by Mara Jacobs
Chapter Four
New Year’s Eve
Ten Years Ago
“Mom’s been bugging me to dance with Lewis Kampmueller,” Tess hissed to Grace, peering around one of the well-lit pillars. Fortunately, the dork was nowhere in sight.
Grace laughed, tucking her light brown hair behind one ear. “Better you than me!” She smoothed her simple black dress—the one that Tess had tried to talk her out of wearing.
“You always wear black, Gracie—why don’t you put on something more exciting—like red or blue or even green?” Conscious of her own emerald green gown, Tess looked around and saw her friend, David Grathwold, standing with a group of guys from school. She and David had just finished starring in their high school’s production of Annie Get Your Gun.
“Black is simple and easy,” Grace told her firmly. “I don’t have time to worry about what goes with what, and whether my makeup matches, and if I have the right shoes like you do.” Then she gave Tess a shrewd look. “All right, ’fess up. Are you going to kiss David at midnight or what?” Geez. She’d be a great cop.
“No, I am not going to kiss David. For Pete’s sake, Grace, I kissed him enough during the show, and believe me, it didn’t do a thing for me. It was like kissing a brother—if we had one. Besides, he’s your age—too young for me. I’m more into college guys.” Her attention wafted back to where the man in question stood with his friends. “Johnny Wilder’s looking hot, though. He looks just like a young George Harrison, with those heavy brows and all that dark hair. Too bad he’s too young too. And he’s got a date.”
“Too bad you dumped Brian last week—’cause if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have to dance with Lewis,” Grace pointed out.
“You’re right. I should have kept him around for another week just so he could be my date. Right.” Tess shook her head. “He was such a jerk during the show, always so jealous of David, if you can believe it. I was tired of it. And think of it this way: if I had a date, you’d be next on Mom’s list—so you should be grateful for my datelessness.” She smiled. “I guess I’ll just have to find someone here tonight.”
Grace scoffed. “Yeah, right. Like any guy you choose is going to just jump to attention when you walk by.”
Tess just raised her brows and looked at her.
“Well, all right. You’ve got a point,” her sister conceded. “They do tend to notice you. But that doesn’t mean they’d kiss you.”
“I’ll bet you I can find someone to kiss at midnight. And if I do” —Tess’s grin turned mischievous— “you not only have to dance with Lewis, you have to kiss him.”
Grace paled, but considered for a moment. “All right. But, you can’t count kissing Dad or any relative. And it can’t just be a peck on the cheek—it’s got to be on the lips. And, if you don’t find someone, you have to kiss Lewis, and I’m going to tell him you have a crush on him. You only have thirty minutes, so you’d better get to work.”
Tess shuddered at the idea of Lewis thinking she liked him. But the thought of her sister—tomboy Grace who only thought about studying and sports—kissing the bean pole nerd with a huge Adam’s apple made her want to giggle. “Deal.”
Grace insisted on bringing Annabelle into the fold as witness and the three sisters shook on it. Little did they know a New Year’s Eve tradition had been born.
“Hey, guys,” Tess said brightly as she wandered up to the group where David stood with his friends.
“Yo, Tess,” David replied. “What’s going on? Hey, do you think your dad or Mr. K will care if we get a beer from the bar?”
“If you aren’t driving, I don’t think one beer would be a problem. It’s New Year’s Eve, after all. Just don’t be obvious about it—and don’t let my Aunt Helen see you drinking it.” She looked over the group of guys, searching for a potential midnight kissee.
Dang. Johnny Wilder was looking pretty hot tonight. She noticed his steel grey eyes and relaxed stance where he leaned against the wall. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with toned biceps that showed through the clinging shirt he wore. Didn’t he know he was supposed to be wearing a suit jacket? At sixteen, he already looked more manly than the rest of them…which was probably why he had a pretty blond date who was shooting eye-daggers at Tess.
“I think we’re already past one beer,” Wilder drawled in his low voice. “But I wouldn’t mind another one.”
“All right,” Tess replied, her voice automatically sliding into a matching mellow purr. Too bad he was so young. No way would senior Tess Devine lower herself to kiss a sophomore. “Anyone else want me to snag them a beer?”
In all, she promised to bring back three. She walked away from the group, trying to figure out how she was going to carry three glasses while finding someone to kiss. She’d taken a few steps toward the bar when a long steel pole shot out in front of her.
“And just what are you up to, girl?” asked a peremptory voice.
“Aunt Helen!” Tess tried to avoid the cane wielded by her great-aunt from Maine, but the old lady was too quick for her. She had to grab a table to keep from losing her balance and had barely righted herself by the time the woman placed herself in her path.
“You’re going to catch your death of cold in that dress,” Aunt Helen scolded, and, to Tess’s acute embarrassment, reached with a claw-like hand to yank the bodice higher. “In my day and age—and it wasn’t all that long ago, young lady, do you hear me?—nice young ladies wouldn’t be caught dead in a dress without a bit of lace there at the throat. Here, let me see. You hold this, Teresa, now, while I find it….” She thrust her shiny cane (a new addition to her aunt’s persona) at her great-niece, and upended her gauche satin pink evening bag onto a table.
