Kisses Between the Lines: An Echo Ridge Anthology (Echo Ridge Romance Book 2)

by Lucy McConnell

  However, she did carry a bit of guilt. Even if she wasn’t Kirke’s wife or girlfriend, she should have at least been his friend. Instead, she’d allowed her wounded paw to turn her into a roaring lion. She couldn’t help but think her rash behavior had ruined any chance she had of saving the friendship.

  KIRKE TUGGED AT HIS SLEEVE as Bay’s driver pulled away and left them standing at the entrance to the Big Barn. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.” He’d kept a low profile since the article, only venturing out in the cover of darkness for food. Even then, he stuck to box dinners he could heat at home. Between the damage caused to the library because of the storm and the damage inflicted by his article, he was pretty sure the whole town of Echo Ridge hated him. Echo Ridge residents were wonderful people, help-your-neighbor kind of people, and the article had stomped on their way of life. Walking into the Dutch oven cook-off and barn dance on a Friday night with Bay felt like a really bad idea.

  Bay linked elbows with him. “This is the best idea I’ve had yet. We’ll get some pictures of us doing some down-home activities and post them on social media.” She waved her camera, already mounted on a selfie stick. “We’ll appear approachable, and the everyday Joe and Josephine fans will eat it up.”

  Kirke shook his head. Bay wanted it both ways. She wanted to roll over the top of people and have them adore her. The contradiction was all too clear in his eyes. He couldn’t decide if she was dumb enough to believe that worked or cunning enough to pull it off. People loved her. They fell all over themselves to get a picture with her, complimented her outfit, followed her every tweet, and bought her perfume and new line of clothing. She was a darling— from an arm’s length away.

  Without giving him time to respond, she yanked him through the wide doors and marched to the ticket table. The Big Barn had been transformed into a country fan fest. Checkered prints adorned tables, straw bales filled the corners, lanterns and music swung in the eaves. Kirke let his eyes roll over the setting.

  The moment he saw Jennifer taking cash and handing out long lines of tickets, Kirke’s mind told his feet to stop. It did. It yelled, screamed, and pleaded with his legs to stop moving. They didn’t obey, and he was soon staring into her deep blue, soulful eyes. Eyes that carried a million stories of hope and romance and love and … love. He could see the love right there, burning bright. His heart flared to life, and his body involuntarily leaned towards her.

  “Two, please.” Bay’s sickly-sweet voice hovered somewhere around Kirke’s reality.

  Jennifer dropped her gaze and fiddled with the lid to the cash box.

  “Hi.” Kirke squeaked like a mouse caught in the cookie jar.

  “Hello,” came Jennifer’s stilted reply.

  “Am I missing something?” Bay’s tone wasn’t as sweet as before.

  “Bay, this is my …” Kirke faltered before saying, “friend, Jennifer Solomon. Jennifer, this is Bay Barington.” Kirke was proud of himself for making it through the introductions without stumbling. Jennifer and Bay shook hands, giving Kirke a moment to take in the contrast between the two women.

  Bay was dressed in a costume with high-heeled, shiny brown boots; a tight pair of leather pants; a plaid button-up shirt tied at the ends so her belly flashed, and a kerchief fastened at her throat. Her hair was in a high ponytail, and she had on enough makeup to cover the cast of Narnia.

  Jennifer wore a pair of serviceable boots, jeans that hugged her just right, and a long-sleeved shirt. Her hair was down, and her natural beauty was enhanced by the heavy blush spreading across her cheeks. The color deepened when they made eye contact again, and an awareness surged inside Kirke. “Do you need help at the booth? I could stay.” Ask me to stay and I’ll never leave.

  Bay’s nails dug into his arm. “Kirke, honey, you promised me a dance.”

  “No need. My shift’s almost over,” muttered Jennifer.

  “So I’ll see you inside?” He clenched his jaw. If she said no, he’d pack up his lovesick heart right along with his other personal belongings before leaving Echo Ridge.

  “Um …” Her eyes darted to where Bay’s nails were slowly becoming a part of his flesh. “Maybe.”

  “I hope so,” he said, praying she would hear the sincerity behind his words.

  Bay cleared her throat and pulled him towards the dance floor. “What was that all about?” she hissed.

