How to Kiss a Bad Boy

by Ashby, Amanda

  “It’s fine.” He shrugged and without another word he gathered up the stray plates and silverware while Frankie fled to the huge oak tree just behind Rosie and lowered herself to the ground. Tears rolled down her face, and the bark dug into her back, but she hardly noticed. She was too busy trying to figure out how soon she could go home and hide from the world.

  xxxx

  “Want to talk?” Jackson said forty minutes later as he joined her under the tree and handed over a plate. Perfectly centered in the middle was one of Lo’s orange chocolate chip cupcakes, though where the tiny violet pansy should have been was a smiling face made from silver sprinkles. “I figured misery loves cupcakes.”

  “You’re seriously hitting me with a cliché now?” She took the plate, not quite sure that sugar and butter could possibly make her feel better. The only thing that would was a time machine that she could use to erase the whole humiliating scene. “I’m never going to live it down.”

  “Sure you will. This is Cricket Bay. The next weird thing is probably already happening.” He picked up a stick and used it to draw something in the dirt. Then, as if realizing what he was doing, he threw it away and wiped out the picture with the bottom of his boot. “You liked that idiot?”

  Yes. No. Maybe.

  Certainly more than he’d liked her.

  “Not anymore. I feel stupid.” She put down the cupcake and tugged out the carefully constructed list from her pocket.

  She gripped it in both hands and tugged. It tore down the center, and she doubled it and ripped it again before balling it up and throwing it toward the nearby trashcan. She missed, and it landed several feet from her. Before the wind could collect it, Jackson got to his feet and retrieved it. He studied the small scraps before balling them back up and dunking them into the trash can. Of course it went in.

  “I know you like to plan things, but I didn’t realize you’d planned when you’d kiss someone,” he said, rejoining her on the ground. Ah. And now her humiliation was complete.

  At least he didn’t know it was her first kiss she’d been planning.

  That she was a kissing novice.

  That Aaron was her way of controlling her first experience and making sure it was good. Backfire much?

  If Jackson knew any of it, he’d just laugh. He’d probably kissed loads of girls. After all, he was gorgeous. With his high cheekbones and fine layer of stubble that always covered his jaw…well…it was easy to see why someone would want to kiss him.

  Seemed like everyone had someone to kiss. Except me. At least she had cake. She picked up the cupcake and pulled it apart with her fingers.

  “Want some?” She offered him half. It was the least she could do since he’d saved her from making an even bigger fool of herself. A flash of a smile hovered around his mouth, but he held up his hand to refuse it.

  “Does this mean you won’t dock my wages for it?” he said, getting to his feet.

  “Wages? You mean I’m meant to be paying you?”

  He gave her a brief smile. “I’d better go finish packing everything away. But trust me, Frankie. You’re better off without that guy.”

  “I know,” she said as she leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes. The worst thing was, she didn’t know who she’d misjudged more. Aaron or Jackson. Either way, her summer plans were over. No chance of kissing a boy now.

  6

  “I still can’t believe it happened,” Via said from the other end of the phone the following day. Frankie dragged the last of the trash bags to the dumpster. Late afternoon sun beat down on her arms and sweat beaded her brow. All she wanted was to sit down with a cool drink and take her sneakers off. It had been a long day. Not helped by her lack of sleep last night.

  Still, in five minutes they could officially close.

  “You tried to warn me when I spouted all that ‘go big or go home’ stuff. I’ve been punished by my own cliché.”

  “I know I’m risk averse, but I think what you did was brave,” Via said. “You took a chance. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing?”

  “You mean apart from the fact it backfired in a spectacular fashion? If it was a crime scene, they’d be calling in the blood spatter expert.”

  She reached the dumpster and hauled the bag up. Her nose wrinkled at the stench as she used her other hand to close the lid. Frankie sighed and walked back toward Rosie.

  Technicians were busy setting up musical equipment on the large stage, while the grassy area was filled with young kids running around like missiles, all wearing pink top hats. It was obviously some craze she knew nothing about.

