Maybe he just wanted to be different.
Because Padre Suarez still sat nearby reading a book, infusing the bakery with a saintly aroma, Charley held back from cursing. Instead, she had a random thought so out of the blue that its deviousness scared her a little bit. But just for once, maybe if all the beauty contestants and model types would lay off Dylan, Charley might have a chance. A chance for what she didn’t even know. Sunset kiss fail be damned. Maybe they wouldn’t have true love, but how about a chance to find out whether there was even the slightest possibility they could ever be more than friends?
That could be the only reason, she told herself, that she said the next words percolating in her mind.
“He’s getting married,” she said in a hushed tone, less Padre Suarez overhear.
And oh God, she’d said it. She’d pranked Dylan many times before, once walking up to him in the middle of talking to a beautiful girl, only to ask him whether he’d taken the paternity test yet. All in good fun. He’d always get her back with a vengeance. Once he’d pilfered a set of handcuffs from his buddy in the SFPD and pretended to make a citizen’s arrest in the middle of her dinner date. Her date had stared at her in horror and disgust. She wasn’t going to lie, that one had been embarrassing.
“Married? Dylan?”
“Yep. He finally kissed a girl at sunset and apparently, it’s true love. So…it’s kind of a done deal.” Charley wiped the counter top. “He doesn’t want anyone to know yet. You’ll keep your mouth shut, won’t you?”
“Of course. Damn. Shows you how true the legend is! Someone finally caught him.” Jenny whispered, “Who is she?”
“No one you would know. She’s not from here and like forty-five or fifty or something.” Once Charley got going, it was hard to stop.
“A cougar!” Jenny snapped her fingers.
“Well, I’ve seen pictures and she used to be really ugly, but she’s had a lot of plastic surgery now so she’s much prettier.”
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” Jenny grabbed her coffee and took off at a near-run.
Padre Suarez stood, and his wise gaze followed Jenny out of the shop. “Where is she going in such a hurry?”
Charley bit back a laugh. “I don’t know. Padre, how late is the confessional open?”
He blinked. “Aren’t you a Baptist, dear?”
“No. Sort of a half-hearted Methodist.” Mostly Coral’s influence. “But just in case, I might need a miracle.”
When Dylan found out, he was going to get her back and get her good. She would need all the help she could get.
Padre smiled. “You have come to the right place.”
7
“Don’t you wish people would mind their own business? Asking for a friend.” ~ meme
Late in the day, Charley took her mind off her latest disaster by cooking dinner for Milly as planned. She threw in a stick of butter and watched it melt and sizzle in the pan. Added a handful of chopped garlic cloves. Stirred, then added a handful of chopped basil and grape tomatoes, crushed bell tomatoes, and tomato sauce. The aroma in the room transformed Milly’s apartment into an Italian eatery. Garlic, basil, and tomato smells rose in the air and tickled her nose. Charley added in whipping cream, guessing at the amount which she always happened to do just right, and stirred her favorite tomato cream sauce in the world. She finished off with a little cornstarch to thicken. Dipped her finger in for a taste. Oh, yeah. Just right.
Chopping, stirring, and butter always calmed her. That, and talking to Dylan, but she couldn’t very well do that now. She’d really screwed herself on that one. Now they would segue from one argument right into what would likely be another one. A new record for them. No maybe about it, she’d crossed the line on pranks. What excuse could she give him?
I didn’t see any other way I’d get women to stop pining away for you for a minute. Maybe if there’s no one else around, you’ll finally notice me.
Blatantly obvious. Pathetic. She was so pathetic.
“Oh, that smells so good,” Milly said. “Ever since I got pregnant, everything smells better. More intense.”
“What about taste?”
“That, too. In fact, all of my senses including my sixth.”
Charley rolled her eyes. “Sure, Miss San Francisco Medium.”
If Milly really was psychic, she’d sense what was coming to her right after dinner.
