed to the floor in a heap of love and longing and devotion.

  “Whoa.” He brought her flush against his hard, warm chest and abs. “You all right?”

  No. She wasn’t. Not by a long shot. “Bryce,” she said softly.

  “Honor,” he answered just as quietly.

  “No one…” She swallowed the emotion clogging the back of her throat. “No one has ever thought about me the way you do.” He’d made her promise to Payton a real possibility. Fall in love, Pay had listed. Not fall in love, get married, and have babies. She was halfway to loving Jaws already. By tomorrow she’d be all the way there. And she’d feed him every day and talk to him every day and watch him swim every day.

  If she simply took the words as Pay had written them, then she’d followed through.

  “That makes us even,” Bryce said, “because I’ve never thought about anyone the way I do you.”

  She lifted onto her tiptoes and kissed him. He cradled her face with his big, strong hands as hers snaked through his soft brown hair. She feasted on his lips and tongue until she had to come up for air. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “My pleasure.”

  “Do you have plans for today?”

  “That depends.” He toyed with her hair and even though she knew it impossible to feel something through the fine strands, her scalp tingled.

  “On?”

  “What you have planned.”

  “I was thinking about spending the day in bed.”

  His eyes went all dark and seductive. The dimple in his chin deepened. “The one night stand is off the table?”

  “No. But maybe we could bend the rules a little. Extend the night to include the day. Just this once.” She knew it was wrong to keep him with her, to continue what they’d had into daylight hours, but she couldn’t help herself. Guilt still sat in the back of her mind because she was here with Bryce and Payton wasn’t, but worse was her heart and body had overruled the logic she’d come to live by since Lance. The truth she held above all else: She didn’t have the capacity to truly love someone and not hurt him.

  For a little while longer, though, she wanted to pretend that nothing else existed but her and Bryce.

  “I’m all yours,” he said with a grin, and a part of her wished that were possible.

  Chapter Ten

  Early Monday morning Honor walked down Main Street toward the Beach Café to grab coffee before she hit the mayor’s office. Spring Break was around the corner and she had a ton of work to do for the annual street fair.

  A group of seagulls squawked overhead in the clear blue sky, drawing her attention up. It was beautiful after rainy days. The air cleaner, the sights and sounds crisper. Like living in a postcard.

  She took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth just before a burst of hot pink rounded the corner and she choked out a laugh. Coming at her was Midge and her “Street Team.” The walking group—Midge, Mrs. Landry, Shirley, and Mrs. Jamison—all wore bright pink Just Do It T-shirts and the hot pink tutus they’d acquired when they power jammed through their first Color Run a few months ago. ‘Power jammed’ was Mrs. L.’s phrase and she made sure everyone knew it. They walked around town every morning to stay fit. Look up ‘fit’ in the White Strand dictionary and there was a bonus definition: keep your nose in everyone’s business.

  The main reason Honor giggled, though, had everything to do with the team’s new leader. He’d also donned a tutu.

  “Yo, Honorlicious,” Dylan said, his blonde Einstein hair standing in crazier disarray than usual.

  “Nice outfit.” Honor came to a stop with her hands on her hips.

  Dylan grinned. “Right?” He brought the group to a halt by putting his hand up, arm bent at the elbow before he leaned forward and whispered, “They’re paying me so I’ll wear whatever they want.” Straightening he said, “I’m whipping these ladies into shape for the Cove 5K.”

  “That’s great.” Honor put up her palm to high five the team of adorable older women.

  “Honor,” Mrs. Jamison said, pulling her into a hug. “Please thank that boyfriend of yours again for coming to my rescue Saturday night.”

  “Oh, he’s not—”

  “And tell him he must let me repay him for sending a plumber over yesterday to put a snake in my drain.”

  Mrs. L. got a gleam in her eye and pressed her hands together. “Tell us again how long his snake was, Betty.”

  “Long. And when he bent over—”

  “Whoa,” Honor and Dylan said at the same time. “I’m gonna grab some water. Be right back. You ladies stay put,” Dylan said, disappearing down the street and leaving Honor alone with four sets of eyes narrowed on her like they wanted all the details of her sex life.

  “Now that he’s gone, we need the scoop,” Mrs. L said with a wink, “Betty told us what a hottie your boyfriend is.”

  Honor bit the inside of her cheek. Leave it to the four busiest bodies in White Strand to get her alone first thing in the morning after the best weekend of her life. “He’s not my—”

  “You should have seen his muscles straining through his wet shirt,” Mrs. J. said.

  The team nodded like they wished they had.

  “He’s not my boyfriend. And what are you doing checking out someone young enough to be your grandson?

  “I may be older, but I’m not dead.”

