Kiss Me Back

by Sidney Halston

  Slowly I unwrap my legs and he sets me on my feet. “Are…are you the new volunteer?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why? How?” I’m shaking, I can’t even begin to process this.

  “Why?” He reaches for my nose and taps it. “Well, I can’t live on the other side of the world from the woman I love, obviously. So I did a lot of research on how to get to you. I don’t know enough sign to be a teacher and I’m not a nurse, but I can play soccer. At least enough to play with the kids and teach them the basics.” He gives a self-deprecating smile.

  I look around and the entire village is looking at us but I don’t care. “I’ll probably never hear again.”

  “Okay?” He looks confused by my statement.

  “I just…this is a big commitment, you coming here. Quitting your job for someone with all my baggage.”

  “Being with you is a privilege for me, not the other way around. You make life better, and you have no baggage—I don’t ever want you to say that again.” His gaze is completely serious. “I’ll probably never read perfectly.”

  “Who cares about that? You’re perfect to me,” I say cupping his face in my hands. “I’m the one who you have to accommodate your life for.”

  “Babe, in all my years, there’s one thing that not a single person ever told me—that I am good enough. Perfect wasn’t even in the equation. I never imagined, not in my wildest dreams, that I would have to convince someone that I’m damaged. But I swear to God, it makes me so happy that you think that. I guess we’re perfect for each other, huh?”

  “Perfectly imperfect.” Now I’m crying in earnest.

  “I don’t have to accommodate anything to be with you, sweetheart. I haven’t since the moment I met you. You’ve taught me so much about myself. I realized that all the material shit, the stuff I did to prove myself worthy, it’s nothing if you’re not in my life. So, here I am. I think my calling is to be with you. As corny as that sounds, I just want to be near you and make your life easier, and if I can make that my career I’m willing to do that. Even if it means living in a hut in a jungle.”

  “I love you, William Fox.” I wipe my nose with my hand. Then he pulls me to him and kisses me fiercely, bending me back in one of those Hollywood kisses. Suddenly, we’re surrounded by children and when I look around they’re all staring at us with puckered lips and giving us kissy faces. The adults are all smiling too.

  And today, today is the best day ever.

  Epilogue

  Fox

  It turns out I’m not cut out for huts, which is not a huge surprise. But I endure it because the upside is that I get to sleep close to a naked Lola every night—mostly because the bed is the size of a cot and it’s a hundred degrees outside.

  Other than that—and the killer mosquitoes—I can’t complain. While Lola is loving her job working with the kids, I have to admit I think I’m getting more out of it than she is. The villagers love me and I’ve never felt so rewarded as I do hanging out in gym shorts and a T-shirt and just kicking the ball with a bunch of happy children. In exchange, they’re teaching me Spanish.

  When I met Lola, I could barely read English, now I’m getting more fluent in ASL and I’m learning Spanish. I never pictured my life going in this direction. I’ve also never felt more fulfilled or happier in my life. All my personal belongings fit in a duffel bag, I have nothing of real physical value, but every night I go to sleep with a full belly and a beautiful woman in my arms. What else could I ask for?

  In a few weeks we fly back to Miami for Lola’s graduation and I have from now until then to decide what I want to do with my life. WDEP has already started sharing information with her about their program in Thailand, and Lola’s face lights up every time the other volunteers talk about it, but she hasn’t committed to anything and I know it’s because she’s waiting for me to make a decision. She’s not pushing me one way or another. In fact, we haven’t even talked about it.

  This is the second time our relationship feels like it’s on a timetable. But this time it’s different because I have made one decision. Regardless of what happens, I don’t think I’ll return to Panic or Duality. I’m enjoying life’s little thrills and the beauty of the jungle and the happiness that my woman exudes every single day she’s doing what she loves. And something I’ve learned about myself is that Lola’s happiness is tied to my happiness and that’s all I need right now. Some people want to be doctors, or lawyers, or teachers. And some, like me, have dreams of making someone else happy. It’s that simple. I have never in my life been able to figure out what I love to do or what I want to do. It’s always been about proving something to someone. Finding out that I don’t want for anything by having nothing has been the biggest irony of it all.

  Lola

  “Has the mail arrived?” he asks. We’ve been waiting for our plane tickets back to Miami for my graduation.

  “Not yet.” They were supposed to get here last week but there was some mix-up with the dates, and with the Internet being so spotty, it’s hard to figure things out from the middle of the jungle. A few weeks seem like a long time to be worried, but things are slow moving around here.

  We’re both lying on a hammock when he nudges my rib. “I hear a truck.”

  I jump up, almost causing him to flip over. “Fingers crossed it’s the mail.”

  Luckily, it is and the man begins to distribute packages and letters to everyone. We have a few. I open the one that looks like it’s from the airline first, and I’m relieved to find the tickets with the correct information this time. “Finally.” Now with the date in place, we can arrange for our transportation to the airport, which is an ordeal all on its own.

  “I’m going to miss this village,” Fox says.

  “Me too.”

