Last First Kiss: A Second Chance Standalone Romance

by Jane Anthony

  I slip my finger under his palm, and his tiny digits close around it. “He’s amazing, Bird,” I whisper over the lump forming in my throat. “What’s his name?”

  Tears threaten to burst through her lashes. She swipes her knuckle across her eyes. Cradling the baby in the crook of her arm, she lifts him higher so I can see him better. “Jesse, I’d like you to meet Dylan Elliot.”

  My jaw goes slack. “Dylan?”

  She tears her loving gaze away from the baby and brings it up to meet mine. “He may not share your genetic bond, but he’s just as much yours as he is Asher’s.”

  My voice comes out a strained whisper. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Just say you love me.”

  I slip my arm around her back and pull her to me as best as I can. “I do love you,” I mutter against her hair, raining kisses down across her cheek and down her jaw. “I love you both.” My lips press against his warm head. “So much.”

  Asher’s presence hovers in the doorway. “Uh . . . can I come in?”

  “Of course,” Wren says with a small giggle.

  He hangs over her bed, a shell-shocked stupor replacing his stoic expression. “My son,” he says.

  “Dylan,” she corrects. “You want to hold him?”

  Fright passes across his eyes. “I-I dunno . . .”

  “It’s okay. You can’t hurt him. Make sure you hold his head.”

  Asher takes a seat on the edge of her bed as she sets baby Dylan down in his arms. He sits like a statue, rigid and still, his brows clipped as he examines him closely. “He’s a handsome boy.”

  “He’s perfect,” she croons, touching his red-cotton wisps.

  I should be jealous watching them together because I’m an outsider in that family of three, but something inside me today feels different. The usual voices blathering in my ear have gone silent. I can’t say whether or not they’re gone for good, but they’re gone for now, and I’m free to just be happy.

  I don’t know what the future holds. No one does. But with a new life comes a fresh start. I may not have traditional wealth, but I have the love of Wren and Dylan. As far as I’m concerned, that makes me the richest man in Creek Falls.

  EPILOGUE

  Wren

  HIGH-PITCHED SCREECHING WAILS through the baby monitor at my bedside. I throw my arm over my face with a groan.

  “I got it. Go back to sleep,” Jesse grumbles, forcing himself out of bed. White light filters through my closed lids. I hear Jesse stagger through the room, his footsteps padding down the hall, then back again before the door to Dylan’s bedroom opens with a creak.

  The baby was up every hour on the hour. I fed him, I changed him, I rocked him in his chair, but he just wasn’t content. Our first weeks at home were ignorant bliss. He slept most of the day and all night long. Jesse and I started to wonder if there was something wrong. Then—BAM—at the stroke of six weeks, my silent angel became a screaming devil.

  The low baritone of Jesse’s voice crackles through the speaker. “What’s the matter, little man?” Shuffling follows the desperate whine of our son as Jesse, no doubt, lifts him from the crib with the bottle I’d left in the fridge. “Hungry again?”

  The rocking chair creaks under his weight. The gift from my parents proved to be the best one yet. A wooden glider with thick, plushy pads. I had no idea at the time just how long my ass would sit in that thing.

  Stubborn to the core, my dad barely acknowledged my entire pregnancy even after I admitted the baby was Asher’s. But when Jesse called from the hospital, he was there. He came in the room, shook Jesse’s hand, and held his grandson against his chest with remorse glittering his gaze. Things aren’t back to normal yet, but they’re getting there.

  “Shh, shh,” Jesse murmurs. “We gotta talk about all this cryin’, bro. It ain’t cool.” Jesse’s baby voice pulls a smile across my lips. A gentle timbre reserved only for Dylan.

  Rolling over, I adjust the volume so I can hear him better.

  “We’ve been friends for, what, ten weeks now? You’re cute, but I’ll be honest. The routine’s gettin’ old, bud. Shape up or ship out.” A smooth snicker follows his statement. “Don’t look at me like that. Okay, okay, you win, you can stay.”

  No more words are said, only a quiet whoosh of the chair until Jesse’s discreet voice starts again.

