From the first time she’d leaned in front of him wearing a pair of tight jeans and he’d had a good look at her perfectly shaped ass, he’d had ideas. An attraction that he couldn’t deny. Didn’t mean he’d ever act on it. The friendship he had with Charley was solid, permanent, and he knew no matter how far she traveled she’d always be his best friend. That kind of physical distance wouldn’t work in a serious relationship.
Later, he met most of the off-duty crew for drinks. Dylan took a swig of his Corona and glanced around Juan’s, their usual hang-out. The owner kept it colorful and real. Huge sombreros hung from the rafters and tortilla chips and burn-your-tongue-off salsa were served up in Aztec orange and bright red painted bowls. His eye caught a few of the usual suspects in attendance tonight. Women like Jenny Santana, who were always up for a good time, no strings attached. The way he liked it and what he needed tonight. Find a woman, bury himself in her. Relax.
From across the room, he caught Jenny’s eye and smiled at her. She quickly looked away. He’d mostly stayed away from her because of how much Charley disliked her. He couldn’t see any chance at a relationship, even short term, when Charley couldn’t stand to be around the woman. But for one night…who would know? He wondered if Jenny would be game for that, or if, as he feared, she’d be ready for a sailboat cruise at sunset and a marriage proposal shortly after.
Samantha Hill passed by giving him an odd look. No smile. Wouldn’t meet his eyes. It was one of those curled upper lip “I don’t even see you anymore” looks. What was up with that?
“9-11, dude. We have a situation here.” Marco slapped a Corona on the counter top of the bar. “Charley got you big time. It’s the prank to end all pranks.”
“What did she do? Tell everyone I’m wanted in seven states for male prostitution again?” That had been a funny one. A little embarrassing to explain to his mother but otherwise most residents didn’t believe it anyway.
Marco winced. “Apparently you kissed a woman at sunset, found true love, and are now officially engaged. To a 55-year-old woman from San Mateo. It’s got Jenny Santana staying away from you, which is a nice bonus, but unfortunately she of the flapping jaws is telling everyone.”
Suddenly the strange and off-putting looks made sense.
“This prank is just plain mean,” Marco said. “What if I leave Charley’s name and phone number on every men’s room in the city?”
“Hell, no. Are you out of your mind? This is just another one of her pranks. It’s been a while.” He pulled out his phone and texted Charley all in caps.
Apparently, I’m engaged. Nice try. I’ll get you back for this one. Count on it.
A minute later, she texted back.
Busy. Can’t talk right now.
Yeah, right.
Ironic that she should pick the true love sunset at kiss crap to work a prank around. There was a first time for everything. The fact that Charley had pulled this prank said more about her skill as a storyteller than it did anything else. But it never ceased to amaze him how many women wanted to believe.
He’d take care of this in about two seconds flat. He turned to Marco. “Hold my beer.”
Hoisting himself up, Dylan stood on the bar and clapped his hands. He hardly needed to do that to get anyone’s attention. Even in the noisy bar, most were already staring at him, slack-jawed.
“Get down, you fool,” the bartender said.
Dylan ignored that. “I’ll say this once and only once: I’m not engaged. Not to anyone. Didn’t kiss anyone at sunset. Never will. I don’t believe in the stupid legend.”
A gasp from one of the women. Another covered her mouth. Jenny Santana simply glared, eyes narrowed to slits. Yeah, he’d once told her he might be convinced to believe in sunset kisses. He’d been a horny teenager at the time. Sue him.
“Look, there’s no such thing as the legend of the sunset kiss.” He held up air quotes. “It’s good for tourism, but that’s it.”
“I can’t believe you, Dylan Reyes!” Virginia Cruz said, waving a finger at him. “Maybe you don’t believe, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Don’t ruin this for the rest of us. Why discourage everyone else from finding true love? Are you really that bitter?”
Bitter? Not him. He was realistic and sensible. Grounded. Dylan hopped off the bar, chugged the rest of his beer, and slammed it on the counter. “Later.”
