Just A Kiss

by Tessier, Shantel

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Prologue

  Ring in The New Year …

  About the Author

  Also by Shantel Tessier

  Just A Kiss

  Copyright © 2019 by Shantel Tessier

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For more information about the author and her books, visit her website- www.shanteltessierauthor.com. You can sign up for her newsletter on her website, or you can click on the link below. The newsletter is the only place to get exclusive teasers, first to know about current projects and release dates. And also have chances to win some amazing giveaways- http://goo.gl/4wd9CV

  Editor—Jenny Sims; Editing4Indies

  Cover Design—T.E. Black Designs; www.teblackdesigns.com

  Interior Formatting & Design—T.E. Black Designs; www.teblackdesigns.com

  with a New Year come new possibilities and a blank slate! What a better way to ring it in than with stories to help create good cheer. So, whether it’s a happy ending or happy beginning, we got you covered! These stories will have you falling in love, grinning ear to ear as characters count down to a new year! Join us on this adventure and remember, this is the first page of your new year. Make it shine bright! May your glass of champagne never be empty and the clock strike midnight while kissing the one you love!

  Always, Your Authors!

  Looking over the paperwork I received in the mail today makes my chest tighten with worry.

  Dear Miss Stikes,

  We have not heard back from you regarding your mother’s, Eleanor Stikes, outstanding bill …

  I skim over most of it until I get to a word that makes me pause and my head spin. Forced discharge.

  Can they do that? Can someone who needs around-the-clock care be kicked out of a nursing home?

  No! They can’t. They wouldn’t. Would they?

  My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and I fold up the letter, then pull out my phone to read the incoming text.

  I won’t be able to make it this weekend.

  Letting out a long breath, I see it’s my brother, the only other person who can help me out with our mother and her bills. My fingers run over the keys as I type back.

  You need to be here!

  I tap my foot on the floor when I see he’s read the message and the three dots begin to dance around, indicating he’s typing. My phone vibrates in my hand.

  Lynn has something this weekend. We’ll come next weekend.

  I sniff to hold back the tears threatening to fall. He’s clearly blowing me off. My brother can be such a dick, but I’m not sure why I’m so surprised. He never comes to see our mother. Or me, for that matter. It’s a miracle he’s even taking the time to respond to me right now. We’ve never been close since he chose to live with our father when our parents split so long ago. He moved to California to live with him while I stayed here in Chicago with Mom. And don’t even get me started on Lynn, his wife. She hates me, but the feeling is mutual. She’s an upscale bitch who looks down her nose at me.

  She’s dying, Jamie. Don’t you wanna say goodbye to her? You already missed Christmas. Who knows how much longer she has.

  It’s true. Who knows how much longer she has once they kick her out. What will I do? I can’t quit both of my jobs to take care of her. And I can’t afford to put her in another home.

  I bite my bottom lip when I see the dots begin to bounce around, but then they stop. They begin again before stopping. “Fucking respond,” I growl out loud. But this time, they don’t return. I’ve pissed him off, and now he’ll use that as an excuse not to come. I shove my phone into my back pocket to keep from messaging him anymore along with my folded letter. He has a way of getting under my skin and ruining my day. And I don’t have time for that right now.

  “Who were you talking to?” Duke asks.

  “No one,” I answer with a sigh and walk over to the sink. Trying to keep my mind off what I’m going to do about my mother, I begin to wash glasses. The letter said I had thirty days, and it’s dated ten days ago. I need more time.

  Jamie could help me, but he doesn’t care, so he won’t. He won’t even come to see us. Not that our mother would know the difference. I visit her several times a week, and she doesn’t even know it’s me. But I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just turned my back on her. It’s obvious we don’t share the same values.

  The smell of cigarettes hits me before the cloud of smoke. I look up at the guy sitting at the bar as he blows another smoke ring out while he openly stares at the woman sitting next to him. Her big and perfectly round fake breasts are on full display in a low-cut gold top with shoestrings holding the thin fabric together on the sides. I’m pretty sure she’s a hooker. They come in here often. Not like I judge. Though I do feel they’d make more money if they went somewhere else or maybe dressed a little nicer.

  The Horseshoe is known for nothing good, but here I am for another night. It’s my second job. I hate this place, but every dollar counts. Well, I thought it did, but obviously, it’s not enough.

  “Hey, hottie,” a guy behind me calls out.

  I ignore him. I ignore most of them. That’s probably why I don’t make much money here. If you want to survive off tips, then you need to play the part of a seductive woman. I am not.

  Mom needs the money! She’s gonna get kicked out of the nursing home, and you can’t take care of her alone.

  He pounds his hand on the bar. “Hey. I’m talking to you.”

  Resolved to do my best for my mother, I plaster on a smile and spin around, my hair whipping me in the face. “What can I get you?” I ask, leaning over the bar to allow what little tits I have to catch his brown eyes. Now I feel like the woman behind me who is allowing her date to drool over her for money. Guess we’re not that different after all.