  “You know, I had a stepdad once, but he wasn’t very nice to me. He made me feel as though I wasn’t wanted. I never want you to feel that way, okay? I loved you before I even met you. I wanted to be your daddy . . . but things happen. Just because I’m not your blood doesn’t mean we’re not family, okay? Remember that.”

  Dylan makes a few noises in response, and the whooshing continues. Lying on my side, I watch the monitor as if there’s something more to see than carved lines etched into the smooth plastic case.

  “You’re a lucky boy. You get two dads and the best mom ever. Yeah, that woman who dispenses the milk? I know, I know, it sounds crazy, but I swear she’s more than just food. She’s the love of my life.”

  Jesse’s early morning confession travels to my heart in an instant. I find myself glued to his words; the soft baritone of truth whispered in our baby’s ear. It isn’t meant for me, but I listen anyway, falling in love with him all over again.

  “There is something I’ve been wanting to ask you, though. What do ya think of these monkeys? Yeah, I thought so . . . too many monkeys. That was the start of my mental breakdown. Man, did I lose it. Thank God your mom is a forgiving woman.

  “I thought since I didn’t have any positive male role models growing up that I wouldn’t know how to be one. See my dad . . . well . . . he’s not really worth thinking about anymore. But I wrestled with his demon for way longer than I should’ve. First piece of fatherly advice—don’t waste your energy on people who don’t care. It will only bring you down.

  “Caring too much has always been my biggest problem.”

  The rocking suddenly stops, the chair creaking as he tries to stand. A few moments later, he joins me again. The bed dips as he curls in behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist.

  “He’s asleep.”

  Warm breath fans my ear. I snuggle closer, wanting to feel all of him pressed against my body. Skin to skin, nothing between us.

  “You’re making me hard,” he mumbles.

  I flip to my opposite side, my hand reaching up to touch the tawny growth dappling his jaw. “That’s the idea.”

  “Really?” His gaze finds mine in close contact.

  I suck my top lip between my teeth and let it out slowly. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Seven months to the day, actually.” He runs his fingertips down my neck and across my bare shoulder, eliciting a field of goose bumps popping in their wake.

  A breathy whimper flits off my tongue. “It’s time,” I mutter.

  Pushing the strap of my tank aside, he peppers my skin with open-mouthed kisses. Desire pools in my gut. He pushes me back with the force of his body, hovering over me as he nips my collarbone and continues lower, but he pauses suddenly.

  “I don’t . . . can I still touch you?” He traces under my areola with the pad of this thumb.

  Tingles prance across my skin. “Yes.”

  “Do you know how long I’ve missed this body?”

  The question heats my cheeks. The body he remembers is not the one lying beneath him. It’s soft and round and scarred, the evidence of recent events carved into my abdomen forever.

  “Hey,” he asks, softly sweeping the crimson blush. “Are you nervous?”

  I lower my gaze, the truth slipping off my lips like a secret. “I’m afraid you won’t find me sexy anymore.”

  But his mouth curves in a loving grin. The mattress sinks as he pushes his palm against it. “Are you kidding me?” He rests his free hand on my cheek. “You’re the sexiest woman I know. As beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside.”

  “You promise?”

  “I do.”
He nods, sealing his vow with a tender kiss that curls my toes. There are many facets to Jesse Dylan. He knows how to be hard and when to be soft and uses them both simultaneously to drag me under his wicked spell.

  He breaks our union. My body lifts off the bed to follow him before plopping back down. Sitting on his haunches, he slowly drags my panties down and drops them on the floor. Fingering the hem of my tank top next. “Can I take this off?”

  Nodding, I lift my arms and wriggle free of the offending garment as he helps me out of it. His hungry gaze roams my flesh. He leans in closer, running his hand down my side to clench my hip. “Beautiful,” he groans again before taking my nipple in his mouth.

  My back arches. I throw my head back on the pillow, a grunt leaving my throat. He suckles softly, pulling the peak between his teeth as he gently strokes the other. My hips buck against his knee, my frustrated impatience starved for his cock, but it’s been seven months, and he’s savoring the moment.