  Honor sucked in her bottom lip to keep from laughing.

  “He’s also very charming,” Midge said, ignoring Honor’s boyfriend rebuttal and reminding her Bryce had been into the Happy Harpoon several times.

  He wasn’t a stranger in her town anymore.

  “You ladies are impossible. We’re just… friends.”

  “Friends with benefits.” Mrs. L. said like she’d just coined the term. The rest of the group grinned. At le
ast they were enjoying this.

  “It’s not like that, either.” Could she rewind the morning and take a different route please?

  “What is it like?” Midge asked. Her grandmotherly voice was inquisitive and sweet, a combination that usually got her the answers she wanted.

  “Umm…”

  Shirley’s hip hummed and she jumped. “Oh, that’s my cell,” she announced. She lifted her tutu and retrieved the phone. “It’s a text from Frannie. She wants to know what’s this she hears about Honor and some hotshot agent with tight buns.”

  Oh. My. God.

  And how did the mayor’s wife find out about her and Bryce?

  “What are you texting back?” Honor asked, watching Shirley text faster than she did.

  “That he’s your sex slave.”

  “What?” This was a bad dream and any minute now Honor would wake up and go straight to work. Do not walk down Main Street. Do not stop for coffee. Run in the opposite direction if she ever saw the Street Team again.

  Shirley looked up. “Kidding, sweetie.”

  Midge put her hand on Honor’s arm. “We love you. And we’re happy you’re finally moving on with such a nice young man.”

  What did that mean? Moving on. No one knew what was inside her head. How could they? “You ladies need to find something else to talk about.” She stepped around them and waved an arm over her head. “Something more age appropriate,” she added over her shoulder, “like adding fiber to your diets.”

  “She’s definitely in love,” Mrs. Landry said, prompting Honor to hurry her steps.

  Love? That was crazy talk. And damn it all. She’d be the talk of the town now. Everyone would speculate and whisper and watch her every move. She knew no one meant any harm, but she hated being under a microscope.

  Love, she mentally repeated, and her heart did a wheelie. She rubbed a few fingers across her chest to banish the uncool display from the stupid organ.

  Instead of going to the mayor’s office, she took off in a different direction. Palm trees shaded most of her walk, but by the time she got to her destination tiny beads of sweat trickled down her sides. She knocked on the door. It swung open. “Hi, Uncle Tuck.”

  He took one look at her and opened his arms. She stayed in the cocoon of his embrace for a good long while before they moved outside to the deck.

  Still they didn’t talk, just sat in companionable silence and watched the waves roll onto shore in the distance. Like her, Uncle Tuck didn’t always need words to fill the space.

  “I got a fish.”

  “Gold?”

  “Puffer.”

  “Even better.”

  “His name is Jaws.”

  “No better name than that.”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s worked his way into my heart.”

  Uncle Tuck turned away from the sea and looked at her. She kept her attention straight ahead so all he saw was her profile. That would be enough for him to figure out she wasn’t only talking about a fish.

  Her uncle heard things too. He was fooling around with Mrs. L., after all, and that right there meant a front row seat to everything going on in the cove. Honor hadn’t been hiding her relationship with Bryce. But they wouldn’t be seen together again and how did she explain that? Would people look at her with pity and assume she’d screwed up again?

  “Did I ever tell you the story about how I met Veronica?” he said.

  “No.”

  He settled back into his Adirondack chair. “I’d just finished surfing. It was late in the day and most of the other guys had left. I’d parked my car in the bike lane and was changing out of my wetsuit. I had a towel around my waist and nothing else when I closed the driver’s side door and my towel got stuck.”

  Honor twisted to face her uncle and brought her knees up to her chest. She fought a smile.

  “When I tried to open the door, it was locked. I looked through the window and my keys were right there on the front seat. I’d locked my goddamn keys in the car and was stuck with nothin’ but a towel on.”

  A little giggle escaped through her pressed lips.

  One corner of Tuck’s mouth lifted into an impish grin. He never took himself too seriously.

  “So a car pulls in behind mine and parks. This knockout gets out. Long legs, great rack, blond hair. She goes around to her trunk and starts pulling out camera equipment. A tripod, big black canvas case. Then her head peeks around the corner of the car and her eyes lock on mine. ‘Need some help?’ she says. ‘You offering?’ I ask back.

  “She picks up her stuff and strides over to me, her eyes never leaving mine. They’re green and bright and they’re laughing. She’s laughing at me and right there I knew I was gonna ask this woman to marry me. She tells me she’s a photographer. I tell her I’m a surfer. ‘Got anything on under there?’ she says. ‘Nope,’ I say. She sizes me up then, says, ‘Tell you what, I’ve got a box full of swimwear in my backseat for shoots. I’ll get you a pair of trunks if you model for me with your surfboard.’ ‘Deal,’ I tell her. She smiles and walks around to the passenger side of her car. I follow her.”

