More Than A Kiss (More Than Best Friends Book 2)

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More Than A Kiss (More Than Best Friends Book 2) Page 1

by Sally Henson




  More Than A Kiss

  Sally Henson

  Copyright © 2017 by Sally Henson

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by:

  Anne Rose

  Cindy Ray Hale http://cindyrayhale.com/editing-service/

  Contents

  Reading Order

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  32. Join Sally’s Notes

  Leave a Review

  Meet Sally

  Thank You

  The More Than Best Friends Series is a continuous series and is best enjoyed if read in order.

  Book one: More Than His Best Friend

  Book two: More Than A Kiss

  Thank you for purchasing

  More Than A Kiss

  Would you like access to updates on new releases, special deals, bonus content, and other great stuff from Sally? Find out more when you reach the end of More Than A Kiss.

  1

  Regan

  For once in my life, instead of holding back, instead of building my invisible wall of protection … I lose myself. I dive into Lane’s kiss with an urgency I've never felt before—realizing every endearment, every gaze, every touch, every kiss could evaporate into the night air. His hands tangle through my hair and slow dance down my back. My fingers graze through his shaggy hair and across his shoulders, tracing his muscles over his shirt. Completely caught up in the moment, I become oblivious to everything but the two of us.

  Above the symphony of the nocturnal orchestra of summer’s end and the breath of young love comes a piercing and disturbing sound. A noise that catches breaths and stops hearts—a resounding gong of a peeved paternal presence clearing his throat.

  Lane freezes the instant my breath catches through our connected lips. Immediately, every inch of my body is rigid, as if I've turned into a marble statue. Lane’s arms quickly flex, fingers digging into my back. With a quick tug, he brings me closer. The elated pitter-patter of my heart against my chest suddenly changes into a sonic explosion of heartbeats. He releases me, and we drop our hands to our sides. We've been caught. Stay calm, stay calm. Breathe. Ouch—I can't. My bliss has been erased, replaced with a fearful, stabbing pain. A bad combination for a sixteen-year-old girl trying to breathe. Slowly, I begin to turn toward the sound to face the only masculine presence other than Lane. The only other male at my house, Dad.

  Lane grazes my hand with his and loosely laces his ring finger and pinky with mine. I thank him silently by giving his fingers a squeeze. That tiny action eases the stabbing sensation in my chest a bit.

  Before I even get turned halfway around, Dad grabs my arm and slings me away from Lane. I can’t believe he just did that. My breath comes in quick pants. It’s throwing me more off balance, placing everything in slow motion. All I can hear is heavy panting and a thud. Air whirls around me, filling my ears like the rush of ocean waves. When I finally get my balance, I try to find Lane in the shadows.

  Blobs of darkness and tiny points of starry lights are all I can make out. They utter muffled words—and occasional grunts. My mouth and throat are so dry. Steadying myself with my hands on my knees, I continue to gasp for air. My tongue moves inside my mouth as I try to muster up enough saliva to swallow so I can speak, but the dizziness has my stomach threatening to empty its contents. My heart’s beating out of control. It might fly out of my mouth if my stomach makes one more tremble. I press one hand to my chest, hoping to settle my insides.

  “Stop.” I manage to push one word out of my mouth, but even I couldn't hear it. The torrential panting that’s been echoing in my ears is me.

  Prickles of electricity fill the air surround me, popping and sparking all around. It's on my skin—tingling like my feet do after I sit on them too long. Lane's face-down in the grass near the edge of the driveway. His wrists are pinned behind his head as if he’s being arrested. Oh! Dad’s knee’s mashing Lane's face into the ground.

  Finally, able to swallow, I screech out, “Stop! Please.” Between short, shallow breaths, I try to make my heavy marble legs move toward them. I knew Dad would overreact if he saw Lane and I together like this, but I didn’t expect him to pin Lane to the ground.

  Lane turns his head toward me. I straighten and the whoosh of swirling air grows louder. Moisture beads on my skin. I force myself to take deeper breaths. He releases Lane. I hear a voice but it's garbled and I can't make out the words. I take another step. Lane’s up and walking toward me. The pole light filters across his face; he’s okay. His lips are moving. Dad stays back in the shadows.

  I reach out to Lane. That slight movement causes the edges of my vision to fade. Something’s wrong with me.

  “Lane.” My voice is only a whisper. My muscles give out as my surroundings fade. Only the sparkle of the electric stars snapping in the air is left, the roaring silence, and the feeling of falling. Nothingness surrounds me.

  The boat rocks me back and forth in a slow, steady rhythm. The sound of Lane's voice grumbling brings me out of the abyss. I think he has me curled up against him. It's more of a sway than a rocking motion—he's carrying me. I inhale the musky fragrance filling the air. It smells like his skin, him. I snuggle against him and purr a sigh of comfort—which, in turn, causes him to stand still. I raise my lids enough to look up at him. It's dark, but I see his beautiful eyes gently looking down at me. Mmm, I must be dreaming. I close my eyes again. Maybe I should go back to sleep.