“Where you going?” Marco called.
“Somewhere I can plan an elaborate prank.”
9
“Nevertheless she persisted.” ~ meme
It turned out, a prank of the magnitude Dylan was considering could take some time. A plan. Probably a cast of actors he’d need to hire. Not a problem. He could be patient. Stealthy. The best thing about this was going to be watching Charley worry and wonder when and where it would all be coming back to bite her. And how. She’d get jumpy every time anyone came up behind her. Because it might be today, or tomorrow. Maybe next year. But payback would be coming when she’d least expect it.
The next morning, he found himself at the bakery where he waited outside until the last of the morning customers rushed out, pink boxes in hand. When there was a slight lull in activity, he made his way inside. The doorbell dinged, and Charley turned to him.
“Hey, Chuck.” He spread his hands, one on either side of the glass display. Slid her a wicked grin. “How are we doing today?”
Her face already looked flushed. Wait till he got going.
“Are you still mad? Jenny was asking about you again, and…and I thought…”
“Yeah?”
“I thought maybe I could get her to finally leave you alone.”
He felt a smile tugging at his lips and the fact that Charley’s nose was dusted with flour might have had something to do with that. “And everyone else, too?”
“Um, well…” She fisted her apron and swiped at her nose.
“Know what? Let’s forget it,” he said, meaning no such thing.
“What? Really?”
“Yeah, I’m sure no one’s going to believe it anyway. Marco and Joe will spread the word and they both know a lot of women.”
“Oh, yeah. You’re right.” She bit her lower lip, looking disappointed.
“As long as you show me where the magic happens.” He nudged his chin toward the back of the counter.
He’d never been allowed in the back nor was anyone else. One of Coral’s many rules.
“Why?” she said, suspicion heavy in her tone, eyes narrowed. “Is this some kind of trick? Aha! You’re going to prank me now right after you told me to forget about it. Well, good luck. I’m on to you.”
Man, this was fun. “How long have we known each other? How long have I heard you complain about the old ovens, the heat, and the flour? How long have I been coming here to get donuts, but I’ve never been in the back?”
“Customers aren’t allowed in the back,” Charley said, crossing her arms and echoing Coral’s mantra.
“I’m not just a customer.” He rocked back on his heels. “I’m a friend of the family. Plus, you owe me. Thanks to you, I’m engaged.”
“You never cared to see what happened back there before. You always send someone else for the fire safety inspection.”
He simply stared and quirked a brow, knowing his silence had always worked for him.
“Oh, alright fine,” Charley unhooked the partition door. “But don’t tell Milly. She already thinks I’m going to break the bakery.”
He followed her to the back and the large utility double ovens. There was a large walk-in type refrigerator. Jars of sugar, cinnamon, salt and other spices were shelved above the long wooden counter top. A huge sack of flour in a corner. Another one of sugar. Flour dusted everything.
“So.” He nodded his approval. “This is it.”
“Did you think you were going to find a unicorn back here? It’s just a kitchen. A small hot kitchen.” She wiped at her brow.
For reasons he could not explain, his gaze
slid to her lips, plump and pink. Then, force of habit made him correct himself and instead he tucked a loose hair behind her ear. A few stragglers had fallen from the ponytail she always worked in. He was just helping. No other reason. She stared at him for a moment. Opened her mouth, then shut it. The air seemed electric between them, the tension and heat thick. Dylan hadn’t planned on flirting when he made his way back here. This was Charley.
He’d simply wanted her jittery, wondering if the prank return was coming, and he’d succeeded. It was time to go now. Mission accomplished. Instead, he kept staring like he’d never seen her before. Her eyes were a deep hazel with flecks of gold. Had he never been close enough to notice that before? He took in her dark blonde hair, wavy and unmanageable most of the time. It was the type of thick hair a man loved to fist during a wild kiss. Whoa. Where had that come from?
The phone rang, and the moment was lost.
