Kiss Kiss

by Various Authors

  Lisa Jordan, thank you for the GORGEOUS new cover. I love it SO much. Your style, your creativity, your generous soul--you are the whole package, my friend. Thank you so much. I feel so lucky to work with you!

  Thank you to my friends and family who took the time to read the original version: Beth, Calia, Maggi, Kim, Lisa, Jules, Julie, Sara Z., Fred, Colleen, Lex, Sarah, Kelly, the hubs, and my wonderful Mom, Deb. You each helped to build my confidence and many gave great suggestions to help make the story better.

  Colleen Hoover, you helped me to learn one of the greatest lessons in this entire experience...that I have to tell the story that makes me happy. I will always be grateful to you for putting things in perspective for me and for teaching me to follow my gut.

  Kim August, thank you so much for all of your wonderful ideas regarding the story and also for your unbridled enthusiasm for my 'career' as a writer, including planning a book release party for me in order to celebrate. You are an incredible cheerleader! I will also never erase the voicemail you left me....it's just too special.

  Melissa Perea, wow....just wow. You are an unbelievably talented beta reader, writer, and you can see the tiniest plot change making a huge difference. Our brainstorming sessions were so much fun. After talking with you, I always felt ready to dive into the story and make it just a little bit better. You inspire me.

  Kyla Linde, thank you so much for all of the wonderful advice about marketing a book, formatting it properly, etc. And I cannot thank you enough for sharing Bouquet Toss with your many fans.

  Janna Mashburn, you are such a gift, such a blessing in my life. You encouraged me, cheered me on, fell in love with the characters and helped me to do right by them. You, my sweet Book Twin, helped to create the story that is Bouquet Toss, and I will be forever grateful to you. I will also always be thankful for those two broken Nooks...our kindles brought us together and it is because of our taste in reading that we now have decades of friendship to look forward to!!

  Chris Brown, the love of my life (and the inspiration for Tanner). I am so lucky to have you in my corner. Thank you for your flexibility and support, as well as your amazing proofreading skills and ideas. I love you so.

  I had the idea for this book almost ten years ago. I began writing, but then stopped...life got in the way, and I lost faith in myself. And then, I read a book called "The Opportunist" by Tarryn Fisher and it changed me. The passion I felt for the characters and the story was like nothing I had ever experienced. Tarryn, I cannot thank you enough for renewing my love of reading and writing. It is because of your unique gifts as an author that I was inspired to find the story I had abandoned years ago and do my best to make it something worth reading. You also introduced me to an incredible online community of readers and writers. And it is because of you that I know many of the people who are mentioned above. You have changed my life and I will forever be grateful for the impact you have had on me and my future as a writer. Thank you.

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  About the Author:

  Melissa Brown is a hopeless romantic living in the Chicago suburbs with her husband Chris and their two children. Aside from writing, she enjoys reading and baking. She also has a slight obsession with actor Henry Cavill.

  Connect with Melissa Brown online:

  Melissa's Blog:

  http://melissabrownauthor.blogspot.com/

  Facebook page:

  https://www.facebook.com/MelissaBrownAuthor

  Goodreads Author Profile:

  http://www.goodreads.com/melissabrown

  Twitter:

  LissaLou77

  #

  Copyright © 2012 by Melissa Brown

  Second edition Copyright © 2013 by Melissa Brown

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  #

  Evan's Story continues in Champagne Toast:

  Prologue

  Kate

  May 7, 2011

  What in the hell is he doing back here? I haven't seen him since that night...that horrible night when he vanished from my life and left me behind to wallow in this bar. Every night I wipe down the tables, hoping that I'll see him walk through that door.

  And now, he's back. But, he's not alone. Slinking slowly to a dark corner table, I sit and watch as they make their way to the bar. He orders drinks as she smiles at him. Instantly, I hate her. Her long auburn hair falls past her shoulders in ringlets. It's messy, almost clinging to the sides of her face. He must have taken her dancing.

  They look happy, and yet, everything I know about him tells me that he's nervous. Sensing that another woman evokes emotion in him shatters me. It magnifies just how much I miss him and how I've made a horrible mess of things. He laughs and touches her wrist lightly as she speaks. I want to strangle her.

  You're not good enough for him, Kate.

  That voice inside my head, she's right. I was never good enough. I always knew that one day he'd find someone else, maybe even someone like her. Someone simple and pretty, a school teacher or a librarian. He'd leave me before I had the chance to leave him and where would I be? Right here, miserable and alone.

  Little Miss Redhead looks concerned. Evan is spinning his beer bottle as he speaks. I've seen him do this a hundred times. Any time he was pissed at me. We'd sit at the bar and I'd ask him what was wrong. He wouldn't look at me, he'd just spin that damn bottle. Is he thinking of me now? Is he telling her about me? Shaking these thoughts out of my brain, I continue to observe as their conversation once again turns light. Something in the pit of my stomach aches. I ache for him.

  You're not good enough for him, Kate.

  I know that, goddamnit. I know. But still...I want him.