Lipstick, tissues, a plastic coin case, and a little net bag filled with birdseed clunked onto an empty plate. Helen scrabbled through the debris with her curled fingers while Tess tried to think of a way to extricate herself.
“Aunt Helen, I really appreciate your help, but I need—”
“Stay right there, young lady. Don’t you be walking off with that cane! I might be an old lady—not that old, mind you, but old enough to get away with whatever I wish, I’ll have you know—and it’s not that I need that blasted thing to get around with—’cause I don’t—but it makes me look old and frail and I have found several other uses for the thing. Ah-ha!” She held up a bit of frilly lace, mussed and crumpled, and most likely smelling of moth balls.
“Aunt Helen,” Tess said again, more earnestly this time. Ten minutes to midnight. “I need to get back to my—”
“Here we are,” said her aunt. And before Tess could blink, the old lady was jamming the bit of froth right down the front of her dress.
“Aunt Helen!”
“Did you need some help, ma’am?” drawled a voice behind them.
Tess jerked away and came face to face with Johnny Wilder. Heat swarmed up from her chest, warming her face, as she met his amused gaze with her own. Great. Caught with my great-aunt’s hand down the front of my dress. Perfect.
Helen jerked her chin up, and Tess noticed the way the termagant scoped him out. “I have everything under control, here, young man. But you can be certain that if I am in need of assistance, I’ll be calling on you.” Her thin lips curved in something resembling a smile.
Good grief! Was Aunt Helen flirting with Johnny Wilder?
Tess looked at the clock. Nine minutes. The opportunity to win her bet with Grace was slipping further away.
“You bet, Mrs. Galliday,” Wilder drawled. “In the meantime, I came to see if I could help you carry those glasses, Tess. We need a fourth one.”
“I would appreciate that very much.” She glanced at the clock adorning the wall above the deejay, and grimaced at the time. Eight minutes. How was she going to swing this?
Tess slowed so Wilder walked next to her. Hm. Maybe he could be a candidate. She had nothing to lose (except the bet)…plus she was bold, direct, and used to getting her own way. He was
only a young kid—he probably wasn’t all that experienced. He’d probably jump at the chance to kiss Tess Devine.
She slanted a glance at him. If only he were a couple years older.
His arm bumped against hers, and Tess took charge. She slipped her hand around his bicep as they walked, leaning slightly into him.
Wilder glanced down at her, but he didn’t draw away as they walked toward the bar. She noticed the clock hanging on the wall behind the bar. Five minutes. Crap. Grace and Annabelle watched from across the room. Tess looked at them and saw the matching smirks on her sisters’ faces. That was it. Time was up.
“Hey Johnny,” she said, gently steering him away from the bar.
He looked down again. “What’s up, Tess? Aren’t we going to get a beer?”
“I need a favor.”
“What’s that?” That drawl again—so casual and uninterested.
She pulled him toward a corner decorated by a ficus adorned with lights. They wouldn’t be so noticeable here ... but Grace and Annabelle could see them. Tess released his arm and looked up to catch him giving a little wave across the room. To his date. Ugh. She glanced at the big clock. Three minutes!
No time to lose. “See, I have a bet with my sister that I would kiss someone at midnight. So can you just kiss me real quick and then you can go back to what’s-her-name?”
Surprise flared across his face and Wilder stared down at her in blatant disbelief. Tess felt her mouth dry. Crap. What if he refused?
“You want me to kiss you. In front of my date. In front of everyone. So you can win a bet?”
A flood of heat rushed over her face. Well, when you put it that way….But she wasn’t Tess Devine for nothing. “Yes. Come on, Johnny—it’s just a bet. I’ll explain everything to your date. It’ll be fine.” She flapped her hand.
Wilder stared at her. She could read the emotions on his face: incredulity and suspicion. “And you think that’ll be okay with Jilly, as long as you explain? You want to ruin the rest of my night? I have plans.” His slow smile indicated just what he had in mind for after the party.
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Johnny. It’s just a damned kiss. For one second.”
Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The hum of voices rose, and Tess turned just as someone shouted, “It’s time! Get your champagne for the midnight toast!”
She looked back at Wilder. His gray eyes were cool, and skepticism still showed on his face.
“Ten ... nine ... eight ... . ” Her dad had started the countdown.
Tess glanced across the room and saw Grace grinning like an idiot. As their eyes met, Grace used her two index fingers to point excitedly toward Lewis Kampmueller, who stood only yards away. She made smooching motions with her lips and then pointed at Lewis again.
“ ... Five ... four ... three ... . ”
Tess swiveled back toward Wilder, who was still looking at her like she’d grown another head. She grabbed his shoulders and yanked him toward her just as the room erupted in shouts, claps, and cheers.
She missed his mouth by two inches, yet as their faces collided in the midst of the revelry, Tess felt her body shut down ... then whoosh alive. He turned toward her and their lips clashed awkwardly ... and then suddenly Johnny Wilder was kissing her ... really kissing her.
