One More Kiss

by Samantha Chase

And that was her pattern for the next six boxes. Every pot, every pan, every lid had its place. And it was glorious.

  Another hour had passed. Where the heck were the guys? After quickly and neatly stacking all of the collapsed boxes by the front door, Vivienne went in search of them. In her office, everything seemed to be completed. All that was needed was her furniture. The same was true for the equipment in the living area. How had she not even heard Aaron in there? The main floor was one open room; only her office was separate. Walking up the stairs, she found a stack of collapsed boxes and still no sign of Matt or her brother. What in the world?

  Unable to suppress her curiosity, she opted to check out the linen closet before continuing to search for the guys. Pulling open the door, she stopped and stared with wonder.

  Towels were folded neatly and color-coordinated—just as neatly as she’d packed them.

  The bedsheets were folded perfectly and separated by set—just as she’d placed them in the box.

  Spare pillows were on the top shelf beside her two spare blankets. The pillows were fluffed and the blankets stacked with the same precision.

  On the bottom shelf were three bins with cleaning supplies, and they were all lined up by size, their labels facing forward. On the floor were her humidifier and air purifier—both still in their boxes with pictures facing forward, so anyone searching for them could see what they were.

  She was impressed.

  Seriously impressed.

  Maybe Matt wasn’t quite as useless as she had pegged him to be. True, this hadn’t been a difficult task, but she’d imagined him sort of tossing things haphazardly on the shelves and calling it a day.

  “Aaron?” she called out. “Matt?” No answer. Vivienne walked into her bedroom and bathroom and saw no sign of them. With no other choice, she went back down the stairs and then stepped out of the house and noticed the two men walking toward her. “Where were you?”

  Aaron chuckled and then looked at Matt. “I told you she didn’t even notice us leaving.”

  Vivienne looked at them both curiously. “When did you leave?”

  “About an hour and a half ago,” Matt said. “You were so engrossed in talking to yourself about the wonders of cookware that you didn’t hear us calling out that we were going to order dinner and would be back soon.”

  “Soon? It took you an hour and a half to get dinner?” she asked rather than admit she hadn’t heard a word either of them had said earlier.

  Aaron shrugged and then motioned to the boxes in his hands. “Pizza. I would have been back sooner, but a bunch of football players from the high school came in and they were running behind.”

  She looked at Matt. “Did you go with him?”

  He shook his head. “Uh…no. I hung out and waited for Aaron to get back.” He looked uncomfortable admitting that. He paused. “So, you’re hungry, right?”

  As if on cue, her stomach rumbled. Vivienne blushed. “Does that answer your question?”

  Both men chuckled.

  “You want to eat at your place or mine?” Aaron asked.

  “Why don’t we eat outside again, on your porch? I still don’t have any furniture.”

  With nods, they all turned and walked back over to Aaron’s. Matt went into the house to retrieve drinks and napkins.

  Once he was out of earshot, Aaron asked, “So? Did the closet and the electronics meet with your approval?” He was teasing her and had a grin on his face as he set up the pizza boxes.

  “Well…I haven’t tested any of the computers or televisions yet, so I can’t really say.”

  Aaron laughed. “That’s my girl. No need to overdo the praise.” He shook his head. “And the closet? Was it all done to your satisfaction?”

  Vivienne looked beyond Aaron and into the house to make sure Matt wasn’t nearby. She lowered her voice. “I was impressed. I figured he’d dump stuff and run. But everything looked perfect.” When Aaron started to comment, she immediately put her hand over his mouth. “But if you tell him I said that, I will deny it!”

  When she lowered her hand, they both laughed. “What’s wrong with letting him know he got it right?”

  “I don’t think your friend needs to have his ego stroked. It might be good for him to get used to doing things without praise.” It wasn’t meant to be snarky, but she had a feeling that was exactly how it came off.

  “Or,” Aaron quickly said, “it might be nice to tell him how happy and thankful you are because he’s been getting kicked around a lot these last few weeks.”