  He puts an arm over my shoulders to bring me closer and kisses my head. “What else?” he asks, gesturing to the other mail. There’s a box from Vivian—she’s sent me a few care packages with snacks, including jars of peanut butter and photos of my favorite pets, since I’ve arrived. I’m looking forward to opening that one. “What’s this?” I look at an envelope addressed to William Fox from the Law Offices of Leon & Marty.

  He looks at me and shrugs, then rips it open and hands it to me to read. I quickly skim it and my eyes widen.

  I cover my open mouth with my palm. “Oh. My. God!”

  “What?” He grabs the letter.

  “Your dad. He…Fox, he had life insurance and a will. He left you over a million dollars. They’ve been trying to locate you for months.”

  His eyes widen. He looks down at the letter and carefully and slowly reads it for himself.

  “Sonofabitch. Wow,” he says, mostly in shock. “I can’t believe my father did this. I can honestly say it’s the only decent thing he’s ever done for me.”

  “Now you can sleep on a bed in the Four Seasons instead of a hut.” He’s just staring at the letter. He’s still surprised, I think.

  He folds the letter into a little plane and tosses it into the air. “Someone once told me, ‘Do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life.’ ” I remember telling him that when we first got together. I can’t believe he remembers. “Being with you, Lola, is what I love to do.”

  “Well, then, I guess you’ll never work a day in your life.”

  Helen

  “I heard Fox isn’t coming back,” Jane says as she helps me put up the chairs around the bar. “And get this, rumor is he got a big inheritance.”

  “Lola is one lucky girl.” I say wistfully, trying not to think about all my financial troubles.

  “She sure is. They’re somewhere in Thailand right now while we’re here at five in the morning cleaning a sticky counter.”

  “I thought they were in Ecuador.”

  “They were,” she says. �
��But apparently she was accepted to some program in Thailand and he went with her.”

  “Wow. I did not see that coming,” I say.

  Iggy walks by and starts to shut down the lights. “Women do weird shit to men. You’d never catch me following some chick around the world like a pussy-whipped asshole.”

  “Bitter much?” Jane says.

  “Not bitter. Smart,” he says, tapping his head, then winks. “Anyway, if any of you know of any good servers or bartenders or if you want to switch to upstairs, we have a couple of openings.”

  “Upstairs? Topless?” I ask.

  “You know the drill,” he says.

  I can’t.

  Never.

  Not even to help mother pay for her treatments.

  “I heard Stephanie’s making over eight hundred dollars a night,” Jane says as she grabs her purse.

  “Eight hundred dollars a night!” I yelp.

  Maybe never is too strong a word, after all.

  To my tribe. Thank you for making it my favorite place on the Internet!

  Acknowledgments

  The theme today is PATIENCE!

  I absolutely love working with Loveswept, specifically with Junessa, as well as the PR team. I’m so grateful to have such a wonderful group in my corner for these last nine books. Without Junessa and her endless patience, this book would not have been possible. I think this one had more rounds of edits than any of my previous ones, but I love the end result and I hope everyone else will too.

  As always, I have to thank Sarah, my agent, who is the reason this book, and the other dozen books, are even possible. Love you, Sarah E. Younger! Thank you for always being patient. I know my late-night, ranty, all-over-the-place emails drive you nuts, but you never show it. Sometimes a girl just needs to write her agent her hopes and dreams and have said agent make it make sense. And you always do!

  And last but not least, there is a tribe of people who have had a hand in making my dreams come true: Heather, my PA, my friend, and my beta reader. Thank you! Leisha…thank you for your support, always! And, of course, my family, especially my husband, who mans the household so that I can have time to write. If anyone is patient, it’s my husband. It doesn’t go unnoticed. I love you and appreciate you so much more than you’ll ever know.

  And last and most important—all of you readers and bloggers who continue to buy and read and support me. Without you, there would be no books, no dreams coming true, no hot sex scenes…just boring lawyering! So…thank you, thank you, thank you.

  BY SIDNEY HALSTON

  Worth the Fight Series

  Against the Cage

  Full Contact

  Below the Belt

  Laid Out

  Fighting Dirty

  Stacked Up

  Panic Series

  Pull Me Close

  Make Me Stay

  Kiss Me Back

  PHOTO: © GABRIEL ESCUDERO

  SIDNEY HALSTON lives her life by one simple rule: “Just do it.” And that’s exactly what she did. At the age of thirty, having never written anything other than a legal brief, she picked up a pen for the first time to pursue her dream of becoming an author. That first stroke sealed the deal, and she fell in love with writing. Halston lives in south Florida with her husband and children.

  sidneyhalston.com

  Facebook.com/​Sidneyhalston

  Twitter: @SidneyHalston

  Read on for an exciting sneak peek of Sidney Halston’s next book

  What About Us

  Coming soon from Loveswept

  Chapter 1

  Alex

  “Scotch. Double. Your best,” I say to the bartender who looks at me like I’m fresh meat and she’s about to take a deliciously wicked bite. She flips her hair and smiles brightly but I’m not here to meet a woman and even if I was, a bartender at a nightclub isn’t my thing. Hell, a nightclub isn’t my thing. When my expression remains stoic, her smile fades and she hustles to get my drink.

