Our First Kiss

by Judy Lynn Hubbard

  “It’s just a job, Nathan,” she whispered.

  “A career,” he corrected. An increasingly burdensome career.

  “Even a career we love can become all-consuming if we let it.” She spoke from experience.

  “Maybe I don’t have a problem with that.” He glanced around hoping to see their food coming so he could escape her probing questions.

  “Maybe you should. Life’s too short to let it pass you by. Haven’t you ever wanted to find a nice woman, settle down and have some kids?” He remained noticeably silent, staring intently at the contents of his glass, prompting her to change the subject again. “Do you like basketball?”

  “What?” He glanced up from his drink, baffled at sudden shift in direction.

  “Basketball. Do you like it?” she repeated, smiling.

  “You do that very well,” he said, intending to flatter, without answering her question.

  “Tools of the trade.” She smiled.

  “Stockbroker, right?” He was more comfortable talking about her.

  “Correct.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I love it,” she enthused. “My day’s always different, always interesting—never a dull moment.”

  “You thrive on change,” he stated, not asking. That was very apparent to anyone having the pleasure to meet her.

  “And challenges,” she said and glanced at him pointedly. “I prefer more continuity in my personal life, though.”

  His heart sank a little at her easy admission. That was one thing he could never give her. Absurdly, he wished he could.

  “Most people do,” he shortly agreed.

  “Do you?” She tilted her head, and her thick mane of hair fell to one side.

  “As I said before, I don’t have much of a personal life,” he truthfully responded. “Work takes up most of my time.”

  “That leads to a lonely existence, Nathan.”

  “I suppose.” He sighed, eyes growing distant. He knew how true her words were—how true he feared they would always be for him.

  “Are you?” She watched him closely.

  “Am I what?” He refocused on her.

  “Lonely?” She reached across and covered his hand with hers, which relaxed for a few seconds before he pulled away.

  “I’m content.” He realized he was trying to convince himself rather than her.

  “Evasive,” she murmured.

  “You’re tenacious,” he countered, and she smiled.

  “I told you I was,” she said and shrugged. “I won’t let you be lonely while you’re here, Nathan,” she softly promised.

  “I’m sure you won’t,” he agreed with a smirk. “Marcy Johnson, I don’t quite know what to make of you.” He paused before grudgingly admitting as their food was placed before them. “You are something else.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” She acknowledged the validity of his words. “You know what else I am?” She picked up her napkin and placed it on her lap.

  “What?” He ventured to ask.

  “I’m all yours. All you have to do is admit that you want me, reach out your hand and take me,” she bluntly responded when they were alone before picking up her fork and cutting into her buttery soft chicken.

  His mouth dropped open in shock as he digested her stunning words, and he was unable to stop it. She had completely floored him with her unabashed forwardness and determination. She also excited, enthralled and enchanted him.

  “You shouldn’t say things like that, Marcy.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because people will take advantage of you if you let them.”

  “Is that what you plan to do?”

  “No.”

  She sighed regretfully. “That’s a shame.”

  “Marcy Johnson, you are—” he paused before admitting “—unlike any woman I’ve ever met.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “Definitely good,” he said and smiled. “There’s nothing fake about you.”

  “What you see is what you get, Nathan.”

  What he saw, he wanted—badly. Dammit, why did he have to return home and run headlong into this fascinating, exciting woman who appeared to want nothing more than the chance to make him happy, and why did he want nothing more than the time to let her try?

  “It’s fate,” she whispered, laughing softly at his shocked expression when she answered his silent question.

  Chapter 2

  Though he tried to prepare himself for his next meeting with Marcy, she still knocked every ounce of breath out of his lungs when their eyes locked at the rehearsal dinner for Natasha and Damien later that evening. She was dressed in a black knee-length leather skirt with a wicked slit up the back, matching tight-fitting jacket and high-heeled black leather pumps. All of that raven hair was piled high on top of her head in an intentionally careless bun, allowing tendrils to escape to caress her face and nape. She looked lovely and desirable.

  “Hi, handsome,” her sultry voice greeted him as he entered the small ballroom of the restaurant.

  “Marcy.” He nodded at her politely as he unsuccessfully tried to still the rapid beating of his heart.

  “Did you miss me?” He looked wonderful in his black suit, white shirt and black-and-gray tie.

  “It’s only been a few hours since I last saw you?” Time he had spent trying to unsuccessfully stop thinking about her—the look of her, the feel of her fingers on his, the exotic smell of her.

  “I know.” She leaned close and whispered confidentially in his ear, “I missed you terribly.”

  His knees almost buckled at her words and as the provocative scent she wore wafted up his nostrils and her soft body brushed lightly yet maddeningly against his. He fought with every ounce of strength he possessed to keep from crushing that curvaceous body to his and fastening his mouth to her luscious lips—lips he knew from experience were soft, decadent and addictive.

  Unable to help himself, he groaned. “What is that perfume you’re wearing?”

  She leaned slightly back to stare into his intense eyes. “Chanel.” She smiled and leaned in closer again. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s...nice.”

  “I’m glad you approve.” She deliberately ran her fingers across her exposed collarbone drawing his burning gaze there.