  Chapter 1

  Evan

  June 30, 2012

  My mother always told me that I was the epitome of a Gemini. Two personalities. One half charming, insightful and entertaining. The other half...well, the other half is darker, more sinister, more sarcastic. As a kid, I brushed it off, thinking everyone had different sides to them. How was I any different? But as an adult, I get it. I'm a little different than the average person. And now, as I sit here with my friends, Daphne and Tanner, watching them in their happy fresh-from-their-honeymoon glow, I feel that other half coming about. I have to push him down, way down. I don't want them to know that side of me.

  It's the dark side of me that sits here, having drinks with my friends and the charming woman they've set me up with...one of many with whom they have tried to make a match. But, she can't hold my attention. It's forcing me to sit and think about her, about everything that happened, and about how much I still want answers. I want to know why she threw it all away. I want to know if he was worth it. But, most importantly, I want to know where she is.

  And so, we sit here, in the bar where I used to work. Where I first met Kate, the only woman I've ever really loved. Doing my best to be sneaky, I glance around the bar while Daphne is speaking, trying to see if she might still be here. But, it's been two years. A lot can happen during that time. She could be seeing someone else, and knowing her, she's probably seeing a lot of someones. But, what if she isn't?

  "Evan, you're being so quiet," Daphne teases me, her eyebrow raised inquisitively. I really care about my friend, Daphne, honestly I do. But, sometimes she pisses me off when she puts me on the spot. It's almost as i
f she knows I'm thinking of Kate. She doesn't want me to go back there again. She wants me to move on, to find someone new, someone like her, someone who won't demolish me. But, I can't.

  What Daphne doesn't seem to get is that she and her new husband, Tanner, are lucky. Not everyone finds their soulmate. Not everyone is capable of the kind of happiness they've created. Yeah, yeah, they had their problems and Daphne went through a lot of emotional shit. I know that she carried a ton of baggage from her ex into their relationship. I know Tanner almost walked away and Daph had to fight like hell to get him back. I know all of this, I was there. But, they've never done anything selfish or malicious to one another. I have and Kate certainly has. That's the difference. When we were together, we had our share of great moments; moments that made me smile, that made me fantasize about the future, moments that led me to walk into a jewelry store to look at engagement rings.

  But, there was so much more to us. So much more that tears at my hardened soul and makes my gut ache so badly it hurts to breathe. It sucks. I miss her every single damn day. And I hate her for it.

  Daphne interrupts my pity party, "Evan, did you know Krissy grew up on a farm?"

  "Is that right?" I ask, raising a flirtatious eyebrow as I glide my arm behind Krissy's chair. Once again doing my best to show the desirable side of my personality, the charming side, the caring side. Don't get me wrong, that part of me is just as real as the other. But, sometimes it takes more effort. Kate knew this, she understood it and accepted it. I miss that.

  "Yes," Krissy nods, her pale cheeks growing pink. She really is sweet and I should want to know more about her. I should want to know about her childhood on a farm. She probably rode horses, picked berries, rolled around in the hay with high school boyfriends. But, I simply don't care. Not when I'm here in this bar, surrounded by memories of her, of us. Good ones, bad ones, and plenty of in-between. There's just so many.

  But, Daphne suggested this place. We came here on our first date, in fact, after we danced at The House of Blues. That was the night we decided to be friends and never looked back. Daph doesn't know that she is the only woman who has ever taken my mind off Kate, even if it was only for a short time. And I would never tell her that. She's happy with Tanner and they're right for each other.

  Krissy continues to blush as she shifts slightly in her chair so that her blonde hair brushes my shoulders. She's into me, I can tell by her body language.

  "So, um, Evan," Krissy says, stumbling on her words, "Tanner said you're in marketing?" I nod, taking a swig of my beer.

  "Yep, for a few years now. And, what do you do, Krissy?"

  "I work for Hewitt in their customer service department," she replies.

  "Do you like it there?" I ask, feigning interest in her career. I'm not going to lie, it sounds really boring.

  "Not really," she shrugs, sipping her wine. A long pause sits in the stale air and I'm tempted to make a joke just to break the tension, but nothing comes to mind.

  The conversation remains stilted for the rest of the night and I'm all-too relieved when it's time for Krissy and me to part ways. I give her a friendly hug and thank her for the evening.

  "Take care," I say and her smile diminishes as she hears the words. She knows I'm not interested. We stand awkwardly in front of the bar as she hesitates to turn and walk away. Tanner and Daphne had left a few minutes before, probably to give us time to make plans for another date. But, I'm not going to waste this girl's time. She deserves better than to be strung along by someone who's not into her.

  "You too, Evan. It was really nice to meet you," Krissy says as she walks up to her car. I smile and wave as she climbs in. As she starts the ignition, I step back towards the bar, tempted to walk back in and ask about Kate. I think better of it and make my way to my own vehicle. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of a woman inside the bar who looks so much like her. Lured by the woman's porcelain skin and thick hair pulled into a ponytail, my heart begins to thump rapidly in my chest.