  So am I.

  “I love how you taste,” he grumbles, uncoupling his latch with a pop. “Sweet.” His tongue lashes between my breasts and licks a slippery trail down my abdomen. “Sugary.” I tangle my hands in the sheets to keep them from springing over the ugly red scar puckering my flesh. He glides over it, his lips grazing it delicately on his way to my mound. “Delicious,” he groans, as he reaches the apex of my thighs.

  At the first swipe of his tongue, my back vaults off the mattress. He slides his hand up over my heart, diving between my legs in a fevered rush, licking, tasting, nipping, and sucking to bring me to orgasm almost immediately. I want to cry out, but I hold it back. Instead, a muted moan lodges in my throat. My body quakes, but Jesse doesn’t relent.

  “That’s one.”

  The vibration of his baritone rumbling against me is almost too much. The assault on my clit continues without mercy. Still reeling and dizzy from my first release, I stifle a moan when his skillful lips close around my nub a second time.

  Aftershocks wrack my body as I lie helplessly on the bed. His form hovers above me. “That’s two, Bird.” He smirks, tapping my nose.

  “Two?” I ask, my brain still foggy, and my body still alight with pleasure.

  “I’ve got seven months of orgasms to make up for,” he growls, rubbing his fingers across my breasts and down my body. “The way I see it, I’ve got at least”—he trails off, using his fingers to count—“two hundred and eight more to go.”

  “Oh shit.” I giggle, but the laughter hitches in my throat when I feel the crown of his cock nudge my entrance. “Maybe we can settle for just one more?”

  “Maybe even a few.” He smirks as he takes my face in his hands and kisses me once again.

  Jesse

  LATE SUMMER WIND lifts the tips of my hair. It blows across the grill, wafting the smoldering smell of charring burgers across the neighboring yards. I lift a beer to my lips and tip it back. The crisp flavor tickles my throat as I flip the burgers. The meat sizzles and pops. I close the lid and plop onto a patio chair, resting my feet on wooden balusters around the deck.

  Mischief’s headstone sits proudly under the green leaves of a dogwood tree. A small, concrete heart bearing his name and the date. A gift I gave Wren shortly after he passed. It was almost a year ago, but it feels like a lifetime. We came together. We fell apart. Then our love renewed as strong and resilient as the stone itself.

  That’s the thing about love. It bends but doesn’t break.

  Through the screen door, I see Erika saunter toward me. “Dinner almost ready?” she asks, taking the seat next to me. “I’m starving.”

  “Yeah, just a few minutes. Baby’s down?”

  “He’s so sweet, how can you stand it?” she gushes with a sigh. “Anytime you need a babysitter, let me know.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he replies with a snicker. Meanwhile, Wren won’t let that baby out of her sight. Asher hasn’t even taken him yet—not that he’s offered—but he has been here to see him and even changed a diaper or two.

  The sound of footsteps pulls Erika’s attention. We both look up as Wren joins us outside.

  A blush creeps up her skin, a small smile breaking her features. She’s thinking about this morning. Emotions show clearly on her crimson face, but my gaze lands on the notebook tucked under arm as she sits between Erika and me.

  Serenity fills her moss-colored gaze. She rests her hands atop her own face sketched in ink. “I have something to tell you.” She pulls a deep breath in, her chest puffing as it fills her lungs. “But I’m really nervous to show you.”

  My heart skips a beat. My questioning gaze slides to my sister, whose smile is as wide as a yacht. “I’ll give you guys a minute,” she announces, letting herself back inside.

  Wren keeps her hands firmly on the book as if keeping it safe. The way a preacher takes his Bible and holds it sacred. She pulls another sharp breath through her nose and slowly slides it across the tempered glass.

  “Just don’t read it in front of me, okay?”

  I look down at the book I created with care. The cover is a little worse for wear, the corners dented, and the image slightly faded with time. I asked her to fill it with her dreams and stories, but I haven’t seen it since, despite the fact that it looks well loved.