  Not caring if Bay was angry or not, Kirke said, “I told you, she’s my friend.” He pried her hand off his arm and smoothed out his sleeve. “I don’t appreciate being gouged.”

  “I’m sorry, darling.” She ran her finger down his cheek. “Shall we dance?”

  Kirke pulled his face away. The idea of holding Bay in his arms was as enticing as cuddling with a wild boar. “Let’s get something to eat.”

  “But it’s after seven,” she pouted.

  “Then you can watch me eat.”

  “Fine.” She stomped ahead of him to the buffet tables.

  JENNIFER WASN’T GOING TO GO inside the dance, but Kaitlyn showed up right as her shift ended and handed her a ticket for a free plate from the Dutch oven cook-off winner. “Mom said not to let you leave without making sure you eat dinner.”

  “Sounds great.” Jennifer kept her eyes off the dance floor just in case Kirke and Bay were twirling up a storm. Kirke and Bay. Ugh! They even sound cute together. Disgusting.

  Someone shrieked, and Jennifer’s eyes jumped to find the source. Bay stood by the shredded pork barbeque table, a plate of food stuck to her chest. Kirke was holding Mrs. Tumnus as if she’d tripped into him— which, by the surprised look on her face, she probably had.

  Jennifer and Kaitlyn exchanged a look, and then ran over to help. There was a small crowd, but for the most part, the party was still going strong. The loud music must have drowned out Bay’s shriek.

  “Are you okay?” Jennifer asked as she helped Mrs. Tumnus right herself.

  “I’m embarrassed, is all.” She looked at Bay. “I’m so sorry about your shirt.”

  “You should be!” Bay pried the plate off her front and whimpered at the pulled pork plastered across her chest like an advertisement for a barbeque pit.

  Kirke stood between her and Mrs. Tumnus. “Let’s head back to the hotel, and you can get cleaned up.”

  “This wouldn’t have happened if she was watching where she was going.”

  Jennifer put her arm around Mrs. Tumnus. “Don’t listen to her,” she said low.

  “Let’s go, Bay. Before you embarrass yourself.” Kirke put his hand on her back and tried to propel her towards the door, but her spiky boots must have driven themselves into the floor because she was immovable.

  “Are you kidding?! She should be locked in a home— not endangering others.”

  Jennifer’s hands curled into claws.

  Kirke’s face went hard. “You need to apologize. Mrs. Tumnus is a generous and sweet woman. Let’s go.”

  “What? No.” Bay flicked her wrist towards Mrs. Tumnus. “If anyone needs to leave, it’s her.”

  “She’s not the one making a scene,” Kirke ground out.

  Jennifer tossed her golden hair over her shoulder. “She’s also not the one who attacked Echo Ridge in a falsified newspaper article.”

  Bay gasped.

  “Yes, I figured out that it was you and not Kirke who said those horrible things. Once Mr. Barnes at the Gazette finds out that you misquoted and misled him, I’ve no doubt he’ll happily print a retraction.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Jennifer saw Kirke place his hand over his heart as if her words had healed a wound. “Jennifer,” he whispered with such reverence she almost forgot about Bay.

  Glancing towards Kirke, Jennifer smiled. “You would never use the word outlandish to describe Mr. Bedford’s pants.”

  Kirke stared at her in awe. “No, I wouldn’t.” He stepped towards her. “Jennifer, I— ”

  Jennifer didn’t get to hear the rest of Kirke’s statement because a piece of warm and spicy pork
smacked against her cheek. Alas, forgetting Bay Barington was in the room had been a huge tactical error.

  Jennifer turned on her, shocked. “Did you just throw food on me?” She swiped her hand over her cheek, dislodging a piece of pork.

  Bay licked her finger, innocence plastered across her face. “I wouldn’t do something like that.” Bay’s eyes narrowed.

  In the background, a line dance began. The pounding of boots against the hardwood floor mimicked a battle drum calling troops to take sides.

  Bay flicked her gaze over Jennifer and sneered. She grabbed the end of the tablecloth and yanked, sending plastic forks, cups, and plates scattering across the floor.

  Those close enough to see what happened gasped.

  “That’s enough! I’m calling security.” Jennifer retrieved her phone from her back pocket.

