Blame it on the Kiss

by Robin Bielman

  “I can’t wait.” She broke eye contact and reached for the white paper bag. “Should we hurry and finish these amazing pommes gaufrettes?”

  “We should. By the way, the dusting,” he nodded at the fry in her hand, “is cocoa powder so good guess Smarty Pants.” He grabbed his own fry out of the bag and popped it into his mouth.

  “I never would’ve thought to combine the two.”

  “Surprise.”

  “You are the King of Surprises.” He’d caught her off guard in the best, most wonderful ways. What would it be like to be surprised by him next week? Next month? She blinked away the thought.

  “And fun?” He traced his finger down her arm.

  “That, too.” She’d never experienced this much joy and happiness. Panic boiled over inside her at the magnitude of it. She turned her attention to the water, worried he’d see all the admiration—and fear—on her face.

  “Honor?”

  “Yes?”

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  She could do that. “And get naked again?”

  “I think we both know last weekend wasn’t enough. We can try and ignore this pull between us, but maybe it would be better to make some new rules instead. Or better yet, fly by the seat of our pants.”

  His words, as usual, were like magic. She knew how to fly. How to be spontaneous and not think too far ahead.

  She jumped to her feet. “Last one to the car is a rotten egg.”

  He drove like a NASCAR driver back to her place, and ushered her inside so fast there was no way Mrs. Jamison and her spying eyes could have seen them.

  Bryce’s hands were all over her as they stumbled into her bedroom. He kicked the door shut. Mouths busy, fingers searching, they had each other naked in less than ten seconds.

  Honor took him in her hand, stroked him, then dropped to her knees to take him inside her mouth. His hands went to her hair, holding her head in place.

  “Yes, just like that,” he groaned.

  She loved the effect she had on him. Loved feeling him lose control and hearing him gulp for air. She licked him, sucked him, used her hand and mouth until he gripped her shoulders and pulled her to her feet.

  “Bed. Now,” he said.

  They’d made love several times now. Rushed and rowdy. Slow and steady. Careful and mindless. But this time, this time was different.

  Because she was different. This wasn’t a one-night thing for either of them anymore. And with every kiss and heady surge of his hips, she felt like he was branding her, opening her eyes and mind to a new point of view. Fear she’d mess up this beautiful thing lingered, but stronger was the desire to open herself up. To follow her heart, to give her heart, and see what Bryce did with it. She’d rather he hurt her than the other way around.

  He stared down at her with intensity and unabashed affection and she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, dug her nails deeper into his lower back. Their sweat-slicked bodies moved together in impossibly perfect tempo. When she exploded with soul-shattering spasms, he continued to hold her snug in his arms until her breathing slowed. Then he brought her knees up higher and rocked inside her with white-hot strokes that made her moan and gasp and took her right back to that beautiful edge of release.

  She brought one arm up to thread her fingers through his hair before cupping his head and bringing his lips to hers. He devoured her mouth until she cried out another release with fearless abandon. A few moments later his magnificent body shuddered and his husky groan of satisfaction filled the room.

  They lay tangled in each other until sleep came, the last thought in her head how much she loved and appreciated that he made her forget.

  But forgetting about her mistakes didn’t mean forgiving herself for them and until she did that, she’d never be able to move forward.

  …

  Honor’s antique shop looked great compared to the last time Bryce had seen it. Items sat on shelves, small pieces of furniture were shined and placed, and the wall Honor told him not to pay attention to didn’t—

  “I said not to look at it!” She practically tackled him from behind, putting her hands on his upper arms and turning his body toward the windows. “If you can’t follow one simple direction then you’re going to have to leave.”

  He spun around before she could step away and attacked her mouth with his. She hesitated only a second before giving back with equal energy, her hands in his hair. She liked messing up his hair. He smiled against her mouth.

  “What?” she asked, pulling back.

  “Nothing.” He skimmed her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “Just that I like kissing you. Maybe we should christen this place?” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “You’re insatiable.”

