Kissing Mr. Right

by Michelle Major

  It had been a struggle to fit in at the prestigious school. During the six years she attended Graves, she’d written papers and finished homework assignments for other students. She’d allowed them to copy from her tests during exams. In exchange for this, Kendall was given a tenuous position on the fringes of the popular cliques at the school, but it was constant work to keep her so-called friends satisfied.

  She always felt like her presence polluted the rarified air that normally smelled of wealth and privilege. So she’d held her breath, snuffing out her childhood like a candle in a coal mine.

  Ignoring her family became so second nature that the lines between who she was on the inside and who she pretended to be had blurred. Her parents had made plenty of sacrifices so she could succeed. Now she hoped her future success would make up for treating them so badly.

  She could manage her way through anything if it got her closer to her goal of becoming a respected journalist. But there was still something that worried her about dating on camera. “What if they don’t like me?”

  Liz was at the door but turned at Kendall’s question. “What are you talking about? One thing no one can deny is that viewers love you. This is a chance for them to know you better. They’ll take you even further into their homes and hearts.”

  Kendall shook her head. “Not the viewers. I’m talking about the men.” The words tumbled out of her in a rush of nervous breath. “What if none of the guys like me? What if the dates are busts and then they get played on-air and everyone sees that I have no chemistry with men?”

  “Is this about Greg Davies?”

  Kendall winced at her ex-boyfriend’s name. “He called me a frigid ice princess.”

  “Refresh my memory,” Liz interrupted. “Did he tell you this before or after you found out he was going at it with your real estate agent? He was an ass, Kendall.”

  “Agreed, but did he have a valid point?”

  Liz threw her hands into the air. “Don’t sell yourself short. Go on the dates. Meet a few nice guys. When was the last time you felt a rush of attraction for someone?”

  A pair of deep blue eyes popped into Kendall’s mind. She shook her head to clear the image. “I’ve agreed to it, but I’m not looking to meet someone right now. This is about my career, not my nonexistent love life. If there’s one thing Greg reinforced, it was that romance belongs at the bottom of my priority list.” She nodded, needing to convince herself as much as her boss. “It’s a distraction I don’t want or need.”

  “Smart girl.” Liz nodded then headed out the door. Kendall could hear her humming the cheesy song the promotion had been named after as she strolled down the hall.

  Kendall stared at her computer screen, but inside she was doing a big production happy dance. For the first time in her career, she’d fought for more than a story she believed in. She’d stood up for herself.

  It felt unsettling . . . exhilarating . . . right.

  As silly as It’s Raining Men seemed, maybe the promotion would really be the start of something good. Pulling a notebook out of the bottom drawer of her desk, she flipped to the page labeled “Life List.” The list was over ten years old now, but the goals on it hadn’t changed much. Some of them were crossed off—valedictorian, college scholarship, working in a top-25 market.

  But the one she’d written in bubble letters as a teenager was still there—New York City. Her ultimate goal, working as a reporter in the big city. It had felt almost too ambitious for a girl from Nowhere, USA, but now adrenaline buzzed through her as she took a pen and outlined the words once more.

  The dream she’d worked toward all this time was finally within reach, and nothing was going to stop her from achieving it.

  Ty let out a long breath as the Jeep turned into the lot of the body shop. He’d convinced himself that Kendall Clark wouldn’t show this morning and didn’t like the flood of relief that pounded through him now. Did it really matter so much to him if he saw her again?

  Apparently it did.

  As she stepped out of the banged-up car, he approached with a friendly wave. The parking lot was littered with cars and trucks in various states of repair. Kendall, in her lavender sweater, neat trousers, and low heels, looked as out of place as Martha Stewart at a monster truck rally.

  Tortoiseshell glasses screened her eyes from view. Her brown hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail at the nape of her neck. The morning air blew one loose strand against the side of her face.

  Ty’s fingers itched to reach out and tuck it behind her ear, to trail his finger along the graceful column of her exposed neck.

  Instead, he handed her one of the steaming cups he held in his hands. “There’s a little coffee shop a few blocks from here. I didn’t know how you like it, so the coffee’s black. They have cream and sugar in the shop. But Ray’s coffee is about as palatable as tar.”

  There was a slight hesitation before she took the cup, as if no one had ever bought her a coffee before. “Black is fine. Thanks.” She looked toward the large plate-glass window at the front of the brick building. “Is Ray the owner?”

  Ty nodded. “He and I go way back. He’s serviced my trucks since I started my business six years ago. He knows his way around an engine. Also does a lot of bodywork. He’ll take good care of your Jeep.”

  “What type of business are you in, Mr. Bishop?”

  “Ty. Call me Ty. I own a nursery, Rocky Mountain Landscapes. Actually, we just opened our second location on the south end of town.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “It’s hard competing against the big-name chains, but we do all right. We also do a lot of residential landscaping and some commercial. We just finished the grounds of the governor’s mansion.” God help him, he was babbling.

  “I’ve driven by there. The flower beds in the front yard are beautiful.” She smiled, but it seemed forced. Maybe Jenny was right, and the spark he’d felt yesterday had been only one-sided.

