And Then He Kissed Me

by Kim Amos

  “I care about the girls,” she said, trying to stay focused, “and I want them to finish the season strong. We were on a good path. These girls want to be challenged. Just remember that.”

  Paul nodded thoughtfully. He stared at the notebook, then set it down on his already cluttered desk.

  “Can I get you a drink?” he asked, his denim blue eyes finding hers in the dusty room.

  “No, I’m fine. I don’t mean to keep you. I just wanted to drop off the notebook and—”

  “I meant a drink outside of here. Outside of the school, that is. Ah, perhaps after work sometime?”

  Audrey’s mind raced. “But you have a girlfriend. I forget her name, but…”

  “Camilla. She—that is, we broke up.”

  Audrey got the distinct feeling Paul had been dumped. And now he was asking her out.

  She stilled in her chair, coming to terms with the idea. The crazy thing was, a month ago she would have said yes. Paul was nice. He had a job and he was smart and kind. She could certainly do a lot worse in White Pine.

  But she was ready for something more. The memory of Kieran against her in the bathroom had heat searing her spine.

  Not that Kieran would be the reason she would say no to Paul. The truth is, she didn’t want to date a teacher. A remnant of her past. She especially didn’t want to date a romantic Englishman trapped in a twenty-first-century teacher’s body, who might cut off locks of her hair and press them into envelopes with wax seals. If that was, in fact, what romantic Englishmen did.

  “Thank you, Paul. I’m so flattered. But I think I’d better pass.”

  “Are you seeing someone, then?” he asked amicably enough.

  Audrey bit her lip. She saw Kieran every day. But they weren’t anything to each other. “No, I wouldn’t exactly say seeing.”

  “But there’s someone, then?”

  “I can’t say—”

  “Does he know how you feel?”

  Audrey’s cheeks heated at the line of questioning. She was no prude, but it felt unbearably awkward to be in this classroom with Paul, answering his questions. What was more, the bell for the next class was going to ring, and she needed to duck out of the school before any other students or teachers saw her.

  “I—I’m not sure we’re really anything,” she said finally.

  Paul nodded. “I see. I don’t mean to pry, it’s just that you’re so lovely, Audrey. Coming back here like this, giving me your coaching notebook. It’s astounding, really. I’ve admired you for a great while. I’m sorry that whomever you seem interested in isn’t throwing themselves prostrate at your feet, begging for the honor of being loved by you.”

  Audrey couldn’t help but smile. It was a sweet compliment, and the idea of Kieran at her feet was nearly snort-worthy. “I’m afraid I have a complicated past with the person of interest,” she admitted.

  “Complicated? Well, rest assured, then. All the great romantic writers gave their heroes and heroines complicated situations. Austen. Hardy. Brontë. And they still got their happy endings.”

  Audrey knew she wasn’t going to get a fairy-tale ending with Kieran. “I’m not sure I’m in the market for happily ever after. But thanks anyway.”

  Paul shrugged. “You give me your notebook, I give you best wishes that your life ends up like an eighteen-hundreds novel. That seems about right.” He smiled with genuine warmth, and Audrey found herself returning it. She stood up.

  “Thanks, Paul.”

  “Thank you, Audrey,” he said, walking her to the door. “And if you change your mind about that drink, please give me a ring.”

  Audrey nodded. “Will do,” she agreed. But inside she was thinking that she was leaving connections at her school behind, and forging ahead with something new entirely. That left her feeling just as breathless as she’d been with Kieran in the bathroom.

  Which was saying something.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Casey would die if she could see me now, Audrey thought as she and Willa elbowed through the crowd at the Wheelhouse Bar. Audrey trailed behind her friend, keeping her eyes fixed on Willa’s dark blonde hair, and worrying she might lose her in the packs of people gathered at the bar, on the dance floor, and at tables all around.

  The Wheelhouse on a Saturday night was the place to be in White Pine. Never mind the wilted cardboard coasters or the discarded peanut shells crunching underfoot or the filmy windows that looked out onto a flat, halogen-lit parking lot.