  “Can’t help it.” He’d proven that to her all afternoon.

  She fell against his chest, looped her arms loosely around his neck. “Can you resist me long enough for me to check my email and do a few other little things?”

  “If I have to.” He slid his hands down her back to her very fine ass. He fought the temptation to lift her dress and cop a better feel.

  “Thank you.” She moved to her desk and fired up her computer.

  “Danny did a great job on your floors.” He wandered around the small shop, avoiding direct eye contact with the purple wall of shame. It didn’t look that bad.

  “He did. Did you know he fixed Mrs. Jamison’s gate?”

  “I mentioned the gate needed some repair but I didn’t know he’d helped already.”

  Honor shuffled some papers on her desk. “Yes, and then Mrs. J. referred him to Shirley because her fence was coming down or something, and he fixed that, too. Word has it he’s also helped a few other people. Sophie and I were in the Beach Café the other morning and she mentioned he does all sorts of woodwork, including making furniture.” She glanced up with a pained expression on her face. “Now the Street Team is talking about Danny’s wood.”

  “Street Team?”

  “Don’t ask.” She waved off his question and went back to her computer.

  Bryce knew Danny had been in White Strand more often lately to help Zane with some tax stuff, but he hadn’t realized he’d become so popular.

  “So, um, I have to write up an invoice for Beth Rhodes and that means I need to actually have a name for this place.”

  He inwardly smiled. Beth had been the unintentional catalyst that brought him back to Honor.

  “What do you think of the name Driftwood?” she asked. “When we were little Payton and I used to collect pieces and build beach houses for our Barbie dolls.” She sat back in her chair with a faraway look in her eyes. “I also like it because I picture beaches all over the world with driftwood and how it sort of connects us all. It could come from anywhere, just like the antiques I want to find and sell.”

  “I think it’s a great name.” He stopped in front of her desk.

  “Really?” She blinked up at him and he hoped she saw how proud he was of her.

  “It’s a keeper.”

  The grin she flashed before going back to her computer put him over the moon. Seeing her happy drove every other thought but her out of his head. For a long time work had meant more to him than anything else, but when he was with Honor he didn’t think about business. Had he let his client list interfere with his personal relationships in the past? Maybe.

  He had no idea where things would lead with Honor, and contradictory emotions still sat in the back of his mind. But if ever there was a risk worth taking again… was it with her? Could she heal his blackened heart? Could he heal hers?

  “You busy next Saturday night?” he asked.

  Her fingers kept tapping away on the keyboard. “I don’t think so.”

  “I’m being honored at a charity dinner and would like for you to go with me.”

  She froze, like time stood still and Bryce was the only one breathing. When she finally raised her eyes to his, he didn’t know what to make of her blank expression.

/>   “You mean as your date?” she said quietly.

  “Yes.”

  “You want me to be with you when you receive an award.” Not a question, more like a crazy fact she couldn’t wrap her head around.

  “Yes,” he answered with conviction. Until he heard from Cooper, he saw no reason not to keep seeing Honor. Once he got a yes or no answer from the skateboarder, he’d figure out what to do then.

  Her gaze fell to her desk. “Will your family be there?”

  “Yes. And so will Danny, Zane and Sophie. Look at it as an excuse to dress up and have a night out.”

  “This is a big deal.”

  “The evening or the date?” He couldn’t be sure, but he had a feeling if he handed her a brown paper bag, she’d be grateful to breathe into it.

  She let out a sigh. “Both.”

  “The dinner is an annual event put on by the Bishop Foundation to recognize contributions by volunteers and people in the community. My grandmother started the organization to honor my grandfather and its grown quite a bit since then. In the past it’s been a relatively small celebration. Maybe a hundred and fifty people. Having you as my date will make me the envy of every man in the room. But more importantly,” he lifted her hand off the desk and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. “When you’re near me I’m infinitely happier.”

