Our First Kiss

by Judy Lynn Hubbard

  “I don’t know who Alexander James is, but I’m very proud of you.” Nathan smiled.

  “He owns one of the biggest fashion houses in Europe,” she laughingly informed him. “Thank you for being proud of me.”

  “What about your love life? Are you seeing anyone? I expected to have to threaten at least ten men with bodily harm when I got home,” he teased.

  “You’re safe on that front,” she said and laughed. “There’s no one special in my life—yet.”

  “Yet? Does that mean you have someone in mind?”

  “No, but I do plan to fall in love and get married someday,” she solemnly vowed.

  “You say it so easily.” He envied her.

  “Of course I do. What’s to be afraid of?” She frowned slightly at his tone. “Is that why you’re pushing Marcy away, because you’re afraid of commitment?” She skillfully steered the conversation back to where she wanted it to be.

  “No, I’m not.” He took a bite of his pie. “Maybe I just don’t like her.”

  Nicole laughed in disbelief. “You looked as if you liked her very well a few days ago at the wedding.”

  “I was just being nice,” he insisted.

  “Of course you were.” Nicole chuckled when her obvious disbelief at Nathan’s previous statement was met with a frown from him. “So, have you seen her since then?”

  “No, why would I?” At her amused expression, he nearly growled, “I wish everyone would stop trying to marry me off to Marcy Johnson. We’ve just met.”

  “That’s true,” Nicole agreed. Then she quickly added, “But you two make such a striking pair. Don’t you think she’s attractive?”

  “She’s beautiful,” he admitted, noisily placing his fork on his plate. Here we go, he sighed inwardly.

  “Don’t you have fun when you’re with her?”

  “She irritates me,” he quickly asserted—too quickly.

  “All the better.” Nicole smiled as she sipped her coffee.

  “Nicole...” he started, but her cell phone ringing interrupted him.

  “Sorry. I meant to turn this thing off.” She retrieved her phone from her purse. “Hello?” She paused listening. “Funny you should call, Nathan and I were just talking about you.” She paused again before chuckling. “We’re having lunch. Mmm-hmm. Yes, of course he is.” Nicole smiled at him and then laughed.

  “If you’re going to discuss me over the phone, have the decency to do it in private.” He frowned when she waved her hand at him in dismissal.

  “Yes, that was him,” Nicole affirmed around a chuckle. “I’d love to. I’ll stop by your office after lunch, around one-thirty? Okay? Yes, just a moment.” She handed him the phone.

  “I don’t want to talk to her,” he refused, retreating as if it were a poisonous snake.

  “Are you so afraid of Marcy that you can’t even speak to her on the phone?” Nicole goaded, and he reluctantly took the phone from her.

  “Yes?” He spoke curtly into the receiver. “No... I... If you... How can I answer if you keep hurling questions at me?” He sighed in frustration. “No, I’m not in a bad mood.”

  “You could have fooled me,” Nicole whispered, taking another bite of her pie as he glared at her.

  “I haven’t decided yet. No, I... Hello?” He cursed under his breath and handed her the phone back.

  “Is she gone?” Nicole hid a smile.

  “Yes, way gone.”

  “What did she want?” She placed the phone in her bag.

  “She invited me to dinner with her parents tonight.” He sighed heavily, taking another drink of his coffee, suddenly wishing it was whiskey.

  “Are you going to go?”

  “She hung up before I could refuse.” He scratched his chin, which he always did when he was frustrated.

  “Good for her.” Nicole grinned when she received another scowl. “Nathan, if you keep frowning like that, you’ll frighten away any woman who might potentially be interested in you,” she wisely advised.

  “It doesn’t seem to work with Marcy.”

  “Well, Marcy isn’t any woman,” Nicole unnecessarily informed him.

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I don’t think you’ll easily frighten her away.” Nicole placed the last piece of her pie into her mouth.

  “Is that what you think I’m trying to do?”

  “Aren’t you?” she countered, raising an eyebrow.