  “But at least you tried,” Via said. “If it’s any consolation, the word on social media is that Melissa threw herself at him. I doubt you could have stopped her.”

  “Thanks,” Frankie said. She’d purposely stayed away from her feeds because there was only so much humiliation she could handle at any one time. And right now, between Aaron’s kissfest and then letting Jackson see her having a meltdown, her quota for the year was all used up. Not that it was any consolation. It wasn’t fair to blame Melissa. As far as Frankie knew, it took two to tango. Not to mention two to grope each other in the corner at a party.

  “You’re welcome,” Via said before there was a scraping noise in the background. Her friend lowered her voice to a whisper. “I have to go.” It was followed by a panting sound, almost like Via was running.

  “Go where?” Frankie frowned. Via hated running. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  But there was no answer. The call had been cut off.

  Something weird was going on with Via. Next time they spoke she’d have to dig deeper. She pocketed her phone as she reached Rosie.

  Afternoon sun glinted on the soft pink paintwork in a way that always made her smile. Yes, summer was turning into a train wreck, but she still got to work in the cutest food truck in the world. It was something.

  Jackson had already packed away the awning and tables, but for some reason the serving window was open. She frowned.

  She was sure she’d shut it before she left for the dumpster.

  A little blonde head appeared over the counter. Chelsea. She must’ve been standing on a milk crate because she almost reached her big brother’s shoulder. She was wearing one of the floral aprons. It almost swamped her.

  “Frankie. Look at me.” Chelsea waved. “I’m working.”

  “You sure are.” She returned the wave as Jackson lowered his head and whispered into the little girl’s ear. Chelsea giggled and then fixed Frankie with a toothy smile.

  “Welcome to Tea for Two. How can I help?” Chelsea carefully recited, and then burst out laughing.

  “Right, that’s enough.” Jackson scooped the little girl down from her platform, and she disappeared from view. A moment later Chelsea, clutching her green-haired doll, darted out and hugged Frankie’s knees.

  “Did I do a good job?”

  “You sure did.” Frankie patted her blonde curls before Chelsea bounced over to a purple blanket that was spread out on the grass. There was a coloring book and a fluffy pencil case, and next to it was a pink top hat.

  Jackson emerged, wearing a sheepish expression.

  “I’m real sorry about this. My mom promised to take Chelsea to the Giggle Gang but got called in early for work. Her boss has been breathing down her neck. She couldn’t say no. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not. We knock off in five minutes anyway,” Frankie said as she glanced over to where Chelsea was chatting away to her doll, looking all kinds of adorable. “And now I know why there are six million kids running around wearing pink top hats on the other side of the square. I take it it’s part of the act?”

  “Ah, to live in a world where you don’t know anything about the Giggle Gang.” Jackson let out a wistful sigh and shook his head. “Lucky you.”

  “Is it bad?”

  “I’m not their target audience, so yes. To me they’re bad. But Chelsea loves them. Anyway, I’ll finish
packing away.”

  “Sure,” she said as he headed over to the shed, pushing the hand truck of tables. A couple of empty cans had blown across the grass and were caught under Rosie’s wheel. She stooped to gather them up. There was also a napkin wedged in there, so she retrieved it. She was about to ball it up when she realized someone had drawn on it. She flattened it out and let out a little gasp.

  It was a pencil sketch of Rosie, and even in black and white it was amazing.

  Who’d done it?

  She tried to recall if any of their many customers had been drawing but came up blank. She studied it again. The artist had even caught her standing at the serving counter, carefully plating up a piece of cake.

  Frankie stepped inside and smoothed the napkin down as best she could before taping it on the back wall along with Chelsea’s growing collection of drawings.

  Then she returned to her cleaning. Once she was done, she picked up a cupcake. The pink frosting was smooth, and she reached for her pink sprinkles to create a tiny top hat. Then she slipped it into a take-home box and wrote Chelsea’s Wages on the top of it.