  “Go ahead. I’d love to tell them how this old bag not only ruined my shirt but took out half the table.” Bay shoved out her ample chest. “It’s your word against mine.”

  Filled with righteous indignation, Jennifer gestured to the people watching. “Our word against yours.”

  “Who do you think the public will believe? A few crazy wannabe hicks in plaid?” Her lip pouted out. “Or a picked-on actress who was trying to get away from the pressures of filming and was attacked by fans?”

  Jennifer hesitated. After seeing the damage Bay had done to Kirke’s reputation with one article, she had no doubts about Bay’s ability to spin a story her way. Heat flooded her face and burned her ears. She wasn’t the one to cause a scene or even participate in one. Not quiet little Jennifer. Yet she’d been thrust into the center of this drama and she didn’t know her lines. She searched for some leverage and found Kaitlyn pointing a cell phone in their direction. Mrs. Tumnus nodded encouragingly. Jessica from Kenworth’s was there, glaring at Bay, along with Anthony and the kids from the study group. Jennifer straightened. She was not that lost little girl anymore, and she wasn’t alone.

  “I may be nothing to the world, Bay. But I’ll bet the world would love to see their precious darling throw a tantrum.” She pointed to her right, and Bay turned.

  “Bay Barington, everyone!” said Kaitlyn. “Wave to YouTube, Bay.”

  “No,” Bay whispered as she pressed herself into Kirke’s chest. “Get me out of here.”

  Kirke’s eyes never left Jennifer.

  Jennifer held her breath. She wouldn’t beg, not even with her eyes. She would not be her mother. Would not be the woman scorned.

  But if Kirke left without knowing how she really felt for him, it would be over. There was no going back from siding with an ice queen. He’d choose his fate, his life, his path, and by leaving with Bay, he’d clarify that there was no place for Jennifer in his future.

  The moment was his.

  He placed his hands on Bay’s shoulders and pushed her away. “I’m staying— you go.” He took a step to the side and then laced his fingers through Jennifer’s, their palms touching and heat firing though her arm. “This is where I belong.”

  Jennifer felt her face split into a smile that was almost painful, it was so big.

  Bay’s face turned purple. “I’ll ruin you, Kirke Staples. You have no idea what you’ve done.”

  Jennifer felt her chest expand, the lioness inside roaring that one of her pack was threatened. “If you dare, I’ll have that video trending within five minutes.” She gestured to where Kaitlyn stood with her camera phone recording away.

  Kaitlyn waved. “I especially liked the part where you said old people should be locked up because they were a danger to society.” She gave them a thumbs-up.

  “I don’t think your producer would like that going viral,” said Kirke.

  Bay scoffed, but Jennifer could see the fear in her eyes. “You can’t prove that’s me.”

  “We don’t really have to, do we?” asked Kirke. “People will believe, and you may film a hundred more episodes and pretend to be the good girl, but you’ll be immortalized as an ice queen forever.”

  Her eyes flicked to Jennifer. A lightning storm played across Bay’s face, terrible and frightening, before she got it under control. Lifting her manicured hand, she flicked it towards Kirke. “You can have him, sweetie. Writers are a dime a dozen.” Attempting an air of sophistication she could never achieve with her level of acting skills, Bay pushed through the dance floor, leaving a trail of food dripping behind her.

  Jennifer grinned.

  Mrs. Tumnus was suddenly next to her. “Not bad for a girl from the wrong side of town.” She patted Jennifer’s cheek. “I’m glad I have friends like you.” Turning to Kaitlyn, she said, “Let’s see if we can get this mess cleaned up.” Kaitlyn grabbed a bunch of napkins and squatted down to wipe the floor.

  Jennifer went to help but was stopped by a hand on her elbow. She turned and was pulled into Kirke’s arms, where she completely forgot about the mess, Bay what’s-her-name, and her dinner. All she could see was Kirke looking at her with love in his eyes.

  HOLDING JENNIFER, KIRKE SUDDENLY felt like he’d been living in an alternate reality for the past couple of weeks and had finally made his way back to his true path. “You’re amazing,” he breathed.

  Jennifer’s cheeks did that blushing thing, and Kirke’s body warmed at the sight. “I think I surprised myself.”

