About That Kiss

by Jill Shalvis

  wasn’t trying to take away your closure,” he said. “But God, Molly, you almost died. I had to—”

  “Be at my side,” she said. “That was all you had to do and all I ever needed.” She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. “Listen, you can’t protect me all the time, and no one expects you to. It’s the same with anyone in your life, okay? Kylie’s a big girl. She’d rather have you at her side while she fights her battles than have you fight them for her.”

  Shit. That actually made sense. Which meant she was right.

  She stepped closer and put her hand on his chest. “I need you to really hear this, Joe, and believe me. And then let it go. And then I need you to understand you’re doing the same thing all over again to Kylie and she’s not going to be as forgiving as your sister. See, I have to forgive you. We’re blood. I’m going to always love you whether I like it or not. But Kylie doesn’t have to forgive you at all. And if she doesn’t, and she dumps your sorry ass for real, I’m afraid you’re going to go back to . . .” She clamped her lips tight together, her eyes going suspiciously damp.

  “To what?” he asked softly.

  “To the man who doesn’t smile or laugh or let himself feel.”

  He closed his eyes. “Molly,” he breathed, and pulled her in for a hug. She held on tight, so damn tight that it was almost impossible to swallow the lump in his throat.

  She was right. He couldn’t protect her all the time and he had to accept that. Same with Kylie. And if he loved her—and damn, but he really did—he had to let her do this.

  I love her?

  Holy shit. He actually had to drop his ass to his couch because his legs got wobbly. Pulling out his phone, he texted the guys that there was going to be a change of plans. Kylie would go in first and talk to Kevin and get her damn closure if it killed him.

  And it might.

  They’d have her back, they’d make sure she was safe, and when she was satisfied by whatever answers she could get, they’d be there to finish it if needed and to drag Kevin’s ass to jail. “I’ve got to go,” he said.

  Molly smiled. “Tell her hi for me.”

  Joe drove through the early morning wondering why the hell it’d taken him so long to realize that this was the only way it could go down.

  And then there was the bigger epiphany of the night, the one he was trying damn hard not to dwell on.

  He loved Kylie, a fact far more terrifying than any job he’d ever taken on.

  He parked in front of Kylie’s place. The lights were no longer on. It was four thirty in the morning. She was undoubtedly asleep. He hated to wake her, but this couldn’t wait. There wasn’t much time before they’d meet up with the team.

  But she didn’t answer the door. Or her phone. And when he helped himself and broke in, he just about stopped breathing.

  She wasn’t home.

  He knew exactly where she’d gone. And why. He’d cut her out and now she was doing the same to him. He tried calling her again. Still no answer.

  Joe was trained to handle himself in any situation, but nothing had prepared him for this moment. For knowing she’d gone off on her own—because of him.

  He should never have tried to shield her. He should’ve just gone with her and trusted she could handle whatever they’d found, together.

  Worse, he realized something else—that as much as he couldn’t stand the thought of losing her, he’d lost her anyway by not trusting her. In his life, he tried really hard not to do anything stupid, but he’d definitely failed there. People tended to make assumptions based on words, but in Joe’s experience, people rarely said what they really meant. So he didn’t go by words. He went by steady, consistent actions.

  And all of Kylie’s actions told him she loved him too.

  Unfortunately, his actions hadn’t told her the same thing in return. Which really did make him an ass. His chest hurt, no doubt from understanding that this was how his life was going to feel without Kylie in it.

  Empty.

  He ran to his truck, calling Archer and the guys to move everything up to right this minute. He called the police. He called everyone and hoped he wasn’t too late.

  Chapter 30

  #SnapOutOfIt

  Kylie sat at her mom’s small kitchen table, drinking hot chocolate with little tiny marshmallows. When she’d been young, she’d had to drag a chair over from the table to climb up onto her grandpa’s cabinets to reach the box of prepackaged powder. He’d kept it hidden from her because she’d had no self-control, loving how she always felt like Wonder Woman when all the sugar hit her system.

  But her mom didn’t hide the stuff and Kylie was on her third cup.

  Wonder Woman still hadn’t shown up.

  But an entire volume of doubts had. When push had come to shove and Joe believed he’d had a viable suspect, he’d planned to handle it without her. He would’ve left her behind, when only days ago he’d promised to never leave her behind. “Men suck,” she said.

  “Yeah, they do.” Her mom came to sit at the table with her, carrying her own cup of hot chocolate. Or more accurately, rum with a dab of hot chocolate. “Men always suck. You sure you don’t need a kick?” She held up a flask.