  His dark hair is slicked back with too much gel, giving it an oily look, and the beard he is trying to grow is lacking. He winks at me. “You.”

  Original. As if I haven’t heard that one hundred times tonight. “I’m taken,” I say, holding up my left hand to show off the wedding ring.

  His smile widens as if the thought of me being legally bound to another human being makes me even more attractive. But why wouldn’t it? It would mean that if he managed to get me into bed, he wouldn’t have to see me again. “Aren’t we all?” He lifts his hand and shows me his gold band.

  Douche. Just when you think you can’t hate men more than you already do, they prove you wrong.

  “What can I get you to drink?” I’m more specific this time.

  His eyes drop to my chest when he answers. “A tall glass of you.”

  Okay. I’m done. I push off the bar and spin around to walk over to the other side but come to a stop when I catch sight of a man entering the dimly lit bar. He doesn’t fit in here. The Horseshoe is full of college kids and men who know their wives would never come to this side of town. The guys who occupy this run-down joint wear wrinkl
ed T-shirts and tennis shoes, so this guy stands out like a sore thumb in black slacks, a dark blue button-up, and a black vest and tie. He’s alone, which also surprises me. Men like Asher Kyle are never alone. Or in this part of town.

  “Hey, bitch! You gonna get me my drink or not?” the guy shouts from behind me. Mr. Douche.

  When I spin back around to face him, he glares at me. Reaching over, I grab the bottle of vodka, pour it into a shot glass, and then throw it in his face. “Drink up.”

  He jumps up from his seat so fast that the barstool falls over and hits the floor. “What the fuck?”

  “It’s on the house,” I say with a smile.

  He slaps his hands down on the bar and then begins to climb over it when a hand grabs his shoulder and yanks him back. The guy looks the man up and down and then points at me. “Are you the manager? If so, I want her fired. She just threw alcohol in my face.”

  Asher crosses his arms over his broad chest, his dark blue eyes looking down at the douche, and my heart begins to race. This is why I avoid him. Men don’t make me weak in the knees or my palms sweat, but Asher Kyle isn’t like any other man. He’s much more. And that scares the hell out of me.

  “And you insulted her.”

  Vodka drips off the guy’s face and onto his shirt. It was only a shot glass, so it’s not like it had much in it. “Fuck you, dude …”

  Asher grabs him by the collar, shoving him through the crowd and right out the front door while the guy cusses me the entire time.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I dig it out quickly, accidentally grabbing the letter as well. I slap the folded piece of paper on the bar and open my messages to see what my brother has to say, but it’s not him. It’s my best friend, Hadley.

  I called you earlier, but you never called me back.

  I close out the message because I don’t have time to talk to her right now. I look up and see that the woman with the gold top now occupies the vodka-shot-in-the-face guy’s seat. Setting down a hundred-dollar bill, she says, “Thank God someone finally put that bastard in his place. He’s continued to hit on me all night even after I repeatedly told him I wasn’t here for him.” She blows some brown strands away from her face.

  I smile at her. “What can I get you?”

  “I’ll take a shot of vodka in honor of the jackass.”

  I pour her a shot and grab the money off the bar. She downs it while I get her change. “How long have you worked here, sweetie?” she asks.

  “Four years.”

  She gives me a kind smile. “Ever thought about moving up in the world?”

  I chuckle. “Moving up? Where to exactly?”

  She takes a twenty-dollar bill from her change and picks up a pen off the bar. She begins to scribble something on it and then slides it to me. “Call me. We can talk.”

  The man who was sitting by her earlier walks out of the men’s restroom and comes to stand beside her. “Ready to go, beautiful?”

  “When you are.” She smiles at him.

  He grabs her hand and pulls her away from the bar as she throws me a wink. I look down at the twenty to see she wrote Cherry and a phone number on it. I go to look up to ask her why she gave me this, but instead, I come face to face with a set of dark blue eyes. I swallow nervously and try to plaster a smile on my face as though he doesn’t affect me. Even though we both know he does. “So what do I owe you for taking out the trash?” I ask, placing the twenty in the glass tip jar on the bar.

  Asher doesn’t smile at my joke. Instead, he sighs heavily. He’s disappointed in me. Well, get in line, buddy. “Why are you here, Andi?”

  He calls me Andi. No one has ever given me a nickname before, and I hate how it does something to me. He took the time to call me something no one else does as though I’m special. Not that I am, though. He probably nicknames every girl he fucks. I’m just one in a long line.

  I place my forearms on the bar, ignoring the way my pussy throbs when his eyes peek at my chest. “Why are you here?”

  “Meeting a client,” he answers, his voice sounding indifferent. But I don’t miss the way he licks his lips. I wonder if he thinks of me as I do him?