  “I just don’t have time for a serious relationship right now,” he evaded.

  “So you admit if you allowed yourself to you could have something serious with Marcy,” she inferred.

  “Will you stop twisting my words around?” he angrily hissed.

  “They’re your words and feelings, not mine.” Nicole reached across the table to touch his fisted hand. “Nathan, I love you,” she whispered in a voice she knew always made him putty in her hands.

  “I love you, too, you traitor.” He smiled as he brought her hand to his lips.

  “You know we all just want to see you happy,” she continued and he sighed.

  “I know that,” he admitted. “How would you feel if two families were interfering in your personal life?”

  “I wouldn’t like it.” Before he could respond, she continued. “But there comes a time when you have to give in to fate.”

  “And what is my fate? To be with Marcy Johnson?”

  “A lot of people seem to think so.”

  He sighed. “Doesn’t it matter what I think?”

  “Of course it does, but for some reason, you’re fighting your feelings for Marcy, and that’s why everyone else feels obligated to get involved,” she wisely asserted.

  “Maybe I don’t feel anything for her,” he lied, and received a disbelieving look that would have done their mother proud.

  “If you truly meant that, everyone would back off,” she softly informed him.

  “I do mean it,” he firmly stated, replacing his credit card in his wallet when the waiter returned it to him.

  “No, you don’t,” she softly contradicted. “Your mouth says you don’t want her in your life, but when the two of you are together, your eyes, your body and your demeanor all say something else.”

  “Well, I’m just an open book, aren’t I?” He didn’t try to hide his annoyance at her intuitiveness.

  “No, quite the contrary. You’re a mystery, and in case you didn’t know, women love solving mysteries,” she advised and stood. “Thank you for lunch...even though you made me eat sushi.” She punched his arm playfully as he stood, and they walked out of the restaurant.

  “You’re welcome, even though I had to listen to unsolicited advice.” He pulled a strand of her hair in retaliation.

  “Be glad it was from me and not from Momma or Mrs. Johnson,” she informed, placing on her gloves.

  “Oh, I am.” He rolled his eyes heavenward at the thought.

  “Do you want me to give Marcy a message?” She paused and added purposefully, “Or would you like to tag along?”

  “No to both questions,” he sarcastically declined. “Tell the folks I will be out to the house in a few days.”

  “Better sooner than later or Momma will come gunning for you.” Nicole kissed his cheek, and then she was off.

  As he watched her weave through the busy streets, he pondered her wise words. For one so young, she was very intuitive and just as annoying. He smiled lovingly as she disappeared around a corner—a smile that metamorphosed into a self-derisive sneer as he realized he did want to go with her so that he could see that tenacious, gorgeously seductive Marcy Johnson again.

  * * *

  Nathan glanced at his uneasy expression in the mirror as he finished knotting his gray-and-black tie. Satisfied, he turned away and re
turned to the bedroom, sitting down on the bed as he donned his black leather shoes before standing and putting on his charcoal-gray suit jacket.

  He just didn’t want to be rude—that was the reason he had accepted Marcy’s dinner invitation. He wasn’t the least bit excited that he would be spending the evening with her. He placed a white handkerchief in his breast pocket and took his black wool coat out of the closet.

  He was just being a gentleman like his mother had always taught him to be. He’d have dinner with her parents, come home and would never see or think about Marcy again. That’s what he’d do, he resolutely decided, and then he laughed bitterly.

  Who did he think he was kidding? He couldn’t wait to see her, to smell that wicked perfume she insisted on wearing just to drive him mad, to touch that soft satiny skin and taste her luscious lips. How the hell had this happened? He had come home for a visit with his family, and all he had seemed to accomplish was to get tangled up with a charming, beautiful she-devil whose very name made his blood boil, and the more he saw her, the more intrigued and ensnared he became.