  “Tuck!”

  He grinned. “She didn’t even flinch. Checked out my junk and told me this was gonna be the start to a beautiful relationship. It was.”

  Honor cast soft eyes on her great uncle. The man could make her laugh and sigh at the same time. “Do you ever regret walking away?”

  “Ah, the “R” word.” He ran a hand along his tanned, clean-shaven jaw, his skin creased from all his days spent in the surf and sun, but still handsome as ever. “That word comes back like a pesky fly that won’t go away.”

  “Or like a scent that clings to you no matter how many times you wash your hands.” She could still sometimes smell Lance’s bodywash and she hated that.

  Tuck gave her arm a quick squeeze. “Here’s the thing. Walking with our heads down trying to pull the weight of our mistakes doesn’t make them go away. Choice is the only thing that conquers regret. Choosing to learn from our past and waking up with hope on the pillowcase beside us rather than remorse.”

  “I wish there was a magic pill.”

  “There is. It’s called Vi—”

  “Stop!” She sent him her sternest, most forbidding glare. He was almost as bad as the Street Team.

  He chuckled. “Do I regret not marrying Veronica? Yes and no. She ended up marrying a great guy and they’ve got a boatload of grandkids. Do I regret all the days I spent with her? No. Hell no. Some of my greatest memories are of the two of us. So you see, there’s good wrapped up in things we might regret, too.

  “I’ve learned to wake up with the conviction that I’m better than my past. And you are too, Sunshine.”

  She blinked back tears. “I can’t… I don’t…” She’d gotten so used to the idea that she couldn’t commit to anything for the long haul that she didn’t believe anything else. She and Bryce had said goodbye on good terms. But if there was the possibility of more… “I’ll fail him. I know I will.”

  “I don’t see how that’s possible. Fish are very simple creatures.”

  The corners of her mouth lifted up. Tuck smiled in return before he said, “So are men.”

  Yes, but she wasn’t.

  Tuck studied her. “I can see your mind working between what if’s and what not’s and whether or not you deserve to be happy. You do, Sunshine. For a long time now, you’ve been lost, and here’s what I want you to do.

  “Find yourself in the present. See the possibilities right in front of you and hold on tight to the ones you want to keep.”

  She let all his words sink in. She did that already, didn’t she? Lived impulsively and for fun. Independent and uninhibited.

  “Regret isn’t real,” Tuck said. “It’s something invented to punish ourselves.”

  That hit her like a two hundred pound punching bag. She was still punishing herself for what happened with Lance.

  “So,” he said standing up, and slapping his hands on his thighs
. “You eat yet? How about some French toast?”

  “Sounds good.” She followed him into the kitchen where he shared more stories that centered around his lack of clothing.

  And for the first time in a very long while, she didn’t feel all the weight of her mistakes on her shoulders.

  She left Tuck’s a little while later for her antique store so she wouldn’t have to face Shirley again. The floor shined like new. Danny had put her shelves together. “Pay, it’s starting to look really good in here.” Her painted wall still looked like it had been brushed with kid fingers instead of bristles, but if she squinted, it didn’t look half bad. She plopped down in the middle of the room to soak it all in just as her cell rang.

  “Hello?” she said with hesitancy. She didn’t recognize the number.

  “Hello. Is Honor Mitchell there please?”

  “This is she.”

  “Hi, Honor. My name is Beth Rhodes and I was hoping to hire you. Bryce Bishop gave me your number.”

  Caught off guard and a little confused, she didn’t answer right away.

  “I’m sorry,” Beth said, “Did I catch you in the middle of something? I’m happy to call back later.”

  “Uh, no. No.” She jumped to her feet and went to her desk. “Now’s fine. How do you know Bryce?”

  “He represents my husband. He was at the house this morning for a meeting and we got on the topic of antiques since I’ve been hoping to find a chest from the Victorian era similar to the one my great grandmother had. Bryce mentioned you were the best antique dealer on the west coast.”

  Honor didn’t know what to say. She could barely catch her breath.

  “Hello?”

  She scrambled for a pen and paper. “Yes. I’m here. Let me just write down your name and number and if you could email me exactly what you’re looking for, I’d be happy to help you out.”

  “That’s wonderful. Thank you.”

  Beth recited her phone number and Honor shared her email address. She asked for Honor’s fee next and Honor spit out the first number to come to mind. A ridiculously high hourly rate she wished she could take back the moment she heard it aloud, but Beth simply said that sounded great.