  He chuckled as he placed his forehead against hers. She was the perfect height, the perfect fit. One touch, one ounce of acceptance from Jennifer had made him feel more like himself, more like a man, and more like the man he wanted to be than a hundred kisses from Bay ever could. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. For the things I’ve said and not said. For not treating you like you deserve.”

  Jennifer poked him playfully. “Are you done? Because I want my Kirke back.”

  “You win one battle for my soul, and all of a sudden you’re bossy.” He nuzzled her cheek.

  “I guess it’s hard to put the lion back in the cage.”

  He trailed his fingers down her arm and took her hand, bringing it to his lips, where he pressed a kiss into her palm. “I like your claws.”

  Jennifer leaned into him.

  “Your Kirke is here to stay.” He pulled back just enough to see her eyes. “If you’ll have him.”

  Jennifer lifted her shoulder, a playful smile on her tempting lips. “I guess I’ll have to.”

  “Have to?”

  “My heart would never forgive me if I didn’t.”

  “That’s a good line,” he murmured as he brushed his lips over her soft and willing mouth. Unable to believe he’d been able to hold back against the rush of desire when Jennifer’s lips were this close. Kissing her was everything he’d imagined and better than he could write. “Can I use it in my play?” He kissed her again, unable to break apart longer than one sentence.

  “Now I know my Kirke is back.” She dug her fingers into his hair and pulled him closer, molding her body to his. Kirke’s heartbeat spiked, and he couldn’t get enough.

  “Ahem!” Someone tapped Kirke’s shoulder, and he reluctantly broke away from Jennifer but tightened his hold so she didn’t slip away. Mrs. Tumnus gave them a bemused look. “If you’re going to neck, head to the hayloft. If not, we could use some help over at the barbeque.”

  “Which way’s the hayloft?” Kirke asked.

  Jennifer giggled and smacked his arm. “We’re headed over to help now.”

  “Thank you, dears.” Mrs. Tumnus wandered back to the table, where Kaytlin handed her a new plate of food.

  Kirke gave Jennifer a wounded look as she pulled him off to the side. “No hayloft?”

  Jennifer, bold and brassy, winked. “Who needs a hayloft?”

  At that moment, Kirke decided he’d always be grateful to Bay for one thing and one thing only— bringing out Jennifer’s lioness. The bold look in her eye, the confident tilt to her chin, they’d been there all along. It took seeing Jennifer’s opposite to recognize the greatness in the girl right next to him. And he’d almost l
ost her. He trailed his fingers down her arms, then back up to her shoulders and to her neck, where he massaged them into her hair. Jennifer sighed and her eyes fluttered shut.

  Kirke buried his face in her neck, leaving a trail of kisses burning into her skin. “I can’t go one more minute without telling you I love you.”

  In a moment of insecurity, Jennifer asked, “Why?”

  “Why?” Kirke pulled back to look her in the eye.

  “Why do you love me?” Lifting her shoulder and ducking her head, she prepared to deflect his words should they prove flippant or harsh.

  Tipping his chin, he searched the beams high above their heads with the same look he used to compose dialogue for his plays. His consideration over words was one of the things she loved about him. Too few people understood the importance of what they said. Not Kirke; he valued them enough not to smear them like cream cheese on toasted bagels.

  “I love you because of your quick mind, kind heart, and desire to do good in this world. I love you because of your love for books. The way you get lost in their pages is amazing to me. You value the truly valuable things in life and not the inconsequential. One look, one smile from you makes me feel like I’m enough and limitless all at once.”

  “Oh!” gasped Mrs. Tumnus. “Forget what I said earlier— kiss him!” She turned away, muttering something about making Mr. Darcy proud.

  Jennifer placed her hand on Kirke’s cheek. He turned, pressing his lips to her palm. The fire inside her started anew, burning with slow intensity and shooting sparks. She relished the feel of his soft beard under her palm. “I love you, too.”

  Kirke hooked his arm around her middle and tugged her tightly against him. “You heard the lady.” He nipped her ear and nuzzled her neck. “Kisses, my love.”

  Jennifer giggled. “If I must, I must.”

  “You must.” He didn’t wait for her to kiss him, but leaned over and stole a peck. “And must.” Another kiss.