  He needed to stay away from her. It shouldn’t be so hard to make that happen; then why was that simple task next to impossible for him to accomplish? He knew what he had to do, yet even as he picked up the phone to cancel their date he hesitated because despite knowing right from wrong, he wanted to see Marcy tonight. You can’t start anything with her, Nathan, so make the phone call and cancel! Before he could dial her number—which he was annoyed at himself for memorizing—someone knocked on the door, and he walked over to answer it.

  “Hi, handsome.” Marcy touched his arm as she leaned over and kissed his lips lightly but long enough to make him nearly groan.

  As always, she looked stunning in a midnight-blue dress that reached her calves. Though the majority of the dress was hidden by her cream-colored wool coat, what he was able to glimpse accentuated her feminine curves splendidly.

  “Marcy, I was just about to call you...” His voice trailed off when he inhaled the sultry perfume she always wore, which fogged his head.

  “To cancel, no doubt.” She threw her bag on a table and smiled at his shocked expression.

  “Why would you think that?” She laughed a carefree sound that ripped through him and made him want to crush his mouth to those curved rose-colored lips.

  “A little birdie told me,” she whispered, picking her bag up again. “Are you ready to go?”

  “I suppose.” He didn’t sound at all enthused.

  “Nathan, it’s only dinner with my parents.” She made it sound so innocent when he knew nothing could be further from the truth.

  “Is it?” He pulled on his coat and opened the door following her out.

  “What else would it be?” she sweetly asked as they walked to the elevator.

  “An ambush,” he muttered under his breath as he followed her. She turned and chuckled at him leaving little doubt that she had heard his dire prediction.

  * * *

  They were all gathered at the dinner table an hour later. Nathan had to admit he was enjoying himself. Marcy’s parents reminded him of his; they obviously loved each other and their daughter very much. Now more than ever sitting around the table with them, he could see himself as a part of Marcy’s world, which is what he imagined she had in mind when she invited him tonight.

  Her mother and Nathan talked avidly about the law. She learned that he had practiced criminal and corporate law and really preferred corporate. Marcy listened to the two of them talk over statutes and briefs. She sat back and enjoyed herself. Her mother got more out of him about his work in twenty minutes than she had been able to accomplish in a week or so.

  “Nathan, if you decide in the near future to relocate back to New York—” she glanced pointedly at her daughter and then back to him “—there’s an opening in my firm. I’d be happy to put in a good word for you.”

  Michael shook his head at his wife. She was really laying it on thick.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Johnson. That’s very kind of you.” Nathan felt the ropes that had been carefully lassoed around him once he walked in the door beginning to tighten.

  “I’m not just being kind. I mean it. We could use another bright attorney,” she emphasized. “I’m working on this case now that’s very challenging.”

  For the next few minutes, Nathan was happy to engage in intense legal talk with Margaret. At least while talking shop, she wasn’t prying into his personal life.

  Marcy smiled at her father. He shook his head, and she chuckled, causing Nathan and Margaret’s eyes to refocus on them.

  “Sweetie, do you have the feeling you’re in the middle of a Perry Mason episode?” Michael winked at her from across the table.

  “Yes, one of the more perplexing ones,” Marcy agreed.

  “Uh-oh, Nathan. I think they’re not so subtly trying to tell us to lay off the lawyer talk.” Margaret chuckled.

  “No, you two go ahead. Dad and I will just start talking about the Dow Jones, NASDAQ, interest rates and—”

  “No, please!” Margaret held up her hands in defeat and everyone laughed. “When we usually get together they outnumber me, so that’s all I hear about,” she moaned, raising her eyes heavenward.

  “Ah, I see,” Nathan sympathized.

  “Don’t get us wrong. We’re very supportive about each other’s careers.” Michael grasped his wife’s hand, and she smiled at him, nodding in agreement.

  “We just don’t understand a thing the other says when we start talking work,” Margaret concluded and motioned to the food-laden table, “Nathan, can I get you anything else?”

  “No, thank you, Mrs. Johnson. Dinner was delicious, but I’m stuffed.”