  She brushes past me to the grill and opens the lid, but the delightful sizzle and savory scent can’t take my attention away from the book. With a heavy heart, I run my fingertip down the side and flip open the cover.

  The first things I see are a few careless doodles and random sentences, nothing of intense interest. Confused, I turn the page, and my breath catches in my throat. Loopy letters scrawl across the top in thin black ink: Last First Kiss.

  I lift the book, my heart fluttering as I read through the very first lines.

  I’M SUFFOCATING.

  Right here in the park with the warm breeze lifting the tips of his dirty blond hair and the Canadian geese honking near the lake. This is the spot. Our spot. The lonely edge of the park where the swings lazily sway in the summer wind, and the sun sets between the trees, slashing the sky in marble colors of pink, purple, and blue.

  This is where I’ll take my last breath and blow away into nothingness.

  THE SAME INK fills every page top to bottom. I flip through the pages with fervent wonder until I reach the very last one. My shocked gaze settles on the two little words I knew I’d see.

  The End.

  I turn and look over my shoulder as Wren keeps her back to me. “You finished,” I say in a low, even tone. She ignores my statement and plates the burgers before turning the knobs. The fire blows out with a poof, and she reaches under the grill to shut off the gas valve. “So . . . does it have a happy ending?”

  She sets our dinner down between us and slowly lowers back into her chair. “The happiest one I could think of.”

  “I never doubted you, Wren. Not for one second,” I tell her honestly, rubbing my fingers over the words imprinted on the page.

  She leans forward and rests her hands over mine. “There’s just one thing I need you to do for me.” I lift a questioning brow, waiting for her request. Whatever it is, the answer’s yes. That’s the way it’s always been. “I want you to design the cover.”

  My gaze drops to the book, then lifts back up to meet hers. “It already has a cover.”

  The mischievous grin that rolls across her face pops with electric energy. She leans in just enough to pull a folded envelope from the back pocket of her shorts. Goose bumps travel down my arms when I see the insignia printed across the corner.

  “Raglan Publishing?” I ask, my voice loud with nervous energy.

  She shrugs. “They love our story.” Happy tears soak her eyes. “What better way to market the book than for the hero himself to provide the art?”

  The metal legs of my chair screech across the wooden boards. I lean forward and pull her onto my lap “Are you saying I’m your hero?”

  She locks her arms around my neck, pressing
our lips together. “You’re more than my hero, Jess. You’re my first love, and my last first kiss.”

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  PLAYLIST

  Click to Listen

  Mr. Big – “To Be With You”

  Thomas Rhett – “Marry Me”

  U2 – “With Or Without You”

  Hinder – “Lips of an Angel”

  Nickelback – “Far Away”

  Violent Femmes – “Add It Up”

  O-Town – “All Or Nothing”

  U2 – “All I Want is You”

  Brett Young – “Mercy”

  Dave Matthews Band – “Crash Into Me”

  Joran Davis – “Singles You Up”

  Pearl Jam – “Black”

  Eli Young Band – “Love Ain’t”

  LANCO – “Greatest Love Story”

  Dido – “White Flag”

  Luke Combs – “One Number Away”

  Paula Abdul – “Cold Hearted”

  REO Speedwagon – “Can’t Fight This Feeling”

  Fiona Apple – “Criminal”

  Ed Sheeran – “Perfect”

  Mazzy Star – “Fade Into You”

  Janet Jackson – “Again”

  Pearl Jam – “State of Love and Trust”

  Screaming Trees – “Nearly Lost You”

  U2 – “Who’s Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses”

  Garbage – “Stupid Girl”

  Dan & Shay – “How Not To”

  Everclear – “I Will Buy You a New Life”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Before I get to my list of professional thank yous, I need to give a special shout out to the man himself.

  The real Jesse.

  He’d kill me if he knew I wrote this. Blonde waves, bedroom eyes, crinkled smile … I captured his essence quite perfectly, if I don’t say so myself, but he’s so much more than a pretty face. He’s a sweetheart, a pure soul, a total goofball, and the most talented artist I’ve ever known.