  She lifted her eyes back to his. “You don’t play fair.”

  “I only speak the truth.”

  “At the precise moment to catch a girl at her weakest.”

  He frowned. There was nothing weak about her.

  She pulled her hand back and rolled her eyes. “How can I say no when you’ve spent the past four hours making me infinitely happier by giving me orgasm after orgasm and all I can think about is you doing it again.”

  “So that’s a yes?” He flashed her a roguish smile.

  “Plus you took me to see butterflies.” She fell back against her chair in happy defeat, the dreamy expression on her face giving her away.

  “And don’t forget spoke French to you.”

  His reminder provoked a sexy grin to take hold of lips still swollen from his kisses. They stayed latched to each other’s gaze until she broke eye contact and said, “I don’t know how to do this, Bryce.”

  “Sure you do. Just be yourself. I’ve never met anyone who puts others at ease as quickly as you do and you might pretend you don’t like to be social, but I know you secretly want to dress up and paint the town. No one wears a dress like you do.”

  She shook her head in mock discomfort, the slight turn at the corners of her mouth sharing her true disposition. “Is this a formal dinner?”

  “Yes. I’ll be in a tux.”

  Silence dragged on for what seemed like hours before she finally blessed him with an agreeable smile. “Okay, I’ll be your date. But only because you probably look obscenely hot in a tux.”

  “Of course.”

  “And Sophie needs a gal pal,” Honor said.

  “I think Olivia is going to be there, too. You remember her from the wedding?”

  “I do.” Honor’s shoulder’s visibly relaxed. “So you’ll have several friends there.”

  If it made her feel better to be lumped in with his friends, so be it. As long as she was at the event, he didn’t care what kind of rationalization she used.

  “Hello?”

  Honor quickly turned her head at the sound of a female voice coming from the open doorway of the store. She jumped to her feet, almost knocking over her chair. “Mary?”

  The older woman smiled. “Surprise.”

  “Oh my gosh.” Honor rushed into the woman’s open arms. They held each other for a long time. Long enough for Bryce to feel like an intruder.

  “I’ve missed you,” Mary said, pulling back. She regarded Honor with big brown eyes filled with motherly love.

  Bryce sucked in a breath. He’d never met Mary, but staring at her face he knew who she was. Over Honor’s shoulder, her gaze connected with his.

  Honor twisted around and when their eyes met, pain spoiled the blue he’d come to adore. Tension so thick filled the space between them, the only way to end it would be to leave. Suddenly, he’d give anything to have an ocean between them.

  “I should head out,” he said.

  “Okay. But uh, before you go, I’d like you to meet Payton’s mom, Mary. Mary, this is… this is my friend Bryce.” Mary looked between them. Honor never broke eye contact with him. “Payton’s Bryce.”

  His gut clenched. Did she still think that? After everything that had happened between them? “It’s nice to meet you,” he said.

  “Likewise.” Mary shook his outstretched hand, her expression warm, but also sympathetic.

  He had to get out of there before he suffocated. Honor’s loyalty would always lay with her best friend, and where that left him he didn’t know. But he certainly didn’t want anyone’s pity.

  “Have a nice visit,” he said before he forced a smile and walked out of the store without a glance back.

  …

  Honor watched Bryce leave and guilt chewed up her insides all over again. She wasn’t sure what she’d done wrong, but hurt had been written all over his face and she hated herself for putting it there. That’s what you do, you bring pain.

  “That was him, huh?” Mary said.

  “Yes.”

  “There’s something going—”

  “Yes.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  Mary took her hand and led her to the window seat. “It’s okay, you know.” Honor kept her eyes on their entwined hands. It wasn’t okay. None of this was okay. “Sometimes what’s meant to be happens from loss.”

  Honor lifted her head. “You really think so?”

  “I do. And I’ll tell you why. This store for one.” Mary scanned the space. “It’s coming along beautifully.”

