The Last First Kiss

by Julie Cannon

  The deckhands spent the forty-five minutes it took to get them to the fishing spot setting up the gear and giving instructions to the first timers. Matt paid close attention, not wanting to mess up in front of Kelly.

  The boat slowed, and the deckhands dropped an anchor in the front and one in the rear of the boat. Matt stood.

  “Hang on a minute,” Kelly said, her hand on Matt’s arm. “They need to get settled first, and we don’t want to get in their way.”

  When the captain finally gave the all clear, Kelly headed to the bait station and returned a minute later with a small bucket.

  “What is that?” Matt asked. It didn’t look like anything she’d ever seen. It had an elongated body, very large eyes, and what looked like a bunch of tentacles coming out of its mouth. It was downright ugly.

  “Squid,” Kelly said, reaching into the bucket and handing one to her. Matt must have hesitated a second too long, because Kelly said, “I’ll bait your hook for you.”

  “No. that’s okay,” Matt replied. “I can bait my own hook. I just don’t know what to do with it. I’ll watch you first, then do it.”

  “With squid, you don’t need to change your bait unless the fish take it. But hopefully when they do, they’ll take the hook with it, and you’ve got one.” Kelly’s eyes lit up, a sure sign she was eager to get going on the day’s adventure.

  Kelly won the jackpot for the first fish of the day, which weighed in at a little over seventeen pounds. As she was taking it off the hook, the captain told Kelly what it was, but Matt couldn’t hear because she was in the process of winning the upchuck jackpot. Several humiliating minutes later, the contents of Matt’s stomach were fish bait. One of the deckhands teased her that since it was her “bait,” she’d catch the biggest fish of the day. He was right, and by two thirty they were on their way back to shore.

  “I’m exhausted,” Matt said as they waited for their taxi. Her arms were still quivering from the exertion of reeling in her twenty-eight-pound snapper.

  “I know,” Kelly said. “It wears you out.”

  “It was a lot of fun.” Since they were on vacation, they’d released any fish they caught so they didn’t need to worry about what to do with their catch.

  “Even when you barfed your breakfast?” Kelly teased good-naturedly.

  Kelly had kept a close watch on Matt for the remainder of the expedition, and instead of being embarrassed by the entire event, she felt comforted knowing someone was watching out for her.

  “Especially after I barfed my breakfast.” It was true. She had felt much better on an empty stomach.

  Kelly yawned. “I need a nap.”

  “I like that idea,” Matt said, her energy suddenly increasing at the thought of Kelly naked in bed.

  “Oh, no, missy. Don’t get that look in your eyes. I stink like fish, and I have squid guts all over me, plus eight coats of sunscreen.”

  “I don’t know what look you’re talking about,” Matt said, feigning innocence. “I think you’re sexy as hell with that deadliest-fisherwoman’s aura about you.”

  “You think I’m sexy? Like this?” Kelly indicated her clothes.

  Matt faced her and stepped close, their breasts almost touching. Kelly’s eyes darkened with the familiar look of arousal, and Matt knew she would never grow tired of it.

  “I think you’re sexy all the time.” Kelly swallowed hard, her eyes darkening even more. Matt leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Especially when you smell like squid and fish guts.”

  Kelly burst out laughing and pushed Matt away with both hands on her chest. “You are such a bullshitter.”

  Kelly was still chuckling as the taxi pulled up. They slid into the backseat, and Matt was quiet, lost in her thoughts. She wasn’t bullshitting. She saw Kelly as beautiful, exciting, sensual, and sexy as hell every minute she was with her, and that thought scared the hell out of her.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Several days later, after lazy morning sex and a late breakfast, Kelly called for a taxi from the front desk. They rode to a small dock, where she had reserved a catamaran for the afternoon. When she paid for this trip the plan had been that she and Suzanne would sail around the island, but spending the afternoon with Matt was going to be so much better. After a few brief instructions, the deckhand pushed them away from the dock.

  The sun was warm, and they were the only ones on the water. They sailed for about an hour, and as Matt dropped the anchor, Kelly slipped off her top. She liked the way Matt’s eyes burned over her from behind her sunglasses.