“Keep on making fun of me, you’ll see. Was I wrong about the love today?”
Milly hadn’t been entirely off base. Today, Charley had let her stupid crush roam free and like a lost and wandering sheep fall off a cliff. She supposed that should have been an omen.
“Guess not.”
“See, I told you.” Milly rubbed her belly, satisfied.
Rufus meowed and rubbed against Charley’s legs. Always so kind to her at dinnertime, the rat fiend. She quickly opened him a can of food and set his dish down, so he could eat at the same time. Charley drained the pasta and served herself and Milly in the bright colorful bowls Milly kept in the cupboard. This was Dylan’s second favorite dish of Charley’s, after the ratatouille she made and which they often ate straight out of the pan.
“Yum. So good.” Milly closed her eyes in pleasure after her first bite. “How much garlic did you put in?”
“A handful.”
Milly opened one eye. “Butter?”
“A stick.”
“I just don’t know how you do it.”
“Trade secret.” She lifted a shoulder. “I’m the food whisperer. It’s a gift.”
“Someday maybe you could write it all down. I’d like to make this for myself sometime.”
“But this is my special dish. I make it for you when I’m home.”
“I know, but...” Milly’s voice trailed off. “You’re gone so much.”
Wait. Charley had something Milly wanted, so…seed planted. This could be easier than she’d thought. “I’m sorry, maybe I am being selfish. You can have the recipe since I’ve been away too much.”
“Awesome!”
She glanced at Milly from under hooded eyes. “If you tell the father.”
Milly scowled. “Still not giving up on this?”
Charley fixed her with a determined and steely gaze. “Never.”
“You have to. Seriously, I don’t want him to know and the reason I don’t tell you is because you’re going to take a big leap as you always do and tell him.”
Basically, Milly didn’t trust Charley which would be offensive were she not so correct in this case. “You can’t raise a baby on your own. It’s going to be too hard to run the bakery and raise a baby.”
“I’ll work it out. We Monroe women are strong, and we don’t need a man.”
Charley’s eyes slid to Milly’s belly and then up to her eyes. She had needed a man a few months ago.
“Well, for one thing. We need men for one thing.”
After everything she’d been through, how could Milly not know what Charley was feeling? She’d spell it out for her. “What do you think it was like for me, never knowing my father?”
She frowned. Milly’s parents had been divorced but she saw her father regularly until he moved to Oregon. “Not good, I guess. But you had me and Mama. We did okay, didn’t we?”
“Yes, once I landed with you two. But there were many years when I didn’t have anyone. Maggie left me, and I didn’t even know my father. I had zero family. That’s how I wound up in foster care.”
“I’m sorry. I know that was rotten, but this is different.” She patted her belly. “You’ll see.”
Charley went hands on hips. “Do you or do you not want my famous and fabulous recipe so you can make it for yourself when I’m not home?”
“Not enough for that.”
Strike one hundred or so. Not sure. Charley had lost count since she’d been at this from the first day several months ago when Milly had called to give her the unexpected news. Charley would be an auntie. Bargaining had not worked. Begging and appe
aling to her sense of reason had not worked. But there was always fear and intimidation. Charley got up to return their dishes to the sink. She picked up her sharpest chef knife, stomped back and stood in front of Milly brandishing it with true skill.
“You better tell him.” She said this as threateningly as she could, being that she was about five feet two and one hundred and twenty-five pounds of mostly sass.
Milly burst out laughing.
“That’s not supposed to be funny!” Charley stomped her foot.
“I know, I know,” she said through a wheeze, holding her stomach. “That’s what makes it even funnier.”
Charley was zero for one hundred and one (give or take) now. She was out of options and might actually have to go back to DNA stealing, possibly get arrested, and spend hard time at Folsom. She hoped Dylan would come to visit.
“I have to pee. Oh man, that was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.” She reached for Charley’s hand to give her a boost. “You looked so serious.”