  Well, damn. She hadn’t thought of that, and she immediately felt bad. “You’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that myself. I’m normally a pretty compassionate person.”

  “Pretty compassionate? Viv, you are the queen of compassion. That’s why I can’t understand why you’re so antagonistic toward Matt. He’s a good guy, and we’ve been friends for what seems like forever. He’s not a stranger, and he’s always been nice to you. So what gives?”

  Hell, there was no way she could tell her brother her attitude was a defense mechanism because she was embarrassed over something that happened years ago and was a nonevent, if she were being honest. So she’d kissed Matt—and so he didn’t remember.

  Okay, that still burned, but she was working on it.

  “I…I don’t know,” she said evasively. It was rare that she kept any secrets from her brother. With parents who were essentially absent, each was all the other had. But this was just something she felt she needed to keep to herself. Aaron was a good man—a good friend and a good brother—and the last thing she wanted to do was put him in the middle of an awkward situation. “I guess I’m just a little out of sorts and—”

  Just then, Matt stepped back outside, his arms full of a variety of drinks. He looked at the two of them as if he suspected he was interrupting something. “Um…sorry.”

  “For what?” Aaron asked, his tone light again. “It looks like you grabbed one of everything in the refrigerator!”

  Matt smiled and stepped closer, putting the bottles on the table. “Well, I wasn’t sure who would want a beer or who would want soda, and then I saw the bottled water…” He shook his head. “I figured it would be safe if I just brought out a few of everything and let you all decide what you want.”

  “Thanks, man,” Aaron said and then motioned for them all to sit down.

  For the next few minutes, they were all too busy eating to talk, and Vivienne took the time to chastise herself. She was a grown woman and she was behaving like a child. A lot of it was because of her own bruised ego. Just because she remembered their kiss and it had rocked her world didn’t mean it meant the same thing to Matt.

  Although it would have been nice if he had at least remembered.

  Or would it have made things even more awkward right now?

  The gasp she took at the question had her choking on her pizza and Aaron immediately jumped up to pat her on the back and make sure she was all right. When she was finally able to stop coughing, she thanked him.

  “Just went down the wrong way,” she said breathlessly. “Thanks.”

  He eyed her carefully as he sat back down, and after assuring him again she was fine, Aaron went back to eating. “Try taking smaller bites,” he teased.

  She smiled at him and took a minute before she started eating again. And that’s when it hit her. She realized she was looking at this situation entirely the wrong way. Matt didn’t remember—he had no clue she had essentially come on to him and then gotten herself thrown out of the arena. This was seriously great news! She didn’t have to feel embarrassed or ashamed because no one knew about that small blip in her judgment except for her!

  Holy crap is that freeing, she thought excitedly. It was all in how she looked at it. It was going to continue to sting a little bit if she obsessed about it, but if she put the right spin on it, thi
s was all good. Matt would be here for a month, and she could act as if this were the first time she was seeing him since she was a kid.

  No harm, no foul.

  Of course, there was still the fact that he was incredibly handsome and sexy and the object of most of her fantasies, but…as a mature adult, she could handle that too.

  He was off-limits.

  There was a lot of work to be done to settle into her new place and she was going to be busy with her new position at the magazine, so really, there shouldn’t be any lingering issues. She could totally control herself.

  And if there was one thing Vivienne had come to pride herself on—especially after the night in Matt’s dressing room—it was her self-control. She was the queen of it. Her world was carefully and systematically organized. She was starting a new job and moving into her new home, and even if Matt weren’t her brother’s best friend, she was too busy to think about getting involved with anyone.

  Even one of the sexiest men alive.