  All at once, I feel out of control. My mind must be playing tricks on me. I was just inside that bar and she was nowhere to be found. And with everything I know about that woman, there's no way in hell she'd hide from me. She would've strolled over to our table, flirted with me brazenly in front of my date and sauntered up to the bar, knowing I'd be staring at her ass. She always knew how to push my buttons, no matter the situation. It's not her, Evan.

  No, this is something my brain is inventing. I miss her, so much that it's consuming me. And, I need to stay away from this bar. Too many memories lived here, memories that should be left alone. I need to walk away from her or I'll only get sucked right back into the pain. Get in your car, Evan, and drive away. I pull the car into traffic and glance back at the sign for Molly's Bar and Tavern, knowing I won't be able to stay away for long.

  Copyright © 2012 Priscilla Glenn

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1479103780

  ISBN 13: 9781479103782

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-62345-994-9

  To my family, who has supported me in everything I’ve ever wanted, thank you.

  To my test readers: Amanda Reina, Therese VonSteenburg, Daniella Leifer, Millie Morelli, Rachel Wilkins, Joanne McConnell, Kari Cieslak, Crystal Wilkins, Caryn Brogan, Grace Wilkins, Beth Poust, and Brett Sills—your feedback, advice, and encouragement have been invaluable, and I am extremely grateful for you all.

  And to my husband, who cooked dinners and changed diapers whenever I would disappear with Lauren and Michael for a while, I love you. Thank you for your endless support and reassurance.

  “It has been said that time heals all wounds. I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.”

  —Rose Kennedy

  Contents

  August 2011

  November 2000

  August 2011

  December 2000

  September 2011

  March 1989

  October 2011

  March 2001

  October 2011

  June 2001

  November 2011

  December 2001

  November 2011

  May 1992

  November 2011

  August 2002

  December 2011

  December 2002

  January 2012

  May 2003

  January 2012

  August 2003

  January 2012

  February 2012

  Epilogue—May 2015

  August 2011

  Something about this place made Lauren Monroe feel nostalgic.

  It didn’t make sense. She’d never gone to day care as a child, and never worked in a day care facility before, so she shouldn’t have been feeling reminiscent. But as she stood in the vestibule of Learn and Grow Day Care, looking at the drawings of stick figures and rainbows and suns with smiley faces, she felt a faint ache in her chest, almost like homesickness, that she couldn’t explain.

  Maybe it was just the wonder and innocence of being a kid again that she was missing.

  “Ms. Monroe?”

  She turned to see a woman standing in the doorway of the office, her blond hair pulled back into an efficient ponytail. Her outfit was casual, jeans and a T-shirt with the day care’s logo emblazoned across the front, and Lauren guessed she was probably in her mid-forties or so. But her smile made her seem almost childlike, and Lauren couldn’t help but smile in return.

  “Please, call me Lauren,” she said, walking toward the woman as she extended her hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Lauren. My name is Deborah Sayer. Come in and have a seat,” she said, stepping to the side and gesturing for Lauren to enter after they had shaken hands.

  The desk was all business: a desk calendar with meticulous handwriting, a computer, a phone, and a stack of manila folders a mile high. But the walls—the walls matched the woman she had just shaken hands with; they were a w
arm creamy blue, the backdrop for dozens of framed class photos. Image after image peppered the wall, pictures of children lined up as neatly as toddlers could be, smiling, laughing, holding hands, with a few proud teachers standing behind them. As the photos went on, the teachers changed and aged, and some came and went.

  But Deborah Sayer was in every one.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” she said, nodding toward the pictures as she walked behind her desk and took a seat. “It feels like I opened this place up yesterday, and yet there are kids on that wall that are in law school right now.” She smiled fondly at the wall before she turned her attention back to Lauren.

  “So, Lauren,” she said, reaching over to the first manila folder on the pile and opening it. “You’re from Bellefonte?”

  “I’ve lived there for the past three years. I’m originally from Scranton.”

  “I have family in Scranton,” Deborah smiled. “I was just there a few weeks ago.” She looked down, eyeing the document in front of her, and from her place across the desk, Lauren could see it was her résumé. Deborah looked up, a smile lifting the corner of her mouth. “Penn State girl?”

  “Through and through.”

  “Me too,” Deborah said. “Class of eighty-seven.”

  “The professors there are amazing. I’m going back there now to get my master’s.”

  Deborah nodded, the smile still playing at her lips as she looked back down at the résumé. “So, you taught kindergarten for the past three years at Unionville Primary. Tell me about your time there. What would you say your biggest accomplishments were?”

  “Probably my biggest personal accomplishment was learning how to become a teacher,” Lauren said with a laugh. “You take all these classes on best practices and teaching methods, but you don’t really learn how to swim until you’re thrown to the sharks.” Deborah laughed, and Lauren added, “And as for professional accomplishments, while I was there I developed a literacy rubric that was adopted by the other kindergarten teachers in the district, and I also founded and headed a committee for increased parental involvement that was really successful.”