  “Thanks. I’ve named it Driftwood.”

  “That’s a fabulous name. I remember you and Payton making huts with it when you were little.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “She’s looking down on you, you know. With a smile and appreciation for keeping her in your thoughts.”

  “I think about her every day,” Honor said softly. “How have you been?”

  “Every day gets easier.” Mary glanced down, gave Honor’s hand a squeeze and then let go. “You got the tattoo.”

  Honor rubbed her finger across the ink. The way Mary said, the tattoo, raised goose bumps on Honor’s skin. “Yes?”

  Mary chuckled. “You always wanted one. You don’t remember? It was Ally’s Sweet Sixteen, I think, and you and Payton got Henna tattoos. Pay hated hers, but you loved yours and told your mother that you were going to get a real tattoo before you turned twenty-five.”

  A rush of memories flooded Honor. She’d forgotten all about that. “And Mom said she’d go with me if I was worried about the needle.” She thought about Bryce and how he’d been there for her with his supportive touch and playful word game.

  “I guess you did okay.”

  More than okay. Honor gave a small nod.

  “Have you crossed everything off your list?”

  Honor froze. “What?”

  Mary took a deep breath. “I’m here to make a confession. The list Payton wrote was for you.”

  “I don’t understand.” Honor stood and wrapped her arms around herself. Mary knew about the list?

  “I don’t know everything Pay put on it because she wanted to keep some things private, but the list wasn’t about her like she told you. She made me promise to come see you before your birthday and tell you that.”

  The temperature in the room shot up a hundred degrees, and quite possibly the walls were actually closing in. “What are you saying?”

  Mary got to her feet. “Payton was dying and she wanted you to live, Honor. She’d watched you close yourself off since breaking up with Lance and she hoped this would be a way for you to reclaim some of your old self. She w
anted you to rediscover you could see things through. You’ve always deserved success, Honor, you just wouldn’t let yourself believe it.”

  Mary put her hand on Honor’s arm. “And she knew you wouldn’t do it for yourself. But that you’d do it for her. So she fibbed a little.”

  Honor stumbled back, her head a massive jumble of emotions. “She lied to me?”

  “Because she loved you.”

  That was true. And she knew Honor better than she knew herself. Maybe it took a lie to make a person find what they were capable of. Honor did feel more accomplished since crossing things off Pay’s list. A mixture of relief and courage ran through Honor’s veins.

  This was all on her now and it felt strangely… good.

  Chapter Twelve

  Honor got home Wednesday night and collapsed onto her couch. She’d worked nonstop the past five days, spending all day locked away at the mayor’s office and then her off-hours at Driftwood. Decorating and furnishing the store was the easy and fun part. But things like licenses and insurance and something called a DBA were beyond her scope of understanding. So when Danny had stopped in earlier today, she hadn’t questioned what he was doing there. She just asked for help and he gave it.

  She let out a deep, satisfied breath. Payton would be proud of her.

  The doorbell rang, but unwilling to move from her comfy spot, she didn’t budge. “Come in,” she called out.

  “It’s not too early for the Boogeyman, you know.”

  Honor jolted up at the sound of Bryce’s voice. They hadn’t spoken since he’d left Driftwood the day Mary visited and by the ill humor in his voice, he wasn’t exactly happy to see her now. “Umm…”

  “Are you home alone?”

  “Yes.” Was that good? Bad? Was he supposed to meet up with Cooper?

  “Then you really should keep your door locked.” His unfriendly tone irked her.

  “And ruin visits from the Boogeyman?” she teased, because he might be in a bad mood, but she wasn’t.

  He shook his head and took the spot next to her on the couch. “Danny and I had dinner with Zane and afterwards, I somehow ended up here. Weird, huh?” Finally, like he couldn’t fight it anymore, the corners of his mouth lifted. The slight crack of a sexy mischievous smile combined with that chin and those cheeks and those eyes, turned her to mush.