  “How do you feel?” Lane’s voice is soft and laced with concern.

  I peek at him again. A groan rumbles through me. Exhaustion has saturated my muscles.

  Another body leans over to look at me. “Regan, you okay?”

  That voice. I haven’t heard his voice in so long. It must be a dream.

  “I think you hyperventilated, Sis.”

  My eyes pop open. I scramble out of Lane’s arms, trying to get my feet to the ground.

  “Whoa, slow down.” Lane gently stands me upright.

  I blink profusely, trying to focus. I can't believe it! “Lincoln?”

  My brother holds his hands out, flicking them in the air. “In the flesh.”

  I take a step closer and lean toward him. “What are you doing here?” I can’t believe my eyes, my ears.

  He chuckles. “I missed you too.” Lincoln stretches out his arms.

  I hug him tightly. “I can't believe you're here. Where have you been? I've missed you so much.” Tears begin to sting my eyes. And then it hits me. I pull away. “Did you see Dad? Is he here?” I look around for him.

  Lane shakes his head. I touch his cheek and check him over. “Oh, my gosh. Are you okay? I can't believe he wo
uld do that.” He seems okay. I turn to Lincoln. “Did you see that?” I close my eyes and cover them with my hands. My heart starts racing again as I play back the events. “I hyperventilated … passed out?” I move my hands to my knees and brace myself, trying not to hyperventilate again. Neither one of them is answering my questions. I stand up straight, knitting my brows together. Our surroundings show we’re at the edge of yard on the path to Fox Creek. “What's going on? Where's Dad?”

  They stand silently, staring at me, each waiting for the other to speak.

  “Lane?” Lincoln urges him to explain.

  Lane puts his hands up and takes a small step backward. “This is all you, man.”

  “Come on.” Linc groans and rests his arm on my shoulder as he used to do to show how much taller he is than me.

  My fingers lace through Lane's, I need his support right now. We take a few steps, and Lane clears his throat, prompting my brother to get on with it.

  “Okay … first of all …” Linc wrenches me into his side and I bounce off him. “What are you doing kissing your best friend?” Here comes the interrogation. “I thought you had a no-boyfriend rule? And how long has this been going on?” He leans his head back to glare at Lane.

  “You're supposed to be telling me what's going on,” I fuss back at him.

  “What was I supposed to do? I saw him kissing you like there’s a lot more than friendship going on between you two. He was supposed to be looking out for you, not … grrr.” Linc reaches past me and smacks Lane on the back of his head.

  Lane jerks to the side. “Hey!”

  I stop in my tracks. “That was you? You threw me down and tackled Lane?”

  Lincoln shrugs his shoulders and pulls me back into motion. “That’s an exaggeration if I ever heard one. And what’d you expect? I was saving you.” Our pace has picked up and we are nearly to the creek.

  My muscles tense, and though no one can see them, my eyes are ready to shoot lasers at Linc. “I'll tell you what I didn't expect! I didn't expect anyone to rudely interrupt us.” Lane chuckles and squeezes my fingers. “I didn't expect anyone to sling me across the yard and pounce on Lane.” I let go of Lane’s hand, and turn on Lincoln, pointing at him. “And I definitely didn't expect to see you! You scared the crap out of me.” I pop Linc in the gut with the back of my hand and he lets out a fake cough as if I hurt him. My icy glare has him grinning back at me, doing his best not to laugh.

  A frustrated groan rumbles in my throat while I grit my teeth together. Nothing’s changed. He’s still the same big brother who loves to push my buttons and irritate the snot out of me. Lane breaks my festering wrath with his fingers sliding through mine, tugging me along through the tree line to the water's edge.

  2

  Regan

  All the questions I’ve had for two years are working their way through my red haze of fury. I keep my mouth clamped shut until I can coherently gather my thoughts.

  “Maybe I overreacted a little. But it was like old times, right Lane?”

  “Ha! You didn’t have those moves back then.” He stretches his neck from side to side and rubs his cheek with the palm of his hand.

  I shake my head. This one-upping-the-other-guy thing is dumb. “Overreacted a little? You made me pass out!”

  Lane remains quiet, lending me support with his thumb gently rubbing the back of my hand.

  “I'm sorry.” Linc laughs and holds his palms up to me. “I didn't mean to do that. You’re not as tough as you used to be, Sis. Back in the day, you would’ve been on my back, scratching my eyes out by the time I had Lane pinned to the ground.” He snorts another laugh.

  “Hilarious,” I deadpan.

  Linc folds his arms across his chest. “What’s going on with you two? Do Mom and Dad know?”

  My eyes narrow. “Do you think if they knew, I would’ve reacted like that?”