  “So, about that thing Robbie did in Chapter Eight in Tropical Nights,” Kelly stated, stepping out of her bikini bottoms and tossing them to the side. She heated at the anticipation as Matt scrambled out of her clothes and walked toward her.

  Several hours later they sailed back into the dock, tired, thirsty, and a little sunburned in places that normally didn’t see much of the sun, if any. They were thirty minutes late, and Kelly tipped the teenager generously.

  They went into town and stopped at the Skull Rock Cantina. It was blistering hot in the late afternoon, and the restaurant had no air-conditioning but plenty of large oscillating fans. The place had a lot of character, a large skeleton dressed in surf shorts and a brightly colored flowered shirt greeting them by the front entrance. A large sombrero was on his head, a plastic margarita glass in his bony hands.

  “Isn’t that style of skeleton called something?” Kelly asked.

  “It’s a calaca, the Spanish name for skeleton. It’s traditionally decorated for the Mexican Day of the Dead festival.”

  Kelly’s fingers flew over her keyboard on her phone. “According to Wikipedia, calacas are generally depicted as joyous rather than mournful figures,” she said, shading her screen from the glare of the sun. “They are often shown wearing festive clothing, dancing, and playing musical instruments to indicate a happy afterlife. This draws on the Mexican belief that no dead soul likes to be thought of sadly, and that death should be a joyous occasion.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Matt said, as a brief wave of sadness drifted over her face, then was gone. “They are really colorful and fun, if a skeleton can even be called fun.”

  The theme carried through the restaurant, with photos and knick-knacks of calacas on the tables. The walls were painted bright yellows and green, with colorful pillows in the booths. The restaurant was charming, and Kelly made a note to stop at the small gift shop by the front door. Her accountant would love something from here. They found an empty booth and collapsed in it.

  “I am exhausted,” Matt said, raising her beer to her lips.

  Kelly’s heart skipped. Jeez, even Matt simply drinking beer made Kelly want to strip her and kiss every hot, sweaty inch again. She had it bad and needed to rein it in.

  “But in a good way.” Matt winked at her, and Kelly’s clit throbbed. “A very good way.”

  “Well, a few more days, and you can go home and get some rest.”

  A flash of something passed over Matt’s suddenly serious face, then just as quickly disappeared.

  “Isn’t that always the way it is with vacations?” Kelly said quickly, noticing the subtle shift in Matt. “You work your ass off to get ready, then work even harder to catch up after you get back.” She saw Matt relax a little and doubted she was even aware of her reaction.

  “I’ve got a pretty good crew, and the work doesn’t stop when I’m gone, so that’s not the problem. It’s the paperwork that’s probably stacked a foot high that I’ll have to plow through.” Kelly sensed that Matt didn’t want to talk about anything serious. And what would they even talk about that was serious? The biggest thing on her mind was what time her flight left in a few days.

  “I saw a tattoo parlor upstairs when we came in. I’d like to stop by and see what they have.”

  While exploring Matt’s body in the boat, Kelly had asked about each of her tattoos and where she’d gotten them. Each one had a story behind it, and Kelly lear
ned a little more about Matt with every one. One was a drawing a child had made of two stick figures holding hands, a sun overhead. One depicted a young boy, the other a woman with long hair, and they were holding hands. When she’d asked Matt about it, she’d been evasive as to who, if anyone, it was. That had troubled Kelly, but she pushed it out of her mind. It wasn’t her place to force Matt to tell her, even if she could. Obviously, it meant something to her that she didn’t want to share.

  “Looking for anything special?” Kelly asked when the waiter brought a basket of warm chips and salsa to their table.

  “I don’t know. Maybe something with waves, something related to this trip. I’ll have to see if anything strikes my fancy.”

  “You strike more than my fancy,” Kelly said before she had a chance to stop and think about what her words might mean. This was not good. She held her breath for Matt’s reaction.

  Matt’s left eyebrow slowly rose, and she smiled, the same expression that was a prelude to mischief. She was beginning to read Matt pretty well.