  “I’m sure,” Kylie said. Her mom had a lifelong history with men sucking. Not that the woman had ever refrained from men, of course. In the old days, she’d visit Kylie at her grandpa’s, dote on her for a while, or at least until another man came along, and then poof, she’d be gone.

  Logically, Kylie knew she was angry at Joe because he was giving her bad flashbacks to her past. To when her mom hadn’t ever put any weight into who Kylie was, wanting so much more from her life than to be a mom in the first place.

  It’d been excusable when her mom had been a very young teen mom, but the pattern had been set and kept. She’d always chosen men over her daughter.

  And in turn, she’d chosen men who chose work over her.

  Maybe Kylie was overreacting. Okay, so she was definitely overreacting. All Joe was trying to do was keep her safe. She got that. She really did. But emotions like hurt and frustration didn’t respond to common sense. The bottom line was that this wasn’t a simple misunderstanding between them. They saw the world differently. A man like Joe would always be able to set her aside for something else. And she’d had enough of that for a lifetime. She deserved better. She needed to move on and get it for herself.

  The funny—and sad—thing was, out of all the ways she’d thought their relationship would come to an end, this hadn’t even been in the realm of possibilities, her realizing that she loved him and also that he wasn’t the One for her. With her chest far too tight, she downed the rest of her hot chocolate, beginning to rethink her no-rum stance.

  “So are you ever going to tell me what brings you here at . . .” Her mom glanced at the clock on the range. “Four thirty-eight in the morning? I’m not buying that it’s because you got hurt by some guy. You’ve never been all that invested in the opposite sex, certainly not enough to let one get to you.”

  Ha. That was a good one. But she shoved that deep because that had nothing to do with why she was here. The thing was, she wasn’t stupid. No matter that Joe didn’t trust her to use her brain, she knew better than to go after Kevin on her own. She’d never do that.

  But she wanted answers and her mom might be the one who could give them to her. “It’s complicated,” she started.

  Her mom smiled. “Kylie, honey, everything with you is.”

  Kylie sighed and told herself not to get mad. She was here for answers, not a fight. And anyway, she supposed she could be a little complicated.

  “It’s just that you seem . . . sad.” Her mom’s eyes were surprisingly free of cynicism. “Are you?” she asked. “Sad?”

  Well, that was one word for what Kylie felt. Devastated was another. “Do you remember Kevin Baker?” she asked.

  Her mom scrunched up her forehead. “Kevin . . . yeah, sure. He was the one who was a good cook, right? Always mak
ing pancakes in the morning. You loved his pancakes.”

  Kylie had indeed loved Kevin’s pancakes. He’d let her sit on the counter and stir the batter. “It’s possible he might have my penguin,” she said.

  “What penguin?”

  “Remember grandpa’s carvings?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Her mom went brows up. “You still have one of them?”

  “Had,” Kylie said. “Someone stole it and then started sending me pictures of it, saying I couldn’t have it back unless I authenticated two pieces as Grandpa’s.”

  Her mom frowned. “But I thought everything went up in flames in the fire.”

  “I thought so too, but one of the pieces looks legit. The other looks like a forgery.”

  “Then why would someone want you to authenticate it—” She broke off. “Oh,” she breathed. “Someone’s got a scam cooking. Wow. It’s kind of brilliant.” She caught Kylie’s expression. “And wrong,” she added. “Very wrong. You think it might be Kevin?”

  “I don’t want to think it, but there’s some evidence that puts him on the radar, so I want to talk to him.”

  “What kind of evidence?” her mom asked.

  “He took a piece to Eric Hansen, one of Grandpa’s apprentices, and tried to sell it as his own. Later, he moved on to claiming the work was Grandpa’s.”

  “Are you kidding me? That little piece of shit.” Her mom stood up and grabbed her purse and keys.

  “Wait,” Kylie said, following her to the door. “Mom, what are you doing?”

  “Going to pay Kevin a visit. If anyone’s going to make money off my dad’s talents, it’s going to be us.”

  “No. Mom, you can’t just—”

  But her mom was out the door.

  Kylie ran after her and caught up just as she was getting into her car. Kylie jumped into the passenger seat. “Mom, seriously. You can’t—”

  “I’m going to straighten this out. No one rips off a Masters.”

  Kylie held on as they catapulted out into the street. “Do you even know where Kevin lives?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you broke up years ago.”

  “He lives on his uncle’s boat. The old man died before I ever even met Kevin. Trust me, he’s not moving from that boat until he’s dead and buried.”

  “Okay, stop,” Kylie said. “Turn around. We need to go home. There are other people handling this. The authorities can—”

  “The authorities have never helped me out a day in my life. Don’t fool yourself, Kylie. We’re on our own.” She pulled into the marina parking lot, which was dark. Very dark. It was getting close to dawn, but the day wasn’t going to come with much light. The sky was heavy with an incoming storm.

