Sweethand

by N. G. Peltier

  She had her head cupped in her oven-mitt-covered hands, the cakes cooling on the counter next to her when Keiran came up behind her.

  “Cherisse.” Perhaps he’d realized the effect the use of her nickname had on her. He sounded wary, unsure. As he should be. She had no idea what she would do if he came any closer.

  “You should go,” she said without turning around, lifting her head to stare at the wall beneath her cabinets. “Send me your playlist suggestions. We’ll go from there.” Calm, so calm. Something she didn’t feel at all right now, but she’d fake it until it felt true. She might need to take care of some other business when he left because she’d gotten riled up from that kiss alone.

  “So, that’s it?” His tone was incredulous. What was he expecting exactly? That they’d carry on, make out some more, like that was normal for them? Because it wasn’t.

  “Just please go. I can’t right now, okay?”

  “Alright,” he said. She listened as his steps retreated, glanced over her shoulder to ensure he’d really gone. The slamming of her front door was proof enough of that.

  She touched her lips, fingers tapping along the seam. The swirl in her belly swiftly gave way to dread.

  Fucking hell, what did they just do?

  Chapter 15

  Keiran

  EVERYTHING HURT. HE’D been going at it the last hour or so, and finally, his body said enough. The gym was mostly empty on a Sunday, so he could wallow in the pain as he basically flopped onto his back, body coated in sweat, muscles screaming. Not that it mattered. Surely, he wouldn’t be the first person to just lie on his back like this in the gym, like his spine was now fused to the floor, and he’d never get back up again.

  He just needed to lay here a bit. Not think about sugary kisses. Definitely not dwell on hands that held his head in place to deliver more of the same sweet kisses he was totally not thinking about. She’d taken charge of that kiss, had steered it into something more intense, and Keiran hadn’t minded at all. It was so hot following her lead.

  Dammit! Clearly, his intense workout hadn’t tired him out enough because sure enough, his brain went there, tossing in the feel of her body against his as an added fun bonus.

  They hadn’t spoken in a week since the world’s most ill-timed kiss, but they’d have to eventually. It was already April. There were shower details to finalize. They had to pull this off. Eric and Ava deserved the best. Then, the wedding after that. Avoiding each other forever wasn’t feasible. Keiran didn’t even want to—that was all Cherisse. He wanted to explore where that kiss had been about to go. If they’d made it to the couch, he suspected they’d catch the damn thing on fire with the heat that had been rolling off them both.

  “Yo. What you doing, man?”

  Keiran opened his eyes and stared up at his best friend. Scott was frowning down at him as he wiped away his workout sweat with a towel, two bottles of water cradled against his side.

  “Taking a nap. Contemplating life. You know, the usual.”

  Scott dropped down next to Keiran, placing one of the bottles near him. “What’s going on with you? You were wailing on that punching bag like it insulted your mother or something.”

  Keiran blew out a breath, cheeks puffing up as he exhaled. He hadn’t told Scott about the kiss yet. He’d told Maxine. Well, more like she’d pried it out of him. His twin had a knack for that.

  “Nothing, I’m good. Just blowing off some steam.”

  “Uh-huh,” Scott said, voice heavy with disbelief.

  Scott and Maxine were way too in tune with his moods; it was annoying and yet sort of comforting, knowing that they knew him so well. They were two of the most important people in his circle, and he knew he could trust them to offer up advice, tell him like it is, hold nothing back.

  He should just blurt it out, get it over with. Scott was his boy, his best friend. They held each other’s secrets safe. It shouldn’t be so hard to answer him honestly. Scott already figured there was something there with him and Cherisse, at least on Keiran’s end anyway. Cherisse had been into the kiss. Her reaction didn’t lie—she’d kissed him back, enthusiastically—but her actions after were loud and clear. Regret.

  Scott watched him intently, sipping his water, waiting, trying to wear him down into spilling.