  Linc cocks his head to the side. “If Dad ever caught you two kissing like that …” He shakes his head, disapproving of our actions.

  “He wouldn’t have gone ballistic like you did. And, no, they don't know yet.” I blow out a long breath, looking up into the heavens. “We're going to tell them tomorrow after church.” My tone suggests I'm not looking forward to it.

  “I don’t think that’s a smart idea.”

  Lane takes a step toward Linc. “Your dad likes me. Why wouldn’t he like the idea of us together?”

  Linc rubs his chin and scoffs. “First, he’ll say you’re too old for Regan because you’re in college and college boys aren’t so innocent.”

  I fold my arms in front of my chest, curling my fingers into a ball. Though neither is looking at me, my eye roll doesn’t hide what I think about that statement. “What does that mean?” I know what it means … Lane’s going to be exposed to drinking, sex, drugs, and all that other stuff, but I want to hear Linc say it.

  He ignores my question. “Second, he’ll be crazy suspicious, about how long this affair’s been going on.”

  “Affair? What affair?” Where is he getting this kind of language?

  “Your little cover-ups are going to turn on you, and you’ll begin to wonder which lie the other is telling is really the truth. Secrets fuel insecurity and jealousy. If they haven’t already crept in, they will, once Lane jumps into college life. It can turn best friends into someone you used to know.” He shakes his head as if he’s ridding himself of a bad dream.

  I’m not sure Linc’s even talking about me and Lane. I glance to Lane. He tilts his head with his lips pulling to one side. Lane’s confused with Linc’s words, too.

  “Third, Dad’ll be wondering how friendly you’ve become.” He steps toward Lane. They’re only about a foot apart. “I’m wondering the same thing myself.” Linc leans forward; he’s a couple of inches taller than Lane. He clamps his jaw shut spitting out the question, “Are you screwing my sister?”

  The air I suck in nearly chokes me. “Linc!”

  Lane pushes out a cocky snort. “Not that it’s any of your business—”

  Interrupting their odd behavior, I push the two of them apart, and step in front of Linc. “It's only been a few weeks. We're still trying to figure things out.” I shake my head. “Lane’s leaving for college tomorrow.”

  “How old are you, fifteen?” Linc uses a paternal tone on me.

  “Sixteen, I’m going to be a junior and Lane’s only two years older than me.”

  “Two years is a big difference when one of you is going off to college. Besides,” he looks over my head at Lane. “I thought you were going out with that Joann chick? What happened to her?”

  My glare drops to the ground, tempering my fire into a resemblance of heartache. Linc just popped my bubble with one word. Joann’s not even her name. Just the mention of that girl makes me feel as if I’m invisible. I trudge to the bench and plop down.

  “That was a long time ago. You’d know these things if you kept in touch. You’ve kinda been MIA.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Linc gets in Lane’s face again.

  “It means you don’t know how your dad’s going to react. He likes me.”

  “Regan is his little girl, and he won’t want anyone taking that away from him. Especially some college boy looking for someone to blow his mind.”

  “Dude, you know me better than that.” Lane’s voice is soft and strained.

  They stand staring at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time.

  I flop my elbows on my knees, resting my pounding head in my hands. It’s become humid, and between it and the craziness of what’s going on right now, my skin has a layer of salty moisture covering it. There’s no breeze to cool me.

  “Whatever.” Linc turns and walks my way. “You realize if you get pregnant your whole lives are going to be turned upside-down and you'll have a shotgun wedding on your hands and how are you two going to deal with that?”

  “Linc!” I flick my wrist, backhanding him in the gut as he sits down. He doesn’t even flinch.


  Lane steps closer to me. “Linc, it's not like that, man.”

  Linc growls, “It better not be like that.” He stretches his legs out in front of him, wearing a stone-cold serious look on his face.

  I can tell Lane has more to say, but he turns his head and shifts his weight from one leg to the other.

  This isn’t quite the reunion with Linc I imagined would happen after two years without a word to me. The bullfrogs and crickets talking all around have me longing for the days when the three of us would camp out here under the big tree. We used to have so much fun. Now look at us—fighting under the same tree with the same summer night sounds and smells.

  “So, other than this inappropriate relationship, how are things? Tell me what’s going on in your life.” My brother pops off another smart-alec comment all chipper like as if he’s being nothing but pleasant.

  “Why haven't you come home or called? Why did you join the Navy? Why are you home now?”

  Linc drops his hands to his lap.

  “Linc, I need to know what happened.” I twist in my seat to see him better.

  He shakes his head. “I don't want to talk about that right now. I only have a few minutes. Let's not waste it on bad memories. Please.” He smiles weakly. “What are you and your friends up to?”

  It takes some time to transition from the tense accusations to a lighter conversation, but we get there. Linc’s chest puffs up a little when I tell him about my dual-credit classes. He doesn’t know Haylee, but he remembers her mom as a teacher.

 

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