  In all fairness, it had been a while since she’d been in a relationship. Her job was her top priority and really, she was fine with it. Or she had been. The men in her life had all been business professionals who led fairly regular lives just like her. It was what Vivienne was comfortable with. And yet now she was wondering what it would be like to date a man who traveled, who was charismatic and charming and sexy and—

  Stop it! First of all, if he didn’t remember the kiss, it probably meant it was because Matt wasn’t attracted to her. Not that that bit of information did a whole heck of a lot for her self-esteem, but it did cement the fact that getting involved with him wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t in the cards. It wasn’t part of anyone’s plan.

  And that was a good thing.

  Yes. She nodded. It was a very good thing. Now was the time to focus on her career and getting settled, not on sexy rock stars. Taking a bite of her slice of pizza, she felt the last remnants of tension leave her body. Looking up, she couldn’t help but smile as Matt and Aaron engaged in a playfully heated debate about where to get the best pizza.

  Food. That was a safe topic, and one she loved to indulge in as well.

  Just then, Matt let out a hearty laugh, and when Vivienne looked at him, all she could think was, Yum.

  Look but don’t touch, she reminded herself. You can do this.

  And again, it was a good thing.

  Wasn’t it?

  Chapter 3

  Five days later, Aaron left on his trip overseas and Matt was alone in the house.

  And he was slowly losing his mind.

  At least he used to have Aaron coming home and the two of them helping Vivienne move to distract him. Now? He had nothing. Vivienne was completely unpacked—the woman was the definition of efficiency—and Aaron was going to be gone for weeks. So now what was he supposed to do?

  Walking back into his bedroom, Matt went to the closet and pulled out his guitar. There was a time when just touching the Les Paul was enough to energize and inspire him. But right now there wasn’t any music in him, and he wasn’t sure if he was disappointed to admit it.

  Back in the living room, he sat on the sofa and strummed a few chords. It sounded flat to him, and he figured maybe it had more to do with his mood. All of the blinds were drawn and he felt a little bit like he was living in a cave. There was almost no way anyone would be able to see into the house from the street—not with the mature trees that surrounded the property and the privacy fence—but Matt wasn’t feeling too secure in his environment yet. He’d have to think about it for a little bit longer before he’d be comfortable having the house more open or even stepping outside while the sun was out.

  God, he admonished himself, paranoid much?

  And the thing that bothered him the most was that there seemed to be a total lull in entertainment industry scandals. Seriously, there hadn’t been a drunken brawl, a divorce, or a young actress flashing the paparazzi in weeks. How was that even possible? And while he wasn’t in the headlines, there was still enough mention of him to keep him from wanting to go out.

  Forcing his attention back on what he was doing, he looked around the room and sighed. Aaron had a magnificent baby grand piano in the corner of the room. He’d admitted to Matt that he bought it more for the look than for practical purposes, and at the time, Matt had laughed. Leave it to Aaron to choose something so big and expensive that he had no intention of using.

  After a few minutes of mindless melodies, Matt put the guitar down and walked over to the piano and pulled out the bench. As someone who loved to play all kinds of music, he had grown up learning to play any instrument he could get his hands on. The piano was something that had always drawn him, but it was also the instrument he’d had the hardest time learning.

  Or maybe it was hard to find the time to learn on a quality piano.

  He touched the keys reverently. Aaron had mentioned how, even though he rarely touched it, he did maintain it and keep it tuned. For that, Matt was thankful because until Aaron got back, there wouldn’t have been a damn thing Matt could have done about it otherwise.

  For almost half an hour, he went through the basic drills he had managed to learn years ago. He even felt a little bit giddy when he remembered a few scales and arpeggios. There were plenty of mistakes, and it didn’t feel natural at first, but Matt was fairly confident that if he worked at it a bit, he’d readily improve.

  “Finally,” he murmured, “a purpose!”

  When his fingers began to cramp, he stood and stretched and then opened the bench seat to see if Aaron had any sheet music inside. He felt like he’d won the lottery when he found a stack of it. Taking his find over to the sofa, Matt sat down and sifted through it, seeing if there was anything in the pile that called out to him.