  “You ready to lock up?” Jackson reappeared a couple of minutes later, packing the blanket and pencil case into his satchel. Chelsea was next to him, the pink hat balanced on top of her head. She was fizzing with excitement, obviously eager to get closer to the Giggle Gang.

  “Not quite. I still have to cash up and clean out the fridge,” she said as Chelsea tugged his arm. “But you go. I’ll be fine.”

  He frowned. “I can wait. There’s no hurry.”

  “Yes, there is,” Chelsea corrected as she glanced longingly at the show at the other end of the square.

  “I think you stand corrected. I don’t mind. And take this. It’s for our best worker.” She passed him the box, and his mouth twisted into a smile that made his navy eyes lighten. He had great eyes.

  “Thanks,” he said before turning to Chelsea. “Okay, kid. Let’s go.”

  “Wait. Where’s your hat?” His little sister’s lower lip went out in a pout.

  Hat? Frankie blinked as Jackson gave her the box to hold and dug a slightly squashed pink top hat out of his satchel. He gave it a shake to get it back into shape.

  “Seriously, don’t say it. Not a word,” he warned as he thrust it on his head.

  “Say what?” Chelsea demanded.

  “Say how great you both look,” Frankie said, doing her best to bite back a smile. “I hope you have fun.”

  “We will,” Chelsea said as she danced off, dragging Jackson along after her.

  “Ouch, be gentle,” he teased the little girl before scooping her up in his arms and jogging away. Chelsea let out a squeal, and Frankie stood in the doorway as they joined the crowd surging around the stage.

  “What are you smiling about?” Lo appeared.

  A guy who’s happy to wear a pink hat to make his kid sister happy.

  A guy who drives a girl out to Hammer Point on his day off despite the fact it was the same girl who tried to get him fired.

  A guy who was nothing like she’d expected him to be.

  “Nothing.” Frankie shook her head and leaned in to kiss her aunt. “Just taking a break before I cash up. It’s been a busy day, so it’s your turn to cover dinner.”

  “Well, since we’re both going over to Johnny’s house for his world-famous risotto, I can live with that. But while we have a spare moment, I wanted to talk to you about Jackson.”

  “What about him?” she said, her face heating. Had Lo been reading her thoughts?

  “Nothing,” Lo said in surprise. “Just wanted to check if we should invite him to the engagement party. Unless there’s something else you wanted to talk about?” Her aunt’s curious gaze swept over Frankie.

  Oh. The engagement party. She knew that.

  “Well, yes. Definitely. I mean, it’s a party. The more the merrier, right?”

  “Good, that’s settled.” Lo’s lips twitched with amusement. “Now let’s get this place closed, then we can relax.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Frankie got to work, trying not to think about Jackson. If her disaster with Aaron had taught her anything, it was that when it came to boys, she was clueless.

  More to the point, Jackson had told her he didn’t date. He had too many other things going on in his life. Important things. Real problems. He didn’t have time for a girl who made plans to kiss one boy and who ended up drooling over someone else entirely.

  So, why did I tell Lo to invite him to the party?

  She stifled the thought. Probably best not to answer that.

  xxxx

  Jackson climbed into the car and breathed in the heady scent of six dozen strawberry and chocolate cupcakes. If Chelsea was there she’d probably be bouncing with excitement. But he was too busy trying not to look at the envelope that had been tucked in with the deliveries. An invitation to the engagement party.

  Parties weren’t really his thing.

  And yet, if he went, Frankie would be there.

  He’d been thinking about her way too much lately. It was becoming a problem. Especially the part where all he wanted to do was kiss her.

  And all she wants to do is kiss Aaron Tremain.

  Annoyance filled him. What a jerk.

  Not to mention an idiot. Did Aaron have any idea Frankie had been planning how to kiss him? Did he even care?

  He reached for the invitation and thrust it into his jacket pocket. He’d make the decision later.

  He merged into the traffic and headed toward Main Beach to make the last of Lo’s deliveries before he went back to Rosie. In the last week, Kenneth had missed three days and Jackson had been helping out.