  This wasn’t good. In fact, this was bad. Very very bad. Kylie pulled out her phone to call Joe, but she had no service. “Mom, check your phone. Do you have any reception?”

  Her mom pulled hers from her purse. “One bar. Not enough for shit.”

  “Which mean you’ve got to stop because we can’t call for backup. We’re not going to be the stupid chicks in the horror flicks, okay? So just pull back out onto the street and keep driving until we get cell service, and then we’ll—”

  “This first,” her mom said. “I just want to ask him some questions, no big deal. Wait in the car if that makes you feel better. I’ll be right back.” She pulled the car up to the shadows at the edge of the parking lot and hopped out of her still running car.

  “Mom—”

  But she was gone, heading for the docks.

  Dammit. Kylie crawled over the console, into the driver’s seat, and drove through the lot, one eye on her phone. She didn’t want to leave her mom but she had to call Joe. When one bar finally appeared, she nearly collapsed in relief. It wasn’t enough for a call, but she thought maybe she could get a text out. “Siri,” she said, eyes on the spot where her mom had vanished. “Text Joe. I’m at the marina with my mom, who’s gone in to talk to Kevin. Send.” She tossed her phone down, drove closer to the maze of docks, parked, and went after her mom. Maybe the woman hadn’t been all that great a maternal figure, but she was still the only one Kylie had. There was no way she could just sit in the car and wait for help.

  She tried to stay in the shadows as she headed to the dock. Once there, she was out in the open, but the sky was still dark and there were no lights. Stymied by the huge maze of docks, Kylie slowed to listen but couldn’t hear a thing except for the water slapping up against the pylons. “Mom?”

  No answer, but she thought she could hear the clicking of her mom’s sandals to the right, so she turned that way and nearly groaned at the amount of boats.

  An entire row of them, as far as the eye could see.

  But only one had an interior light on. Kylie headed that way, her stomach filled with dread. She so did not feel good about this. After creeping closer to the lone boat with the light, she hid behind a pylon and peered into one of the windows.

  The interior of the boat was tight quarters, jam-packed with . . . wood furniture. She crept closer to get a better look and froze. Most of the pieces were cookie-cutter pieces, a stack of the same headboards, another of identical nightstands, but mixed in were a few other things, such as a table that looked an awful lot like the one in the picture she’d received. Another was a unique grandfather clock that she recognized from her grandpa’s shop. The shop where everything had supposedly burned.

  Chapter 31

  #SayHelloToMyLittleFriend

  Panicked, Kylie once again called out for her mom. When she didn’t get a response, she moved to the ladder and boarded the ship, jumping to the deck. “Mom!”

  Still no answer, but she could hear voices now, her mom’s and a man’s, both raised. She rushed to the hatch door, not sure how to feel when she found it unlocked. A few steep steps and she found herself below deck in the area she’d seen through the window from the dock.

  Just beyond that, her mom and Kevin stood in a tiny galley, toe-to-toe, nose-to-nose. In unison the two of them turned and looked at Kylie, her mom not surprised, Kevin very surprised.

  “Kylie?” He sounded shocked. “What are you doing here?”

  Feeling oddly emotional at the sight of him, she pointed to the grandfather clock. “Where did you get that?”

  He looked confused. “What’s going on?”

  “Kylie’s question first,” her mom said.

  “Okay.” Kevin looked at the grandfather clock. “Your grandpa gave it to me.”

  Kylie shook her head. “He couldn’t have. It was in his shop on the night of the fire, still unfinished.”

  “He hadn’t finished a lot of things,” Kevin said. “Kylie . . .” Expression warm, he stepped closer. “It’s really good to see you. I—”

  “Hold on.” She held up her hand, staring at the clock. “How is it here if it burned?”

  He hesitated and she let out a rough breath. “You were at his shop that night. And you, or someone, took it and finished it.” She waited for him to say otherwise, hoping against hope there was a good explanation that didn’t involve him betraying her grandpa and one of the few good childhood memories she had.

  But he said nothing.

  “Explain,” her mom said to him. “Explain right now.”

  “Listen,” Kevin said directly to Kylie, ignoring her mom. “Clearly, there’s some confusion. Your grandpa gave me this piece before the fire, and it was finished. But great news, you’ve just confirmed it’s his work. Can I get you to authenticate that in writing?”

  “I’m not confused.” She’d offered to help her grandpa finish the piece and he’d been delighted with her interest. Only they hadn’t had the time before it was too late. She looked around and saw a Polaroid camera on the galley table, which made her heart start a heavy drumming in her chest. “Is that your camera?”