She blinked. “Be right back.”
This was his exit opportunity. He could leave right now and catch up with her later. They could both pretend nothing had happened here. No moment in which they’d both locked gazes in a way they never had before. He didn’t want to ask himself why his boots stayed rooted to the floor. Didn’t want to question why he was wondering what color of panties Charley wore and if she matched them to her shirt the way she matched her ever-present Chuck Taylors. She had them in black and white checkers, black, white, blue, neon pink, purple and green.
“I’m handling this,” Charley was saying from the phone behind the front counter. “Would you relax, already? You’re giving me a complex!”
A few more moments of talk and then the entrance door chimed. Another customer. Charley was back several minutes later. He was still here. Why am I still here? The simple answer: no freaking idea.
Charley eyed him suspiciously again. Her gaze went to his hands. “What did you do back here while I was gone? Did you switch the sugar for the salt? No fair! The pranks can’t risk our careers. We agreed.”
“Please. Sugar for salt? That’s amateur shit.”
“Good, because I was going to check anyway.” She tugged on the back tie of her oversized apron. “I know you’re going to get back at me sooner or later.”
“In due time. All in due time.”
“Okay,” she sighed. “Just don’t be too mean. Make it a funny one.”
Dylan stepped into her, one booted foot on either side of hers. His rough and callused hands slid down her unbelievably silky soft arms and settled on her hips. “Why? Because my getting engaged was so funny?”
“Um…” She had the decency to find her shoes completely fascinating for a moment. “Yes?”
“Hilarious.” He tipped her chin to meet his eyes, testing his boundaries. His thumb brushed across her nose and removed the smudge there. “Flour.”
“It gets everywhere.” She stared past his fingers, to his lips, and he’d swear there was an invitation in her eyes.
They were no longer arguing. No longer disagreeing. In that moment, Dylan understood he’d just crossed a self-imposed line with Charley. He had no idea why or how this had happened, but there it was. She’d burrowed deeply under his skin. Since the moment she’d come back, he’d known something was off. Different. He stopped thinking about when or how or why, and it seemed like the single most natural thing in the world to pull her to him and dip his head to meet her lips. The heat between them almost suffocated him with its power. It seemed to float between them and surround him like the city’s fog. But unlike the fog it wasn’t showing any sign of dissipating.
If he’d intended to kiss her at all, face it, he should have made the kiss sweet and chaste. To his credit, and he would take all the credit he could get right now, that noble intention lasted about ten whole seconds. Then he lost his head when electricity pulsed through him. The kiss was a long, wet, deep kiss that demanded entry. She parted her lips and let him inside, clutching at his shirt with both fists. He kept kissing, angling her head so he could go deeper. Clearly losing his mind. No chaste and tender kiss this one, nothing sweet and tender. She reciprocated, and before long, it wasn’t just the ovens that were hot back here.
He hadn’t seen that coming.
An attraction had obviously bubbled beneath the surface for years. Right? Good. Made sense. It was logic. This was the reason for the smoldering heat of this first kiss. Great. He felt better already.
Dylan pulled back and bent to press his forehead to hers, his breaths coming a bit ragged. “Sorry about that.”
Charley gripped his shirt, fisting it tight. “No. You don’t get to be sorry. I won’t let you.”
“Let’s not argue, Chuck. Not now. I think we better take five.”
“I know what this is. You think you can control what just happened between us, too. But sometimes things just… happen.”
He shook his head. “No. Nothing just happens. We all make choices.”
“Like you, choosing to kiss me?”
He rolled his shoulders. “Yeah. Like that.”
“Was it just me or was that kiss…really amazing?” She studied him with luminous eyes.
He stared at the pink sensual tip of her lips. The mouth he’d nearly devoured not long ago. And he was…a little out of his element here. “It was.”
“You felt something.”
“I am obviously attracted to you. I just didn’t know this before...that kiss.” He cleared his throat. “Here’s the thing. I’m going to suggest that we forget about what just happened here and move on.”