  “Thanks.” He motioned toward the building. “Let’s find Ray and see what he thinks about your car.”

  The whir of pneumatic wrenches and the clang of hammers against metal grew louder as they walked toward the entrance of the body shop.

  He held the door for her and drew in a breath as she moved through it. The crisp scent of her perfume mingled with the clean smell of soap and made his head spin.

  In contrast, the pungent odor of stale sweat, grease, and cigarette smoke permeated the lobby of Ray’s Body Shop. Ty watched Kendall take in the stained upholstery of the worn couch. She eyed the swimsuit pinups from various years. The blare of heavy metal music coming from the back office practically shook the paint off the grimy walls.

  He gave her his most encouraging smile. “Ray doesn’t go all out on the décor, but don’t let it fool you. He’s really good with cars. He’ll give us a great deal. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t trust him.” Shut up, shut up, shut up, he told himself.

  “Maybe you should find Ray,” Kendall suggested. She nodded to the small bell that sat on the counter of the empty reception area. “I don’t think he’s going to hear that over the music.”

  “It’s Metallica.”

  She gave him a funny look. “Yeah, I know. Could you find him?”

  With a quick nod, Ty disappeared around the corner of the wall that led to the back of the building.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kendall eyed the stained couch. There wasn’t enough money at the Denver Mint to convince her to sit on those cushions.

  It was probably a bad idea to show up here this morning, but she wasn’t sure she could have stopped herself. A good night’s sleep should have dulled her reaction to Ty Bishop, but that hadn’t been the case. As soon as she saw him waiting for her, she’d had trouble catching her breath. This morning he wore a green plaid flannel shirt tucked into faded jeans. Since when had flannel become attra
ctive to her?

  Maybe that attraction explained why she’d barely been able to form a coherent sentence. She hoped it wasn’t the memories that the body shop brought back from her childhood. The place looked and smelled exactly like the garage where her dad did part time work between his shifts at the country club. When he wasn’t drying out in rehab, anyway. Her dad was a great guy when he was sober, doing his best to take care of Kendall and the medical bills from her mom’s rheumatoid arthritis. But at least once a year he’d fall off the wagon and go on a months-long binge, getting suspended from work and putting their already dismal finances in real peril. The worst episode had lasted almost half a year and landed Kendall and her mother in a homeless shelter for Thanksgiving. Kendall had been ten years old. Eventually, he’d cleaned up his act, but the fear and uncertainty of those times had stayed with Kendall.

  The thumping music stopped abruptly. A minute later, Ty Bishop returned, followed by a stocky, slightly balding man wearing a shirt with the name “Ray” printed above the breast pocket.

  Ray held out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Clark. The wife and I tune in every night.”

  “I appreciate that. Please call me Kendall.”

  Ray gestured to the empty chair behind the reception desk. “Gloria, she’s my wife, is usually here to greet people. But she had to take our seven-year-old to the doctor this morning. Ear infection.” He grinned. “Sorry about the music. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and I only get to play what I like when Gloria’s not around. She keeps the radio tuned to country.” He rolled his eyes. “Blake Shelton is ok, but a few of them ladies make my head pound.”

  Ray Sharp reminded Kendall of some of the locals from Grady, Kansas. Although she’d hightailed it out of her hometown, sometimes she missed the easy friendliness of the people there. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Between you and me, I’d take Metallica over country any day.”

  The tension in Ray Sharp’s shoulders eased. He waggled a finger in her direction. “I knew I’d like you. Let’s take a look at your car. Ty tells me the front bumper’s destroyed.”

  Ray led the way out of the building into the bright morning sunlight. He whistled softly as he took in the damage to her car.

  Ty came to stand next to Kendall. “How bad is it, Ray?”

  The other man straightened and ran a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t look like more than body work. I’d like to put it on one of the lifts and check underneath to make sure.” He turned to Kendall. “Could you leave the car with me for about an hour?”

  “That would work,” she said, checking her watch. “I have a noon meeting but left the morning open. Should I wait in the lobby?”

  Ray grinned. “If you don’t mind Metallica.”

  She returned his smile. “They’re better than country, but . . .”

  Ty stepped forward. “Actually, I don’t have anything going on this morning. We could grab a muffin at the coffee shop I told you about.”

  She considered declining, knowing it would be safer to keep her distance from this man who made her feel things she hadn’t expected. Then she looked into his blue eyes and forgot everything else. He looked so hopeful, watching her like it really mattered that she said yes. “My treat,” she told him. Her mouth had gone dry. “It’s the least I can do.”

  Ray spoke before Ty could answer. “I hope your wallet’s full,” he laughed. “Ty eats like a horse.”

  “Hey,” Ty said in mock protest. “I resemble that remark. Besides, it makes Gloria happy when I take a second helping.”

  “Or third,” Ray added. “Are the keys in the car?”

  She nodded.

  “Great. See you two in an hour.” Ray climbed into the Jeep and drove it toward the back of the building.