  It meant getting up a bit earlier, but it wasn’t like he had anything better to do.

  The sun was already out and the golden sand was dotted with sun worshippers, while surfers were pooled together all competing for the next wave. The water was a mossy green with white caps rolling and waving in swirling swells. Unlike half of the population of Cricket Bay, he’d never fallen for the lure of the water, apart from sketching the ever-changing tidal marks left on the beach.

  Sketching that he would no longer be doing on his lunch break. He still didn’t know how the drawing of Rosie had ended up under the wheel, but now he had to look at it every day on the wall. He longed to take it down but couldn’t really do that without admitting it was one of his.

  He swung his car into the parking lot at the back of a hip coffee shop called Liquid and loaded up half of the boxes.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” A woman looked up from the grill she was working. She nodded to a spare countertop, and he put them down, pausing to double-check they’d survived the journey.

  “Thanks, Stella,” he said as he headed for the door. “I’ve got two more boxes for you.”

  “Tell Lo she’s a lifesaver. These little delights will be sold out by eleven. I swear that woman’s a goddess,” she said and returned her attention to the grill.

  “I’ll let her know.”

  He walked back to the car. It was already warm, and he shrugged off his jacket and dropped it into the backseat, next to the collection of Chelsea’s teddy bears. He leaned in to pick up the second lot of boxes when someone giggled.

  “You were amazing,” a girl cooed.

  “Yeah. I’ve still got it,” a guy said in a smug voice, and Jackson stiffened.

  Aaron Tremain.

  He swung around to where the douchebag was standing next to a late model Jeep. There was a surfboard strapped onto the top, and he was shirtless with a towel wrapped around his waist. His blond hair was slicked back to his scalp from an early morning surf. Next to him was Melissa Fields, wearing a micro bikini covered up by some kind of sheer dress.

  Annoyance flooded his veins. While Frankie had been slumped against a giant tree, the idiot in front of him had been making out with another girl like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “What are you looking at?” Aaron leaned again
st the Jeep, his mouth set in a sneer.

  “Not much.” Jackson’s voice was cool. Aaron’s face went from brown to red.

  “Look who’s talking. You want some advice, buddy?”

  “I really don’t,” Jackson assured him.

  “Isn’t that the guy who works with that girl who wouldn’t stop texting you?” Melissa blinked as she ran a hand along Aaron’s bare chest.

  “That’s him.” Aaron snickered. “He’s a deadbeat and she’s a—”

  “Think carefully about your next words,” Jackson growled, his knuckles tightening. He wasn’t a fighter. Not even close. But if this jerk thought he could talk about Frankie like that, he had another think coming. She was worth a hundred of him. A thousand.

  Aaron’s jaw tightened as his gaze narrowed in on Jackson. Then he held up his hands and gave a dismissive shrug. Jackson might not be a fighter, but Aaron obviously didn’t know that.

  “Whatever, man.”

  “Seriously?” Melissa’s face tightened. “Are you going to let him talk to you like that?”

  “He’s not worth it.” Aaron slung an arm around her shoulder. “Just some loser who’s heading for the can. If you ask me, they’re a match made in weirdo heaven.”

  Melissa giggled, and Jackson sucked in a sharp breath, trying to get himself under control as Aaron climbed into the Jeep. Then it roared down the road and out of sight.

  His fists unclenched, and he was finally able to pick up the second part of the delivery and drop it off before driving back to the square, annoyance still pounding against his skull.

  Frankie had already collected the tables and chairs from the shed and was just finishing with the awning. She was full of surprises.

  She lowered the hammer to the ground as her eyes swept over him. “What’s wrong with you? Did someone slip decaf into your coffee?”

  Hell. Was he that readable?

  “I’m fine.”

  “Sure you are,” she said. Today’s dress was cherry red with a low-cut neck and tight at the waist. She looked good. Too good for someone like Aaron to be talking smack about in a parking lot. “What happened?”