  Who did he think he was fooling? Judging by his darkening eyes, watching the slow progression of her finger across her skin, he thought it was much more than nice. She secretly vowed to buy up every bottle she could get her hands on in the morning.

  “Marcy, darling, bring Nathan over here,” her mother ordered.

  “Coming, Mom.” She smiled up at him. “I’m afraid it’s time to mingle.”

  She thankfully moved back from him but grabbed his hand, shooting tiny thrills of pleasure up his arm. This woman was deadlier than any adversary he had ever faced in the field of combat—and that was saying something.

  “That’s what we’re here for.” He was proud his voice sounded steady.

  “But there is later...” She let her sentence trail off suggestively.

  They walked over to stand beside his sister Nicole, who was talking to the guests of honor, Damien and Natasha. Nathan’s parents, Linda and Lincoln, were conversing with Marcy’s mother and father, Margaret and Michael, a short distance away. Marcy’s smile widened as she glanced at their matchmaking mothers who seemed particularly interested in watching the interplay between her and Nathan; it appeared they were their next project.

  “I’m starving. What’s for dinner, Mama?” Natasha asked.

  “Seafood, all different kinds.” Linda smiled at her daughter.

  “Mmm, I can’t wait,” Natasha said as her eyes sparkled expectantly.

  “This one has
really been developing an appetite lately.” Damien wrapped his arms around his fiancée’s waist from behind.

  “Love makes me hungry.” She smiled as he kissed her neck lingeringly.

  “When Nathan and I were shopping today, we had some wonderful seafood at lunch—well, he did. I managed to steal a bite or two off of his plate.” Marcy’s statement caused all eyes to focus on her and Nathan.

  “You and Nathan went shopping?” Nicole’s mouth dropped open as did her sister’s and mother’s.

  “Yes, for Natasha and Dami’s wedding present,” Marcy confirmed.

  “And she dragged me from store to store when she already had their present picked out at the last store we went to,” Nathan good-naturedly interjected.

  “Don’t you just hate shopping with women?” Damien sympathized, kissing Natasha on the cheek to soften his words.

  “Oh, you!” Natasha tapped his chest lightly in admonishment.

  “They never know what they want,” Lincoln agreed as the men levitated toward each other.

  “And they drag you around from store to store for hours and hours and then finally decide on something they saw at the first store you were in,” Michael chimed in.

  “I don’t know why we don’t leave you at home. You’re always fretting about how much money we spend.” Linda added her thoughts as the women, except for Natasha and Marcy, congregated together glaring at their respective man.

  “Aren’t they just?” Margaret agreed, smiling tolerantly at her husband, Michael. “But if the present is for them, no amount of time is too great and the sky is the limit on how much we spend.”

  “Amen,” Nicole agreed, and Natasha shook her head.

  “Boy, did I open a can of worms,” Marcy whispered to Nathan, whom she noted still stood by her side.

  “Are you kidding?” Nathan chuckled. “They’re having a blast.”

  Marcy glanced at everyone as they engaged in heated, though pleasant, banter about the subject and laughed in agreement. They were thankfully saved from further escalation of the tiny gender war brewing when dinner was wheeled in. As everyone took their seats at the rectangular table, Marcy was dismayed to find herself sitting by her brother a table’s length away from Nathan. Who had made these ridiculous seating arrangements?

  Nicole, who was sitting by her brother, glanced at Marcy’s sunken expression and sprang into action, “Look at us—Johnsons at one end and Carters at the other. We need to break this up.”

  “You’re right, Nicole,” Marcy agreed, trying not to burst into a radiant smile.

  “Marcy, you take my seat by Nathan, and I’ll take yours by Damien.”

  Marcy quickly stood and gave Nicole a wink as they passed each other. Nicole mouthed, “Don’t mention it.”

  Once she was seated, Nicole continued to rearrange people. “Momma, you should sit by Mr. Johnson down here. Mrs. Johnson, why don’t you go up and sit by Dad.”

  Nicole received tolerant smiles as people followed her directions. Her mother’s eyes held understanding and approval at her youngest daughter’s actions. Nicole continued to survey the table with a slight determined frown.

  “Now, that’s better. Isn’t it?” Nicole asked and was pleased when everyone agreed—except a frowning Nathan she noted with a smile.

  “I am glad you didn’t move me to the opposite end away from my fiancé.” Natasha laughed at her sister.

  “Please, I would need an army to do that,” Nicole said and chuckled.

  “You’re so right.” Damien pulled Natasha closer and kissed her lips.

  “Save some of that for the honeymoon,” Michael suggested with a laugh.

  “Oh, I think we’ll manage just fine.” Damien had Natasha’s cheeks reddening,

  “Damien!” Natasha scolded and he laughingly kissed her again.

  “She doesn’t know what to do with me,” he informed everyone when he lifted his head.

  “We Johnsons can be incorrigible,” Marcy replied, staring at Nathan, who refused to glance her way.

  “A trait you both inherited from your father,” Margaret assured, and the occupants of the room dissolved in laughter again.