  Kendall turned to Ty. “Third?”

  “What can I say? She makes a hell of a lasagna.” He pointed down the street. “The coffee shop’s this way. And don’t worry that I’ll drain your bank account. I’m not a huge fan of breakfast.”

  She fell in step beside him. “What’s not to like about breakfast? Eggs, bacon, pancakes.” She sighed. “What could be better?”

  He gave her a dubious look. “You eat a lot of pancakes?”

  “Well, no,” she admitted. “Mainly fruit and yogurt these days. But a girl can dream.”

  “And you dream about pancakes?”

  “Stacks of them. Dripping with real butter and maple syrup.” She held a hand to her grumbling stomach. “Oops.”

  His wide smile caught her off guard, and her step faltered for a moment.

  He continued to grin as he reached out an arm to steady her. “Fruit and yogurt doesn’t hold up next to visions of pancakes, huh?”

  “I guess not.” Kendall felt the color rise to her cheeks. First she could barely put a sentence together and now she was practically having an orgasm over the mere thought of pancakes.

  “I don’t think The Daily Grind has pancakes. But we’ll get you a big blueberry muffin.” He leaned in closer. “With a side of butter?”

  She laughed, because as strange as this banter felt, it was refreshing to joke around with him. “Thanks, but I take my muffins plain.”

  They rounded a corner and the coffee shop came into view.

  She stepped through the front door and breathed in the rich scent of coffee.

  Ty motioned to a small cluster of café tables positioned near the front of the shop. “Why don’t you grab a table and I’ll get the food? Do you want another coffee?”

  “Water would be fine.” She reached for her purse. “Let me give you some cash.”

  He waved her away. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I told you I wanted to pay.”

  Ty was already making his way to the counter. “You can buy the next time,” he called over his shoulder.

  She stared after him, his words ringing in her ears. Next time. When was the last time there had been a next time after one of her many first dates?

  Not since Greg.

  After Kendall had discovered her boyfriend was a ratfink cheater and ended their relationship, it had taken months before she was ready to date again. At that point, plenty of people had tried to fix her up, and she’d had first dates with a variety of eligible, upwardly mobile men.

  She hadn’t wanted a second date with any of them.

  After a while, the routine had gotten old and she’d shifted her personal life to the back burner and focused on her career instead. She wanted more than the silly stories assigned to her, so it hadn’t felt like a sacrifice to devote herself exclusively to her job. If she missed romance . . . well, she could always binge watch the Hallmark Channel on a Saturday night.

  How long had it been since she’d been on a date? Six months? Eight? That had to be the reason for her physical reaction to Ty. Because she’d never in her life wanted to lift a guy’s shirt to see if the body underneath was as good as it looked. She could imagine doing all kinds of wicked, wonderful things to that body.

  But it was more than the body and the crazy chemistry she’d like to deny. He was laid-back and clearly comfortable in his own skin, something Kendall had never quite managed. It appealed to her on a level she didn’t care to examine, especially since it made her agree to meet him at Ray’s this morning. Even with her finances tight, she could have handled the repairs to her Jeep. But she hadn’t been able to resist the lure of the spark between them, which made agreeing to this non-date even more foolish.

  She pulled at her sweater as she selected a table near the front window, trying and failing to cool down her overheated imagination. She could ignore the spark. Absently, she played with a container of sugar substitute and watched Ty select their food. He looked almost elegant, despite his casual shirt and jeans.

  Jeans that, she couldn’t help but notice, covered one fine ass. This is not a date, she repeated over a
nd over again. Don’t check out his ass, fine or not.

  Ty gestured to the pastry case next to the coffee shop’s front counter. The young woman who waited on him smiled attentively then giggled at something he said. When he turned to walk toward the table, she noticed the girl cocking her head for a better view of his butt. At least Kendall wasn’t the only one.

  Ty set a tray with muffins and two glasses of orange juice on the table and slid into the chair across from her. “I watched the news last night. You sure pulled it together after the accident.”

  “Luckily, one of the production assistants took care of the footage for me. It was still tight, but everything worked out.”

  He studied her over the rim of his juice glass. “I hope the poor walrus feels better. The story ended kind of abruptly.”

  “It ended when the poor walrus blew a gallon of snot all over me. But it’s fascinating how much the vets can do for animals so that little problems don’t escalate like they would in the wild. In fact, at the Denver Zoo—” She cupped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. You asked a simple question and I started rambling.”

  “It’s interesting rambling. Besides, I like how your eyes light up when you talk about your work.” His mouth quirked at one end. “It’s sexy.”

  The piece of muffin she’d just swallowed lodged in the back of her throat. Oh, yes. Sexy. That was her. She coughed and sputtered until Ty stood and leaned over, thumping her hard between the shoulder blades.

  “Sorry.” He grinned when she was breathing normally again. “That wasn’t the reaction I was going for.”

  “What reaction did you expect?”

  “I don’t know—another smile?”

  She waved a hand in front of her face. “It’s ok. You just caught me off guard.”

  “Obviously. I’ll let you finish that bite before I ask my next question.”