  “Isn’t that why you have an office?” Stay behind the bar! You are not a wild animal, and we are not in the jungle. Do not attack!

  He doesn’t answer this time, just stares at me and my legs tighten. “What can I get you?” I ask, looking away from him because I’m unable to keep his stare. We have a past. A very recent past that I’ve tried to forget. But it’s been harder to do than I care to admit.

  I don’t have time for a man. Especially a guy like Asher Kyle. I’ll have to get a third job to pay my mother’s bills, and I have a feeling that Asher is high maintenance. I know men like him. I very rarely get to see my best friend anymore thanks to his twin, Aiden Kyle.

  He opens his mouth to say something when a guy comes up behind him and taps him on the shoulder. He spins around and shakes the man’s hand. He’s dressed like all the other bastards who come in here and looks as though they haven’t showered in days. Then Asher taps the bar with his knuckles. “Have a waitress bring us two glasses of whiskey,” he says before disappearing into the crowd.

  * * *

  I nod and pretend as though I give a fuck about what my client is saying to me. Honestly, once you’ve heard one lie, you’ve heard them all, right? Of course, he’s not innocent, but my job as a defense attorney isn’t to judge. It’s to fool everyone else into believing his fabricated truth.

  Instead of paying attention to the man, my eyes stray to the woman behind the bar. The tall blonde who has had my mind in a daze and my cock hard for the past two weeks. Over the past two years, we haven’t spent much time around one another. But I’ve always known when she’s in a room. She brings Hadley lunch to the office sometimes, and I watch her every move. She always catching my staring. I’ve never been one to keep my desires to myself, and I sure as hell am not going to cut her any slack. And I see how she watches me over her shoulder. Or licks her lips while her eyes run over my body. When we finally had our chance on the beach, I was done for. In the worst way. Now here I am, sitting in her bar filled with cigarette smoke and BO drinking shit whiskey and thinking of all the ways she can make it up to me.

  “I can have witnesses …”

  “Can they be trusted?” I ask him.

  He frowns. “Yes. They would never turn on me.”

  I pick up my glass and sit back in my seat. “Don’t be so sure.” He swallows and takes a quick gulp of his drink. “I’ve seen people flip for many reasons. And every time, the convicted swore they had their alliance.”

  “I’ll make sure of it.”

  My eyes look over his shoulder to Andrea, and she’s leaning over the bar talking to a waitress. My eyes trail over her tank top and what little breasts she has. I’ve always been a boob guy. The bigger, the better, but every time I try to tell myself she’s not my type, I ignore it. That’s why I’m here tonight instead of anywhere else in Chicago. I could have met him at my office as she had suggested. I have after-hour meetings all the time, but I wanted to see her. Two weeks ago, we had an entire night full of passion. I had waited two years to get her in my bed, and now she wants to pretend it never happened. Yeah, that’s not gonna work for me. I expected her to call me once we returned to Chicago, but she never did. All she would have to do is get my number from Hadley, her best friend and my sister-in-law. I quickly realized I need to take the next step. She stands up straight and throws her head back, letting out a laugh, and it reminds me of the last time I saw her. Two weeks ago on the beach.

  I walk out of my hut and see a blonde sitting on the beach. It’s Andrea. I recognize the yellow bridesmaid dress that she wore for my brother’s wedding just hours ago.

  I take steps to close the space. “May I have a seat?”

  She looks up from her phone and gives me a drunken smile. “Sure.” Then she sets the phone down next to her.

  I remove my black ve
st and sit down. “Ever been here before?” I ask her. Aiden, Hadley, and I have been in Tahiti for two weeks now, but she just arrived yesterday. And I heard her tell Hadley earlier that she is leaving tomorrow.

  She shakes her head. “No. But you can bet your ass I’ll be back.” She laughs as though she’s told a joke, and I like the way it makes her face light up. “It’s absolutely breathtaking.”

  “I agree.” But I’m not talking about the island. Instead, I’m referring to the way the gentle breeze blows her hair around. Her lips are pulled back in a smile that I don’t even think she knows she’s wearing. The left strap of her dress has fallen off her sun-tanned shoulder. She’s just as beautiful as the ocean before us but in her own way.

  “How many times have you been here?” she asks, looking over at me.

  “Too many to count.”

  She nods and chuckles at my answer. “Not surprised. You guys must travel a lot?”

  I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them, focusing on the waves rolling in. “We did when we were younger.”

  “What happened?”

  I look back over at her. “Life. School and then career.” I shrug. “Things just get in the way.”

  “Is that why Aiden and Hadley picked this place to get married?”

  “I suppose.”

  She looks down at her hands in the sand. “I never asked her why here. I just figured it was because she was running from her mother and stepdad.”

  “I’m sure that played a part in it.” I agree with her even though I don’t really know much about Hadley’s personal life. I stay pretty clear of that.