  “I kissed Cherisse. Not sure how to process it yet? It’s been a long week,” he said, creakily getting to his feet. Damn, he’d really gone too hard. He needed to get home and rest before people descended onto his back yard. His mother was throwing Maxi a welcome home BBQ. A bit late after the fact, but any excuse to feed and entertain people. Keiran had been roped into DJing, which would be a simple laptop and playlist affair. He wasn’t inclined to do anything else.

  Scott spewed cold water all over Keiran. “Holy shit. When? What’d she do? Why the hell didn’t you tell me this before?”

  His own fault, really. He could have timed that better. After wiping at the water trickling down his neck, Keiran spilled the whole story, snickering as Scott’s face went through a range of emotions. A smirk at the dancing, waggled brows at Cherisse’s challenging words and the kissing, then pursed lips when Keiran got to the not-so-great end.

  “Ah, well. She was right there with you with the kissing, escalating things too. That’s got to count for something.” Scott sounded way more confident than Keiran felt.

  “She thinks it’s a mistake.”

  “Did she say that?” Not out loud, but Keiran just knew. Plus, she was avoiding him. “There could still be hope,” Scott insisted. “Or, I don’t know, maybe she just hates your guts even more now.”

  Hope. Something Keiran didn’t want to allow to grow. They headed for the showers while Scott continued to theorize on Cherisse needing some time to process.

  BY THE TIME HE GOT home, it was almost noon. His mother had been blowing up his phone because guests were set to arrive at 1 p.m. as if they ever would. Most of his family worked on Trini time, which meant the guests wouldn’t show up until two at the earliest.

  He needed to figure out how to come at this Cherisse situation. Should he approach her? Be the one to reach out first, so they could stop avoiding this and just talk about it? He shoved all that away. Right now, his main focus was a power nap, if his mother would let him be.

  His niece greeted him at the door, Scooby trailing behind, tail wagging. “Uncle Keiran!”

  “Hey, sweetie.”

  Leah grabbed his hand, dragging him inside. “The pretty lady brought cupcakes!” she announced, thick plaits swinging as she jumped up and down excitedly. Keiran stiffened. Pretty lady with cupcakes could be anyone; it didn’t have to mean Cherisse. Yes, he recalled his mother’s casual mention of this very BBQ, but had she extended an official invitation and not mentioned it?

  Leah led them towards the kitchen just as Maxine swept out with a tray of food. “Finally! Go set up the music before I have to hear another grumble about it.”

  He gently slipped his hand out of Leah’s. “Is she here?”

  Maxine didn’t ask who he meant. “Yes, with her mom.”

  “A heads-up text would’ve been nice.”

  Maxine shrugged. “I was busy. Just get your laptop and set up. Don’t go in there.”

  He ignored Maxine, who rolled her eyes and gestured for Leah to follow her outside. Taking several deep, calming breaths, he pushed into the kitchen, not quite believing Cherisse was really here, but of course, she was. After ignoring him all week—except to discuss party planning—she was leaning against the counter, laughing with his mother. In that split second before she turned and caught sight of him, Keiran drank in her laugh, genuine and loud. He adored it.

  Her laughter died away, causing his mother’s gaze to shift to him.

  “I’m setting up the music. I promise.”

  “Good. Let me see if Devon got enough ice. I swear, just because I didn’t give him a precise headcount, he’s trippin’ over how many bags to get.”

  As soon as his mother breez
ed out of the kitchen, Keiran demanded, “What are you doing here?”

  “Your mother invited us.”

  “I didn’t think you’d come, considering.”

  Her cheeks reddened. Her hand kept plucking at the skirt of her maxi dress. It was sleeveless and yellow, with little blue flowers. Cute. She was always cute. And sexy. And bossy. Especially when grabbing the back of his head to kiss him harder. He needed to redirect his thoughts right now.

  “Look, you know your mother. I couldn’t refuse her invitation. My mother would also think it weird if I did.”

  “You’ve been avoiding me, and then you just what? Expected to show up like nothing happened?” No point in wasting time on small talk. He was addressing this now.

  “Yes. With good reason. I know I said what I said.”

  Do it. The challenge had been clear.