  “There are so many folks around!” Audrey said above the din of the jukebox. The music made the crowded space feel even more packed. “Half of White Pine must be here.” Audrey had eaten lunch and dinner there hundreds of times—but rarely had she bothered to patronize the place after nine o’clock at night.

  Willa eyed her. “If you think this is a crowd, you should have seen the night Redfish Sushi opened in Midtown Manhattan, and who I pushed out of the way to get a table. Trust me, this is nothing.”

  Willa squeezed into a place at the bar, pulling Audrey along with her. With a few charming smiles at the men all around them, Willa soon had both of them seated on cracked-leather barstools, drink menus in hand.

  “You’re so good at this,” Audrey said, unable to help noticing the way men’s eyes roamed along Willa’s every curve. Her friend had always been glamorous to a degree, even in high school, but these days she was downright sophisticated. Not to mention beautiful. Tonight, Willa was making jeans, boots, and a herringbone sweater look like they were runway-ready.

  Audrey swallowed, feeling suddenly like a cubic zirconia next to a diamond. Willa’s hair was sleek and shiny, whereas Audrey’s was tousled. Willa’s makeup was minimal, whereas Audrey had donned her “Egyptian” eyes again. And Willa was in jeans, whereas Audrey had on a knee-length leather skirt, another one of Willa’s castoffs.

  Willa made it all look so effortless, Audrey thought, her face beginning to warm. The idea of moving to Eagan was suddenly in her mind, if only for the fact that the city was big enough so everyone she knew wouldn’t see her mortifying machinations as she tried to shake up her life a little bit.

  She tried to remember that she’d felt good when she left the house. That shouldn’t change just because she was sitting next to her friend, who’d always known how to dress well.

  “Heya, Audrey.”

  Dave the bartender was smiling at her from the other side of the polished wood. Audrey blinked at the brightness of Dave’s teeth in the dim space. She’d never noticed what a nice smile he had, which seemed odd. The pair had known each other for years. He leaned his muscled forearms on the bar and closed the space between them.

  “Hi, Dave. How’s the asparagus beer coming?” Every year, Dave crafted his special brew for the Asparagus Festival, and each year, people came from all over the state to drink it.

  “Coming along just fine. I’ve got some here if you want to taste it.”

  Audrey felt her eyes widen. “But it’s not supposed to be out until the festival. And the festival’s not for another two weeks.”

  Dave winked at her, and there was something about the motion that sent hot sparks along her skin. Was he…flirting? “If you promise not to tell, I’ll get you some. But this has to be between us. Can you keep a secret?”

  Audrey stared at Dave—at his short, raven-black hair, and at the lines of his handsome face that were a flattering mix of boyish and masculine—and managed to nod. She’d known Dave since middle school. She’d been to the Wheelhouse countless times. And not once—ever—had he winked at her.

  Maybe she wasn’t such a cubic zirconia after all.

  Willa tapped the bar before Dave could walk away. “Hi, Dave. Can I get a cranberry juice?”

  Dave nodded distractedly. “Yah, sure. Coming right up.”

  “He barely even remembered I was here,” Willa said as Dave headed off. “Did you see that? The whole bar faded away and it was just you and Dave Englund.”

  Audrey couldn’t help but smile. “I’m flatt
ered. He’s a nice guy.”

  “Just not the guy you really hoped to flirt with tonight.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, come on. Like you aren’t craning your neck every five minutes to see if Kieran Callaghan is here.”

  Audrey straightened. “I am not.”

  Willa’s green eyes sparked with amusement. “Okay, Tanner. Whatever you say.”

  Audrey was indignant. “Listen, if I have any interest in seeing Kieran, it’s only to pitch him on a business idea I had.”

  “Does this plan involve taking off his clothes?”

  “What? No. It’s about targeting women more as a demographic for sales.”

  Willa faced her friend fully. “Are you trying to tell me that if he walks in here tonight, that the two of your are going to talk about gender demographics?”

  “It makes sense for the dealership. It’s just a business plan.”

  “Well that business plan has you staring at the door an awful lot. Do you know something I don’t?”