  There was such an eclectic variety to choose from—classical, pop, rock, and even show tunes. Matt instantly tossed the show tunes to the side. The last thing he wanted or needed now that he was feeling inspired was to be reminded of his recent failure. After almost thirty minutes of analyzing his options, he decided he would focus on learning four songs during the week: “Stairway to Heaven” because, well, Led Zeppelin, “Imagine” because it was one of John Lennon’s best songs, “Your Song” by Elton John because the man had been an inspiration to Matt when he was growing up, and finally “Piano Man” by Billy Joel because obviously the man knew how to play piano.

  There were many classical sheets in the bunch, but Matt wasn’t looking to play on that level. He wanted songs he had connections to, songs that had inspired him and songs he could relate to and maybe incorporate into his future work.

  With his decision made, he went and placed the four songs at the piano and tucked the rest back in the bench before making himself a sandwich. He felt like he had been up for days when in reality he’d slept until ten and it was only a little before one in the afternoon.

  This was another thing he was having to get used to: preparing meals for himself. Although putting a sandwich together wasn’t a hardship, it certainly had been a while since he’d done it. For so long, he’d been staying at hotels and had a staff on hand to handle things like this, and he felt like he was all thumbs as he put together a simple ham and Swiss sandwich.

  “Thank God no one is here to witness this,” he said with a chuckle. “I can just imagine if the damn paparazzi were lurking in the bushes and took pictures. ‘Matt Reed too incompetent to make a sandwich. Story below.’” And the sad thing was, it wasn’t all that unbelievable. Over the years, he had read plenty of stories that were similar to that one, where pictures that were simply taken at an inopportune time were turned into a media field day. It was somewhat funny when you weren’t the subject. Now that Matt had experienced it firsthand, he knew he’d never look at anything like that the same way again.

  Sandwich in hand, he grabbed a can of soda and went back out to the living room. He sat
down and picked up the television remote, figuring watching a little mindless TV would be okay while he ate. It didn’t take long for him to realize that daytime programming was definitely not geared for him.

  “Okay, dining in silence,” he said as he shut it off. With a long-suffering sigh, he ate his sandwich—probably quicker than he should have—and cleaned up. Returning to the living room, he looked at the piano and decided there was no time like the present to get started.

  It should have been fairly easy—after all, he wasn’t a complete novice—but his first few attempts at the intro to “Imagine” had him feeling completely out of his element.

  “It’s not supposed to be easy,” he quickly reminded himself. “You’re a guitar player, and most pianists take years of lessons to feel completely at ease with the music. It’s okay if this takes some time. Rome wasn’t built in a day.” Then he groaned at how he was at the point in his life where he had to offer up pep talks to himself.

  With a muttered curse, he stopped, took a deep breath, and then…his fingers began to glide with a little more ease. Every time he stopped due to a mistake, he’d made it a little bit further into the song. Granted, even without the mistakes, the music was rough, crude, but it still managed to fill Matt with a sense of pride and accomplishment.

  Eventually, he stopped relying so much on looking at the sheet music and let his memory of the song take over. His eyes closed as the music washed over him, and while he wasn’t anywhere near ready to go for a round of dueling pianos with Sir Elton himself, Matt knew it wouldn’t take long for him to have the confidence to incorporate playing piano into his original music.

  He played through the afternoon, and since the blinds were closed, he had no idea what time it was when he finally stopped from exhaustion. But it was the good kind of exhaustion—the kind that even though your muscles ached, you knew you had accomplished something. And really, considering how his past several weeks had gone, it was exactly the kind of thing Matt needed.

  Standing, he stretched. His stomach rumbled and his throat was dry. “Doesn’t matter what time the clock says, it’s time to eat,” he murmured, walking across the room to the kitchen. He opened the blinds on the window over the sink and looked out toward Vivienne’s cottage. Was she even home from work yet? In all their interactions over the last week, he never did ask what her work schedule was like.