  “Are you planning on ignoring me all night, Nathan?” As the happy banter around the table continued, Marcy turned amused eyes to his annoyed ones.

  “I was debating it,” he tightly replied.

  “I had nothing to do with rearranging everyone. That was your sister’s idea,” she reminded.

  “Mmm-hmm.” His tone stated he didn’t believe she was as innocent as she professed to be. He glanced down the table, meeting his sister’s dancing eyes. He had plans to pay her back later. Not that he really minded sitting next to Marcy, but he was trying to do the right thing and stay away from her—for her sake and his.

  “Look at it this way. You can use this time to sample some more of my perfume,” she offered, moving closer.

  He inwardly groaned. That was the last thing he needed. He studied her beautiful face, and his dark mood intensified as she obviously fought to hide a smile.

  “Yippee.” He nearly growled the word.

  “A toast to Natasha and Damien.” Michael stood with a glass raised. “Two pieces of the puzzle of love who fit perfectly together. May they share a long happy life filled with love and hopefully soon the pitter-patter of little feet.”

  “Cheers.” Everyone agreed and raised their glasses.

  “We’ll see what we can do about your first grandchild, Dad,” Damien promised as he and Natasha unlinked their wrists and lowered their glasses—eyes twinkling because of their shared secret about Natasha’s condition.

  “Wouldn’t it be nice if we all gathered together soon to celebrate another union of our children?” Margaret candidly suggested.

  “That would be lovely, Margaret.” Linda followed the direction of her eyes.

  “You never know what could happen.” Marcy chuckled as she glanced at Nathan’s slightly uncomfortable, tense features before smiling brilliantly at their mothers.

  “I’ll start designing your wedding dress,” Nicole teased.

  “And Linda and I can begin on the guest list and the menu,” Margaret excitedly began.

  “Hey, wait a minute!” Nathan indignantly interrupted, and everyone laughed heartily—everyone except Damien.

  Marcy met her brother’s narrowed eyes and gave him a wink. He was going to have trouble sharing her, but she would help him through the rough spots. He and Nathan would hit it off; she was determined about that.

  “Linda, I’ll call you tomorrow,” Margaret promised.

  “Please do.” Linda smiled down the table at her.

  Lincoln and Michael shook their heads at each other across the table as their wives made the union of Marcy and Nathan their new project. They picked up their glasses in a silent, resigned toast to their respective spouses.

  * * *

  “What do you think they are talking about so intensely?” Nicole asked as she stood with Marcy and Natasha watching Nathan and Damien from across the room.

  “Me, of course.” Marcy smiled. “Dami is playing big brother, reading Nathan the riot act.”

  “I’ll go over and put a stop to this,” Natasha promised, but Marcy touched her arm halting her.

  “It’s okay, Natasha. Let Dami assert himself. He will, anyway.” She chuckled in resignation. “Better now when I can keep an eye on him. Besides, it is rather sweet, don’t you think?” She stared lovingly at her brother’s intense face.

  “I do,” Nicole agreed. “Poor Nathan. He doesn’t know what to do about any of this,” she sympathized, eyes settling on her brother as he took a gulp of his drink.

  “He’ll figure it out. I guarantee that,” Marcy confidently replied.

  Natasha frowned as she glanced across a
t her brother. He didn’t seem upset as he listened to Damien. That was good. Damien glanced at her, and she shook her head at him in exasperation. He blew her a kiss before returning his attention to Nathan.

  “I do wish Dami would stop monopolizing Nathan’s time.” Marcy sighed. “I need to make my next move.”

  “Poor Nathan. He doesn’t have a chance.” Nicole shook her head at the determination etched on her friend’s face.

  “He doesn’t need one,” Marcy quickly responded, and they all chuckled as they glanced across the room at their respective brothers.

  “Marcy can be a handful,” Damien informed Nathan.

  “No? Really?” Damien and Nathan laughed.

  “I see you’ve already found that out.”

  “I have. She’s very determined.”

  “She’s also very honest—too honest for her own good sometimes,” Damien continued, glancing across at his sister as she stood with Natasha and Nicole.

  “Yes, she is,” Nathan agreed. “She’s very beautiful,” Nathan couldn’t help admitting as he, too, glanced across the room at the subject of their conversation.

  “You’re attracted to her.” Damien returned cool eyes to his fiancée’s brother.

  “Who wouldn’t be?” Nathan proclaimed quickly. Then he added, “I know she’s your sister, but even you must admit she’s a knockout.”

  “I do, but she’s not a toy or a diversion.” Damien’s eyes narrowed in warning.

  “I never thought she was.” Nathan returned his cool gaze unflinchingly.

  “Good,” Damien said and nodded as he silently studied the other man. He thought they could become good friends but not if he did anything to harm his sister.

  “I don’t want to hurt Marcy,” Nathan assured him, sensing Damien’s thoughts.

  “Then don’t,” Damien simply ordered.

  “I don’t plan on it,” Nathan said, but even as he uttered the words, he knew that was a promise he might not be able to keep.

  “Are you enjoying being back in New York?” Damien changed subjects, having said what he had needed to.

  “Very much.”