“I am.”
“Stop it! I might pee my pants.” Milly waddled to the bathroom, near tears.
At least they were happy tears.
8
Diet, day one: I have removed all the fattening food from the house. It was delicious. ~ meme
The whole incident was an innocent enough mistake.
No, really.
Last summer, it had been just another simple evening in Miracle Bay. That particular Saturday in June had been a rare day off for Dylan, and Charley had met him at the home he’d renovated and decided to keep. She’d fed him (filet mignon in a reduction sauce with grilled asparagus shoots on the side) and afterward they’d watched the fifty-something showing of Scarface.
While Charley watched the bloody end through her splayed fingers, she dared to peek at Dylan, sacked out on the floor in front of her, head on a sofa pillow. He’d fallen asleep, his breathing slow and measured. She didn’t know how long she’d been enduring this torture needlessly, so she shut off the movie. Dylan didn’t move a single muscle.
He worked so hard, picking up extra work at the docks, occasionally doing odd handyman jobs at his mother’s boarding house and now renovating this Victorian to flip. No wonder he’d fallen asleep during his favorite movie. It was all too much. Taking a folded blanket from the sofa, Charley draped it over his figure stretched out on the floor, one arm over his forehead, the other stretched out to the side. As long as she’d known Dylan, she couldn’t say that she’d ever seen him sleep.
This was actual proof he wasn’t superhuman and the knowledge settled into her, wrapping around her heart warm and cozy. He wasn’t perfect.
Not entirely.
He didn’t move as she tucked the blanket around him, not even when she dared to rake a fingernail across his jawline and the tough dark bristle there. If he woke up, she’d claim he had something stuck to his jaw. As his best friend, it was her duty to remove it. Here were a few new things to know about Dylan. He was a heavy sleeper if this was any indication. And there were many other things she didn’t know about him, such as whether or not his full lips were soft. These were things she’d probably never know about him.
She studied his handsome face, relaxed and oddly vulnerable now in rest. For years, she’d used any excuse she could to touch him. Slapping his back if he ever coughed in front of her. Removing a little something he had on his face (there never was anything). Fist bumps. But she’d had to imagine threading her fingers through his thick dark hair. She did that now, surprised it was softer than it looked. Being this close to him, she felt an unexplainable heat and awareness of him. He’d always been attractive to her, but this moment felt different. Special. The air between them was charged and thick. And she was tempted.
A thought ran through her so wild and crazy that she pulled her hand back as if stung.
Because she could kiss him now. It wasn’t cheating. He wasn’t dating anyone, and neither was she. Plus, he’d never know. It wouldn’t change anything. She wouldn’t have to worry that he’d break her heart. That she’d somehow break his.
Just a kiss.
It wasn’t going to be a great kiss, seeing as he wouldn’t be a participant. This kiss would be chaste. Tender. And likely her only chance to kiss him. Ever. She bent lightly and carefully over him, so as not to make any sudden moves and wake him. Her lips brushed lightly over his full ones, pleasantly surprised at how soft they were. A tingle swept through her and she’d swear the room shimmered in a soft radiant glow.
“I love you,” she whispered because it seemed that had always been true.
She stayed longer than she’d planned, lips feathering against his so lightly it was almost as if it hadn’t happened. But it had. She’d kissed her best friend without his permission. Without his knowledge. Wrong. So wrong. She shot to her feet, terrified at what she’d done. They were friends and that was all she needed. All he wanted. All she wanted. Most of the time. In those other moments when he took her breath away just by giving her a lopsided smile, well, she’d get over that. Someday.
Blinking away tears of shame, she carried the popcorn bowls to the kitchen.
At least this small moment would always be hers. One private moment in time she could keep locked in her heart as she traveled the country dealing with impersonal co-workers who never seemed to give a wit about her. Dates that never went anywhere. Someday, she’d laugh about this. Someday, she’d tell her husband about this and he’d say: “Baby, I’m so glad he didn’t wake up during that kiss because if he had you and I might not be together.” Someday, she wouldn’t feel this aching emptiness, the sinking sense that as much as she had she had in life she had nothing if she didn’t have him.