“Wow,” Charley said. “Just…wow.”
“What?”
“You’re that afraid of me, are you?”
“The hell I am.”
“No, you’re right. You’re not afraid.” She shook her head. “You’re terrified.”
“Excuse me?”
“Big bad Dylan Reyes. Firefighter and rescuer. Hero to all. Afraid of a girl.”
“Stop.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not a hero and I’m sure not afraid of you.”
“I can see that.” She smirked, then crossed her arms. “Because you want to forget all about this.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m afraid. I’ve just had…better conversations.”
“No doubt. Maybe ones where you get to win the argument, for instance.”
“We’re not arguing.” He was starting to get annoyed. “No one here is winning or losing.”
“Uh-huh. Spoken like someone who’s losing. And anyway, what’s wrong with kissing me?”
For the life of him, he couldn’t think of a thing. It was…so damn unexpected. Unplanned. For someone who planned for everything, it was unnerving. “Nothing.”
Her gaze softened. “Nothing at all.”
“Except for the fact that you’re working, this kitchen is hot and stuffy, I’m getting hot and sweaty, and I’m due at the boarding house to do some repairs, I can think of nothing.”
“Oh.” Her hands skimmed down the front of his shirt, resting on his abs. “So, it’s not me, then? You don’t want to take five because it’s me you kissed?”
“No,” he said, not happy to see that old flash of insecurity in Charley’s gaze. “And don’t do that.”
When she’d left the city on her first culinary adventure, he’d thought she was running toward her future, confident in herself. But maybe Charley wasn’t running to something so much as she was running away. She kept coming back, but never to stay.
Why was it so hard for her to stay?
“Okay. I’m sorry.”
“The hell you are. I won’t let you,” he said, repeating her words.
She smiled a little. “But if you don’t want me, it’s okay. I understand.”
“I want you.” His temper almost got the better of him, and he tugged her by the elbows. “Listen. That kiss was hot. You’re fucking beautiful. A knockout.”
“No, you don’t have to say that. I’m not—”
“To me, you are.”
Neither one of them sp
oke for one long moment.
Charley broke the silence with the question that had been wrapping itself around his brain for the past several minutes. “What are we going to do?”
He had no freaking clue. Talking himself out of this explosive attraction before he wound up hurting her was his only idea and he already hated it. “Like I said. Take five.”
She sighed. “Okay, Dylan. We’ll do it your way.”
10
“Always be nice to the chef.” ~ Apron
Dylan headed over to the boarding house his mother and grandmother ran to take care of a few last-minute jobs before the celebration on the Fourth. He’d looked for Joe to get his help this morning, but his youngest brother wasn’t anywhere to be found.
He and his brothers had grown up in the three-story Victorian that had been in the family for generations and that initially housed only their extended family until his father died. After that, his mother and grandmother had been forced to take in boarders, and he and his brothers learned to live with strangers. Learned to understand that everything and everyone other than family was transient. Temporary.
Mom greeted him at the door. “Well, well. If it isn’t my eldest come to pay his mother a visit.”
“Been busy, but I’m here now.” He stepped inside and followed Mom into the kitchen.
“Oh, busy. I’m not familiar with the term. But I can only imagine how busy you must be when you didn’t have time to tell me you’re engaged!”
Dylan winced. He shouldn’t have been surprised, considering how many boarders came and went through here every day. It gave new meaning to the old telephone game. He was surprised this time they’d gotten the rumor right.
“And just who am I engaged to?”
“A sixty-five-year old widow from Walnut Creek. Dylan, really? Are you out of your mind? You didn’t think this was important enough to come right over and tell me?”
Nope. The old telephone game again.
“We need to meet this woman of yours, Mijo.” Abuelita stood at the kitchen stove and stirred a pot of what had to be arroz con pollo, given the welcome smells of tomato sauce, hamhock and onions wafting through the kitchen.
The Accidental Kiss Page 6