  “Ask, and ye shall receive,” he said calmly as if the very notion of her being here didn’t have him on edge. Any one of his family members could walk in. It wasn’t the best place to have this talk, but she’d stepped into his domain. He wasn’t letting this chance slip by. He leaned against the counter, letting his gym bag slip to the floor so he could fold his arms and wait.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’d be here?” he asked the same time as she blurted, “It was a mistake.”

  And there it was, just like clockwork. “Your mouth’s saying one thing, but, Cherry, the way you’re staring at my mouth is singing a different tune.”

  Her eyes snapped up to his. She opened her mouth, clamped it shut, chewed her lip as she glared at him, then finally said, “Don’t call me that. We’re definitely not at nickname tier yet. Look, I got caught up in the moment. That’s it. What’s your excuse for wanting to kiss me?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like. Kissing you.” He let his voice go low. “Gotta say, my imagination didn’t prepare me for any of it. Don’t think I’ll look at red velvet cake the same again.”

  Her eyes shifted to the dessert box, resting next to her on the counter. He hadn’t even noticed it. Cherisse was all he saw the minute he’d entered the kitchen.

  “I didn’t think this through,” she muttered.

  “Neither did I,” he admitted. He’d seen a moment, felt the tension swirling between them. He was certain he hadn’t imagined it, so he’d taken a leap. The kiss would change their dynamic, had already done that. So much for that truce. He hadn’t given a second thought to what came after the kiss.

  Cherisse huffed out a breath. “Let’s just forget it happened, okay?”

  Like he could. Like it was so simple. There was no forgetting. Not for him. “Why did you let me kiss you?”

  Her mouth worked open and closed, but she didn’t say anything. It would be amusing, except Keiran was in pain and wanted to just hide out in his room. Or the studio, where he could listen to the rough cut of her track again and remember every minute detail of that kiss. He moved to close the space between them because why not? Why not make it worse by getting close enough to drink in her scent?

  The kitchen door swung open, and Cherisse’s mother swept in, effectively destroying their moment, a huge smile on her face until she landed on Keiran. Her smile vanished completely as she said, “Keiran.” As if the letters of his name left a bad taste in her mouth.

  “Mrs. Gooding. Nice to see you.” It wasn’t, but Keiran had been raised to always be polite to elders, even if they didn’t follow that same rule.

  Mrs. Gooding had certainly made no secret about her feelings towards him. She obviously believed the rumors too, but Keiran knew she was also protective of her daughters and had incredibly high standards for them. In her mind, he’d been lumped into Sean Daley’s category and didn’t deserve a lick of her time or Cherisse’s. But she was civil when his mother was around.

  Not so much now.

  He stepped back from Cherisse, and her mother dismissed him with a flick of her honey brown locks as she turned to her daughter. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  Cherisse’s mouth pursed. “Who?”

  “Don’t do that with your face, it’s unbecoming. Let’s not dismiss him until you meet him. He’s good-looking, polite, and a pediatrician, which means he’s good with kids. Sheryl assures me he’s a nice young man. Respectable.”

  Mrs. Gooding punctuated that last word by looking right at Keiran. He continued to say nothing but sent her a winning smile because he wasn’t going to satisfy her by letting on that he was in any way affected by her insinuation that he wasn’t respectable.

  And did she say, pediatrician? Keiran had a cousin who fit that description, but shit, it couldn’t be. Jerome was all those things but also gay, which wasn’t a known fact in his family. In fact, he was the only one Jerome had outright told, as far as he knew. To everyone else, it was hushed speculation or downright cluelessness.

  Cherisse spared Keiran a brief glance before grabbing up the dessert box. “I need to take these cupcakes outside.” She breezed by her mother, who shot Keiran another look like he was to blame for Cherisse’s reluctance.

  In this instance, a tiny part of him hoped he was.

  Chapter 16

  Cherisse

  KEIRAN’S EYES WERE on her, burning into her skin.

  Calm. Cool. Collected.

  Her mantra since she’d sat down across from Jerome, who had awkwardly turned out to be Keiran’s cousin. She should have aborted the whole thing then, but her masochistic streak wouldn’t let her, apparently, and she couldn’t help comparing Keiran and Jerome, even though the only thing they had in common was their smooth brown skin. Jerome was clean-shaven, and right now, Keiran had more stubble going on, which wasn’t ideal for her wayward thoughts.