There was something wrong with her. She was selfish. That was the problem.
When she set the bowls on the counter of the kitchen, the sun was slipping down, a beautiful burst of orange, yellow and red. It was like a gift, a reward and acknowledgement that this pain and longing would pass someday. She’d be able to move on.
But like an unexpected slap or a sting, she hissed in a sharp breath at the realization that she’d accidentally kissed Dylan during the sunset. Fingers traced her mouth, remembering what she’d done. What she’d taken without permission. If one believed in the legend of the sunset kiss, and she did, it meant he could be the one. True love. If this was real, Dylan would feel it too when he woke up. He’d look at her differently. He’d sense the same electricity between them that she had.
But one year later, not a thing between them was any different.
Dylan had the next forty-eight off from the station and used part of one day to finish the job he’d started on a yacht docked at the marina. He’d been hired to install some wood cabinets in the galley kitchen. He’d probably indulge in a couple of basketball games at the rec center. Sleep. Spend some time with Charley before she took off again. If he monopolized more of her time while she was here, she’d have less of it to try and intervene in Milly’s life. Because he couldn’t let her continue and if that meant putting a tail on her, well, he had friends at the SFPD.
But if she ever found out who the father was, no doubt Charley would try to arrange a sunset kiss for Milly and the man. Wouldn’t surprise him. Charley was as much of a believer in the ridiculous legend as every other woman her age.
He wasn’t a believer, and neither were half of the men he knew. Dylan knew a gimmick when he saw one. Sure, some men went along with it when they were seriously interested in a woman. Kissed them at sunset to up their game. True love. Ha! He could come up with the names of two relationships where the couples kissed at sunset, and though they were still together, they were also miserable. That wasn’t true love. You couldn’t build a life on a myth. A fantasy.
The legend of “true love” could be put to rest forever in his mind. He was generally suspicious of any woman who believed. Except for Charley, because her belief in the legend came from a deeper place than most. For Charley, it wasn’t so much about a su
nset kiss as it was about being the chosen one. Special. But since he’d appointed himself as the one who’d approve her “forevers,” whether she liked it or not, he wasn’t worried she’d wind up with the wrong man. A few months ago on a visit home, she’d briefly dated a dude from North Beach. Some loser type destined to break her heart. It was written all over the guy. Man whore. Player.
And even if it might get her to stay in the city permanently for a change, he couldn’t sit by and allow her to get hurt on his watch. As usual, he’d taken it upon himself to break the news to her. He’d checked the guy out, and sure enough he’d been juggling three other women at the same time. But when he’d confronted Charley with the news, she hadn’t been as grateful as he had expected.
“Did I ask you to do that?” she’d yelled.
“You didn’t have to. Knew you’d want to know.”
“Maybe I didn’t, Dylan, did you ever think of that?”
“Why wouldn’t you want to know? Do you want to live in denial? In a fantasy?”
Like all the other blind believers, he’d almost said out loud. True love and forever wasn’t possible from what he’d witnessed. But if it was, it would start with reality. It would start with two people who were willing to work hard at keeping their love alive, like his parents had.
Charley had continued to yell. “I wasn’t sleeping with the guy! What if he’d gradually stopped dating all the others and wound up with me?”
“Are you serious? Guys like that never settle down.”
“What you mean is he’d never settle down with me!” She’d shoved him. “You just don’t get it. I want to be happy, but you won’t let me.”
“How am I stopping you?”
She’d just stared at him for several long minutes and opened and closed her mouth several times, never saying a single word. There was something she wouldn’t tell him. And that’s when he got to call himself a hypocrite because he also kept plenty from her.
The Accidental Kiss Page 5