  “You don’t say.” Matt smiled wickedly. “I never would have guessed. Here all this time I thought you tolerated me because you were too polite to tell me to get lost.”

  “I’d never tell you to get lost.” Shit, thought Kelly. Another faux pax. She needed to get her raging hormones under control, and fast, before she declared her undying love for Matt.

  Undying love? What the fuck! Matt was looking at her so intently, a lone bead of sweat slid down her sunburned back. Had she done it now? Had she stepped in something neither one really wanted or could do anything about even if they wanted to? She’d definitely had too much sun. She wanted to take back the last few minutes of her life.

  Matt was studying her, and Kelly had no idea what was going on behind her blue eyes. Over the past several days she’d learned what each different expression meant. There was the twinkle that said she was in a mischievous mood, sadness and darkness that she never shared, peacefulness when they were anywhere near water, anxiety that Kelly had only seen once or twice the first day they met, and desire, which came just before she reached for her. But this was different. It was a cross between contemplation and debate. The longer Matt looked at her, the more uncomfortable Kelly became. An overwhelming feeling that this was a defining moment hovered over her. Finally, Matt spoke.

  “Ditto.”

  After three beers each, two bowls of chips, and sharing a huge order of nachos, they climbed the stairs to the tattoo parlor. Matt had googled the place while they ate and had been impressed with the artist, the sole proprietor of the shop.

  “There’s a lot to consider when getting a tattoo,” Matt had explained after Kelly asked.

  “Like what?”

  “Obviously the talent of the artist. Ink is forever, and if the tattooist doesn’t have a steady hand or a creative eye, you’re stuck with it the rest of your life.”

  “Can’t you get it covered with something else?’

  “Sure, but even that can be problematic if not done right.”

  “That’s too much pressure for me,” Kelly said.

  The bell above the door rang, and they stepped inside, Matt leading the way. The room was small, maybe thirty feet square, with mirrors on one wall, a desk and printer in the corner, and a coffee table in front of several chairs.

  A thin woman in her mid-thirties was bent over the leg of a well-muscled man lying on a table wrapped in some sort of protective covering. She held the tattoo gun in her gloved left hand, her long hair in a messy bun on top of her head. Both arms were covered in intricate designs, and Kelly wondered if she’d done them herself or if there was such a thing as professional courtesy. “I’ll be with you in a minute,” she said, not looking up.

  “No problem. I’ll just look around,” Matt replied, picking up one of the three-ring binders on the table.

  They sat next to each other on a small couch, their arms and legs touching. Kelly’s pulse began to pick up, as it always did when she felt Matt’s skin. She shifted, creating some space between them.

  While Matt thumbed through the book, Kelly looked around as the buzz of the tattoo needle filled the silence. On the walls were the traditional half-naked women, cartoon characters, birds, flowers, animals, and various mythical creatures. The place was spotless and smelled slightly like disinfectant.

  “What are you looking for?” Kelly asked as Matt flipped the pages. Each design was either a sketch or photo of the actual tattoo and protected from dozens of hands and fingers by clear, heavy-duty sheet protectors.

  “I’m getting a feel for her work—the intricacy, the attention to detail, the creative aspect, that sort of thing.”

  Matt was bent over the book, obviously concentrating as her eyes moved over each page. Her fingers traced the image, and Kelly flashed to all the times they’d traced her. A flush of heat passed through her.

  “What can I do for you?” the woman asked, pulling off her plastic gloves and walking toward them. The man was checking on the progress of his new ink. She held out her hand and Matt took it. “I’m Sophia.”

  “Matt, and this is Kelly. Nice to meet you. What can you do with this?” Matt asked, taking a folded piece of paper from her back pocket.

  Kelly studied it upside down while the woman looked at it. It was a drawing of a camping scene, complete with a trailer, trees, and a fire pit.

  “Where were you thinking?” she asked, eyeing Matt’s bare arms and legs with more than professional inquiry.