  “Loosen up, Alex. We still haven’t even gone upstairs,” Glen, the owner of PharmEc, the company I’m trying to purchase, says to me as he smiles and flirts with every female that crosses his path. Our meeting began at my office this afternoon where we talked about business, then he wanted to go to dinner. Dinner is part of the wine-and-dine shitshow I do daily. Normally I can deal with it, but when he said he wanted to go to a nightclub, I almost told him to fuck off. Except my father’s voice rang in my ear.

  Play the game, son. Just don’t forget, even your friends have an ulterior motive.

  Years ago, our family had been royally fucked over by Edward Blackwater, my godfather and my father’s best friend and business partner. When my dad said to trust no one, he was speaking out of experience. Painful stab-in-the-back-lose-everything kind of experience. Most people were motivated by money and power. Friendship is all a bunch of bullshit.

  So, here I am in Duality. Playing the game. Buying drinks and being friendly. That is, until I get what I want and what I want is PharmEc. Tonight, I’m the amiable host who’ll be a great fit for Glen’s business. Tonight, I’m the man who’ll show Glen that a life of leisure and excess is much better than having to go to work every day and run an empire. I need to seal this deal and soon—my PI guys already told me sneaky little Glen’s also been negotiating with my competitors since last week.

  But it’s getting difficult to keep pretending I want to spend one more second with the dirty old man and his huge gut and crooked tie. Considering his current wealth and what he’s about to amass when the sale goes through, he could at least wear a real tie instead of a clip-on.

  Patience is not my strong suit. In fact, I have zero of it. But, this is a huge deal for Archer Technologies and it’s infinitely easier to purchase the company outright than to take it over, or so my attorneys say. But if I’m forced to play nice and drive the douchebag to one more place, I’m calling those same attorneys and going the hostile route.

  The bartender slides the drink over to me, the loud music irritating my mood even further. And l won’t even get started on the strobe lights. I take a gulp and let the warm liquid work its magic on my nerves. “And what’s upstairs?” I ask, feigning a smile.

  “Jesus, Alex. Everyone who’s anyone knows what Duality is. Downstairs is vanilla and upstairs is a tittie bar.”

  I put down my drink and adjust my cufflinks, impatiently. “Not happy with your wife’s tits?”

  “I’d rather see young new ones,” he sneers, as he takes out a wad of dollar bills. I roll my eyes and glance at the signs that are all over the club.

  “This isn’t a strip club. You can’t touch the employees. It says it everywhere.”

  “You’re a millionaire. I’m sure with our cash flow, they’ll let us do whatever the hell we want. I bet I’m fucking one of them within an hour.” He puts his drink down and fans the cash. “When you’re ready to get laid, meet me upstairs and I’ll pick a nice piece of ass for you. Or maybe you prefer small and petite? Buyer’s choice,” he jokes and slaps my shoulder and heads the opposite way.

  I exhale loudly and move to a booth in a dark corner where I can avoid everyone and wait for Glen to finish up…or get arrested.

  At this point, jail is my preferred option.

  Helen

  “That’ll be sixty-four fifty, hon.” I smile widely at the guy in front of me and in return get a big tip.

  “What will it be?” I ask another guy as I close out the other tab. The club’s packed and it’s been nonstop since I started working four hours ago. Thank God, because if I stop for a minute, my mind will wander to all my problems.

  Fritz, the newest bouncer, signals for me. “Boss wants you at VIP as soon as you can. Jane had an emergency and had to bail.”

  “Got it.” I
finish what I’m doing and let the other three bartenders working with me know that they’re on their own for the rest of the night.

  Working VIP is weird. You’d think we’d all be fighting for the spot. But we’ve quickly learned that there are two kinds of VIPs. The assholes who spend thousands upon thousands for bottle service and flaunt their wealth but when it comes time to pay, don’t leave a tip. And then there’s the generous group who’ll drop a grand after only an hour. I’m hoping for the latter tonight. Hell, I’m praying for it. God knows I need the money.

  I wave at the bouncer who opens the red velvet rope to allow me access to the VIP area. Matt, one of the owners of Duality, is working the register and when he sees me he sighs in relief.

  “I got this, boss man,” I say to Matt.

  “Thanks, Helen. Blue Label neat,” he instructs, as he points to a booth in a corner.

  “Got it.”

  I finish pouring the drink and then go around to the isolated booth. The back is high, so I can’t see who’s on the other side.

  “Whiskey?” I set it on the table without looking at the customer. I’m already halfway turned to go back to the bar when I hear, “Thank you.” The voice is deep and baritone and strangely familiar, but I can’t exactly pinpoint how I know it. Nonetheless, my skin erupts in goosebumps.

  His arms shoots out and he grabs my wrist to stop me from walking away.

  “I know you,” he says.

  I turn around and squint at him. As soon as one of the strobe lights shines our way I see his face. It’s a face I daydreamed about throughout my teenage years, most of my twenties, and even now, at thirty, every time a handsome man with jet-black hair looks my way I still think about that face. “Alex? Alex Archer?” I say, surprised.