  Audrey blushed, wondering how to confess that she’d overheard Kieran telling Fletch about his plans to hit the Wheelhouse that weekend. And when Willa said she wanted to go out this weekend as well, Audrey might have suggested the same bar. But it wasn’t to flirt with Kieran on the off chance she saw him. It was only to have a conversation with him so he’d see the potential of women at the dealership. And to get those lessons scheduled already.

  “I might have heard something about him being here,” she offered, “but I’m interested in seeing him for business reasons only.”

  Willa’s gaze searched Audrey’s face. “You sure about that?”

  Under her friend’s direct stare, she shifted. She wanted to answer that Kieran was in the past, a mistake she wasn’t going to relive anytime soon. But the words wouldn’t come.

  Instead, she grabbed Willa’s hands. “Look, whether I see Kieran or not, I’m over the moon to be out with you on a Saturday night. Your B and B has been so busy, and job stuff with me has been nuts, and it’s nice to get a chance to see you, one on one.”

  Willa squeezed her friend’s hands. “You know that’s the truth.”

  Just then, Dave came back with the drinks. Willa’s asparagus beer was nearly overflowing in a tall pint glass. He set it down in front of her and took care to wipe any overage with a bar towel. Willa’s cranberry juice arrived unceremoniously in a plastic cup.

  “You need anything else,” Dave said, looking straight at Audrey, “you let me know. And remember, that beer is our secret.”

  “I won’t tell a soul,” she said, and lifted the glass in a toast to Dave.

  Willa cleared her throat. “What do you want to bet that pint doesn’t show up on our tab tonight?”

  “Really? You think he’d do that?”

  Willa laughed, just as the jukebox kicked up a fiddle-heavy country song that had people lining up on the dance floor. “Oh, honey. I think he’d give you a whole keg if he thought it might get you interested.” Audrey shook her head, disbelieving. First Paul Frace, and now Dave? It didn’t seem possible.

  She took a sip of her favorite beer and closed her eyes as the tangy, bright ale hit her palate. For fifty-one weeks every year, beer was just beer—but for one week, during the Asparagus Festival, beer was downright heavenly.

  “God, this is good,” she said appreciatively.

  “We can go home now, I think, and call your night a success.”

  “How’s your…” Audrey looked down at her friend’s drink. “Cranberry juice?”

  “Tart. But fine.”

  “No vodka? Don’t you drink cranberry and vo—” She stopped in midsentence as the realization hit her. “Oh my God, are you pregnant?”

  Willa laughed. “I think you just told the entire bar my news.”

  Audrey flew off her barstool to hug her friend. Tears of happiness pooled in the corners of her eyes as she gripped Willa ferociously. “Oh, you are going to be the best mom ever! You and Burk must be so happy. Do you know what you’re having?”

  Willa clutched her friend back. “It’s a little early for that. But I think I’m hoping for a boy, based on what a hellion of a daughter I was.”

  Audrey climbed back up onto her own barstool. “You were not,” she protested. “You just rebelled for a little while. And if your parents were around now, they would be so proud of you. Just like everyone is so proud of you. And happy for you. And I can’t stop talking because I’m so overjoyed at this moment!”

  Audrey touched her pint glass to Willa’s plastic cup. “To new arrivals,” she said, her eyes pricking with fresh tears.

  Willa arched a brow. “Don’t get all sappy and emotional on me right now. You are going to be an aunt, it’s true, but tonight is not about your responsibility. It’s about getting you some. Maybe hooking you up with someone for hot, steamy sex.”

  “Willa!”

  “I’m serious. When is the last time you got laid?”

  Audrey nearly spit out her beer. She swallowed, then gasped, “You sound like Betty!”

  “Sometimes, Betty says things that need saying. When was the last time you were, as they say biblically, with a man?”

  Audrey stared at her golden ale, mortified. But if she couldn’t tell Willa, she couldn’t tell anyone. “Kieran. Five years ago.”

  Willa set down her plastic cup. “For real?”

  “Yes, for real. I wouldn’t make up something that embarrassing.” She didn’t add the part where she’d kept taking her birth control steadfastly, just to cover her bases, even when the possibility of anything happening was so remote.