  “Thank you, but compliments go to Michael.” She proudly kissed his cheek. “I am banned from the kitchen, much to my relief.”

  “My compliments, sir.” Nathan chuckled and glanced at him.

  “Thank you, son,” Michael said and smiled.

  “That clam chowder tasted just like my mother’s,” Nathan marveled.

  “It should. It was her recipe.” Michael laughed.

  Nathan’s eyes widened in shock. “She gave you her recipe?”

  “They swapped dozens of them at our pre-New Year’s party.” Marcy smiled.

  “She must like you very much. She guards her recipes with her life,” Nathan seriously replied.

  “We hit it off,” Michael agreed. “All four of us have become good friends, and your mother and Margaret...well, let’s just say that they have similar hobbies.” He then winked at his wife.

  “Really, Michael!” Margaret rapped his hand lightly. Nathan, who was beginning to relax, now seemed a little more tense thanks to her husband’s ill-timed words. She would get him for this later.

  “How much longer will you be in New York, Nathan?” Margaret tactfully changed the subject.

  “Two or three weeks.” He lowered his coffee cup.

  “And then it’s back to Washington?” Margaret folded her napkin and placed it on the tabletop, eyes intently focused on him.

  “Yes, ma’am. Back to work.”

  “Unless a reason to stay presents itself.” She glanced at her daughter.

  Nathan cleared his throat. “I’m due back on time and can’t prolong my vacation.”

  “Well—” Margaret smiled knowingly “—never say never, Nathan.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Nathan thought it best to keep his response short.

  “What about your personal life?” Margaret single-mindedly continued with her seemingly innocent questions, and Nathan felt the noose tighten a little bit more. “Is there a special woman in Washington?”

  “Mother.” Marcy feigned outrage.

  “What?” Margaret arched an eyebrow. “Is it a state secret?”


  “No, of course not.” Nathan shifted uncomfortably. “I...I don’t have much of a personal life,” he admitted and then realized his mistake.

  “Well, that’s a shame.” Margaret frowned in disbelief. “A handsome man like you?”

  Marcy’s shoulders shook with laughter. She hid a smile behind her napkin and skillfully avoided Nathan’s pointed gaze.

  “My job keeps me pretty busy,” Nathan offered, rubbing his chin. He saw where Marcy got her tenacity.

  Michael shook his head as he watched his wife skillfully pump Nathan for information. She hadn’t made partner for nothing; she had an unsurpassed knack of finding out what she wanted to know. Poor Nathan was finding that out firsthand.

  “All work and no play, Nathan,” Margaret chided. “What you need is a special woman in your life.” She paused and glanced from him to her daughter and came to the point she had been dancing around all evening. “I think that you and our Marcy—”

  “Margaret Johnson, will you stop browbeating Nathan,” Michael softly, but firmly, interrupted his wife.

  “I was doing no such thing,” Margaret indignantly responded. “I was simply trying—”

  “To do what, dear? Keep the conversation lively?” Michael’s eyes twinkled with merriment.

  She narrowed her eyes in warning. “Really, Michael!”

  “It’s quite all right,” Nathan interjected, not wanting to start an argument.

  Marcy touched his arm and shook her head negatively. She was smiling, so apparently everything was fine.

  “You see?” Margaret glared at her husband. “Nathan wasn’t offended. He understands what I was trying to do.”

  “Yes, I do,” Nathan dryly agreed. He glanced at Marcy, who was being noticeably quiet; she smiled innocently at him—that little devil.

  “Why don’t we go into the living room for a drink?” Michael suggested. “I promise to try and curb my wife’s curiosity.”

  “I will deal with you later, Michael Johnson,” Margaret promised, and her husband smiled at the angry glint in her eyes, which only infuriated her more.

  Where was Linda when she needed her? No one was being the least bit helpful. Nathan was skillfully evasive, Marcy was being understandably quiet and watchful and Michael—well, as she had promised, she would certainly deal with him later.