  Soft. It looked so soft.

  Fuck.

  Cherisse kept up her nods and smiles, occasionally joining in when she was asked something, but barely. Too caught up in her thoughts. This wasn’t her. She was good at this, great at making small talk, came with the job when you had to put yourself and your business out there. But she was too aware of Keiran stationed behind his laptop as he cranked out song after song. And the damn kiss that hung between them.

  Then dessert.

  It was her fault, really. She hadn’t even thought about the cupcakes when she’d decided to make them. Red velvet. Fucking hell.

  Don’t think I’ll look at red velvet cake the same again.

  Keiran’s eyes had gone wide when his mother opened the dessert box, then that smirk. God, how she hated it, and yet, it sent a flash of heat through her body, had her remembering those lips moving against hers. He sure as hell wasn’t helping by swiping his finger through the frosting, sucking said finger into his mouth, then saying, smile still firmly in place, “My fave.”

  “Hey, cuz.” Jerome’s drawl ripped her away from the memory of that damn finger disappearing into that sinful mouth.

  When had he left his DJ post? And did he have an endless supply of those short-sleeved t-shirts that always seemed to fit him just right? This one was blue and snug, just at the curve of his biceps. Keiran sank into the chair opposite her. Cherisse could feel her mother’s displeasure from here. Everyone had so obviously been told to leave them alone. Not a single person had come over to join them after they’d sat. It was weird, being put on display like this, but Jerome had taken it in stride, so she’d rolled with it too. Keiran clearly didn’t give a shit.

  “‘Sup, J?”

  “Nothing much, just enjoying the company of this lovely lady here.”

  “Hmm,” Keiran hummed, leaning back in his chair, hands resting on his stomach. They exchanged a loaded look that Cherisse had no means of deciphering, then Keiran said, “Lucky man.”

  “From what I hear, you’ve been lucky too.” Jerome grinned. “How’s the party planning going?”

  “Great.” He fixed her with that infuriatingly amused stare. “Our mouths are getting quite the workout...”

  Cherisse choked on her potato sa
lad, face surely turning red as she coughed. She reached for her glass of lime juice and took a huge swig.

  “...from all the talking about our plans,” Keiran finished casually.

  “Whoa, you okay?”

  Cherisse waved off Jerome’s concern, shooting Keiran a glare over her glass. She was going to murder him. He shrugged, broad shoulders making his t-shirt way more appealing than it needed to be.

  Her patience shattered, and she jumped up, chair nearly toppling over behind her. “I need to, uh...bathroom! Excuse me.” Not exactly the smoothest exit. Damn Keiran and his...everything. How dare he? She just couldn’t be around him anymore.

  In the bathroom, fingers gripping the sink, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She’d have some explaining to do. But what could she even say?

  “Get it together, girl,” she told her mirror image. Now wasn’t the time to have a meltdown because of that kiss. She could be cool. Go on like it didn’t mean a damn thing. Because it didn’t. She’d gotten caught up in the music and the dancing. That was it.

  Her phone vibrated in her dress pocket, and she took it out, grateful to see Remi’s smiling face staring back at her.

  “How’s it going?”

  Cherisse looked around the bathroom where she was currently hiding out and considered lying, glossing over her current situation. She hadn’t told Remi about the kiss yet, but she could really use her friend’s soothing right now.

  “Well, I’m hiding out in the King bathroom because Keiran and I kissed last week, and now, it’s a tad awkward. The way he was licking that damn cupcake icing is obscene, and mummy basically tossed his cousin at me, which is beyond fucking awkward, and I dunno if I want to throttle Keiran, or...or...” She hadn’t meant to say that last part. Dammit.

  “What!” Remi shrieked so loudly Cherisse winced, pulling the phone from her ear. “Keiran kissed you?”

  “Well, the vibe was there, and I may have thrown down a challenge, and he took it up, and kissing happened?”