  “Oh, sweetie,” Willa said, shaking her head, “that is a dry spell. Well, here’s hoping it ends tonight. Or at least that it starts sprinkling in the desert, if you know what I mean.”

  Audrey laughed, just as Dave placed another beer in front of her. “I noticed your asparagus ale was getting a little low,” he said. “Thought I’d refresh it.”

  “Thank you,” Audrey replied, feeling the warmth of the beer spreading through her. “It’s delicious. I love it.”

  “I grilled sixty pounds of asparagus this year,” Dave said, pride turning up the corners of his mouth. “Took me days, but it got a roasted note into the beer that I love. And can you taste the honey? There’s just a tiny bit in there to add sweetness so the whole batch doesn’t get too bitter.”

  Audrey shook her head. “I’m afraid my palate isn’t that sophisticated. I just know that one time each year, I drink something that I wish I could get all the time.”

  Dave reached out and, to Audrey’s surprise, touched the tips of his fingers to hers. “If you’re still around later, when things slow down for me at the bar, maybe we could hit the dance floor?”

  Audrey blinked. In his form-fitting black T-shirt, Dave would hardly be a bad way to end the evening. Lean and tall, Audrey could almost picture how his long, sinewy muscles looked underneath his clothes. She felt a thrill deep in her stomach and smiled.

  “I think that would be nice.”

  Dave turned to wait on another customer, just as someone elbowed into Audrey’s space. “Excuse m—” she started to say, but was cut off by the massive form of Kieran Callaghan standing over her. Golden strands of his dark red hair ignited in the bar’s overhead lights. Behind them, his reflection fragmented in a hundred bottles lined up on the wall. He was everywhere, it seemed. In the warm bar, Audrey suddenly shivered.

  “I’m surprised to see you here,” Kieran said, his eyes raking over her, taking all of her in. No hi, so nice to see you. No fancy meeting you here. It was brusque, even for Kieran. It almost didn’t matter, though. He was right in front of her. They were sharing the same space again.

  Not that Audrey was about to let herself get carried away. “Hello to you, too, Kieran,” she said. “This is my friend Willa Olmstead. She lives in town here and runs the White Pine B and B. Willa, Kieran is my, uh, boss at the dealership.”

  She made the introduction like Will
a had no idea who Kieran was, like they hadn’t just been talking about him. A current of nervous energy had her wondering what to do with her hands. She grabbed her beer glass, then set it down again.

  Poised and elegant, Willa didn’t miss a beat. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “Any friend of Audrey’s is a friend of mine.”

  Kieran glanced at Audrey’s beer, and his eyes widened slightly. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Audrey nodded, realizing that she’d had pints of asparagus beer in the past five years, but that Kieran’s first—and last—swig of it would have been when they were together. “Asparagus beer,” she said, liking that Kieran seemed jolted by the liquid. As if he’d forgotten it existed but seeing it now was dredging up memories long forgotten.

  “Let me get you a pint,” Audrey said, and flagged Dave, who came over quickly.

  “Another pint?” Audrey asked. “For my boss here?”

  Dave barely glanced at Kieran. He let his fingers touch Audrey’s for the briefest of moments. “Coming right up.”

  Kieran’s jawline hardened. “You know him?”

  “That’s Dave Englund. He makes the asparagus beer every year. He’s a friend.”

  “Friend?” Kieran replied, his voice rough. The sound brought the hairs on the back of her neck to attention. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

  His reaction was unexpected. Was Kieran…jealous? Audrey glanced at Willa, who was sipping her cranberry juice in an effort to keep from smirking.

  “He asked me to dance later,” Audrey said with an offhanded shrug.

  She wasn’t sure what she expected Kieran to do. Maybe shrug in return, tell her to have fun. Or maybe just stalk away. But the next thing she knew, he’d placed both hands on Audrey’s waist, lifting her off the barstool in one motion. “Excuse us,” he said to Willa. “I’d like to get a few numbers in before Dave Englund.”

  Audrey started to protest, but the words died on her lips when Kieran laced his fingers through hers. It was more thrilling than holding hands should be.