  Jealousy flared, and Kelly started to see green around the edges. Whoa! Stop that right now, she thought. She had no claims on Matt, even for the next few days. She didn’t hear their conversation; she was trying to get her own thoughts back in the right place. That was a laugh, because ever since Matt had boarded the plane, her thoughts had been out of place.

  “Okay, thanks.” Matt extended her hand. “I don’t leave for a few days. I may be back.”

  The woman took it. “Please do,” she said, holding Matt’s hand far too long. “I’m here till ten every evening.”

  Kelly had to concentrate not to stomp down the stairs. The gall of the woman to come on to Matt like that. Didn’t she have any professional scruples? You don’t hit on customers. Or maybe she did. Mose who came to her shop were probably just like Matt, on vacation and here one day and gone the next. What a great gig for hooking up.

  “You okay?” Matt asked when their feet were back on solid ground.

  “Sure,” Kelly lied. She knew she wasn’t convincing when Matt took her arm and stopped her. Kelly forced herself to calm down and look at Matt. The last thing she needed was for Matt to see rage in her eyes. She decided to take the offense.

  “Did you not want to get it?” she asked, referencing the drawing Matt had shown the woman.

  “No. She was crazy expensive, but that’s not what I meant.”

  “Do you want to try somewhere else? I’m sure there are other places on the island.” Kelly knew she was probably blabbering, but the intense look she was getting from Matt was making her nervous.

  Matt pinned her with her look, hard, her eyebrows furrowed for a few more moments, then said, “No. I’m good.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  What was all that about? Matt wondered as they walked through the parking lot and out onto the sidewalk. Was Kelly jealous? Matt wasn’t that much out of practice not to recognize that Sophia was definitely interested in more than business. She’d held her hand just a bit longer than was professionally appropriate, and her eyes had wandered lazily over her body in more than a professional way. She, however, was not interested. Kelly was all Matt wanted, and no other woman moved her at all. Kelly had her complete attention. Didn’t she know that?

  Kelly was distant as they strolled through the shops, Kelly picking up a trinket or two for her employees. Conversation was stilted and forced, and Kelly was obviously doing her best to hide it.

  “I’m ready to head back whenever you are,” Kelly said after p
ocketing her change from the friendly clerk behind the counter.

  “Sure. I’ll get us a taxi.” Matt wasn’t sure what else to say. The mood had certainly shifted, and she wasn’t entirely sure why.

  They rode the five minutes back to the hotel in silence, the tension between them thick. It had been a long time since Matt had had to figure out what a woman was thinking, and she was definitely rusty.

  “Will I see you later?” They hadn’t made any plans for the evening, Matt assuming they’d grab a bite at the restaurant.

  “If you want to. I don’t want to monopolize your time.”

  Kelly’s answer took Matt aback. If I want to? Monopolize my time? What the hell? “Of course, I want to. That is, if you do.” The conversation was the oddest they’d ever had. What was next? I like you. Do you like me?

  “Sure. How about we meet in the dining room in an hour. I need to freshen up a bit.”

  “Okay,” Matt said. “I’ll see you then, I guess.”

  She watched Kelly disappear around the corner, and Matt shook her head as she walked toward her room. She took a detour and headed to the water, needing a few minutes of the rambling waves to soothe her head.

  The beach was far less crowded than earlier, and she took off her shoes and tossed them by an empty chair. She walked along the shoreline, not bothering to dodge the tide as it spilled over her feet and up to her ankles.

  Her thoughts were running in all directions, all centered on Kelly. The way she felt the instant she saw her on the plane. Their easy conversation on this very beach. Their meals together, laughing and sharing stories of their childhood and friends. The way her body hummed every time Kelly looked at her. The way it came alive when she touched her hand, held her face, kissed her lips. It had been an instant reaction, and that was always dangerous. The flame was incendiary yet could be dangerously explosive at the same time. One minute you could be devoured by the hunger and chewed up and spit out the next. Was that what was happening? She didn’t know anything about Kelly, and admittedly they were in paradise, where the real world didn’t exist. Had it intruded into their idyllic dream in the form of ugly jealousy?