Blame it on the Kiss

by Robin Bielman

  “Looks like our search just got a little harder,” he said.

  She shivered, wrapped her arms around herself, and studied him. He could see the wheels turning in her head. Run back into the house or stay and find the last thing they needed?

  If there was a way to keep her dry, he would. The temperatures for February had been mild, but it couldn’t be more than sixty degrees outside.

  “Looks like.” She narrowed her eyes, turned, and that’s when a stream of water nailed her right in the face. Her hands flew up, she sputtered, her shoulders shook.

  Bryce rushed forward to cover her with his body and forget their search, but he stalled when he heard one of the sweetest sounds ever to reach his ears.

  Honor’s body didn’t shake with chills or misery, but with laughter. She cracked up, and apparently couldn’t stop. He found himself laughing right along with her until their clothes stuck to their bodies, and she took a deep breath to quiet down.

  Water droplets streamed down her face and clung to her eyelashes. She blinked up at him with mischief in her eyes, and the urge to kiss her overwhelmed him. Not like he had in the closet, with care and discretion, but with hunger and passion and pent up desire. He wanted to take her bottom lip between his teeth and deal with the consequences later.

  She put two fingers to her mouth to wipe away the moisture. Her chest rose and fell, the wet sweater doing very nice things to her curves. “We, uh, we’d better hurry,” she said before twisting around to continue their search.

  “Right. Time’s almost up.” They ducked and weaved through the sprays of water, seeking to end the hunt with one more token in their bag.

  “I got it,” she shouted from a crouched position. She stood and put something on her finger just as the sprinklers stopped. Her hand lit up. “It’s a light up diamond ring.” She walked toward him with her arm outstretched so he could check out the toy bling.

  He stared at her. Most girls would’ve had a fit if the sprinklers had soaked them. Not only had Honor laughed it off, she looked amazing and none the worse for wear as the pink light of the ring glowed at her waist.

  “Do not tell me you have x-ray vision and can see the color of my undergarments, because then I’d have to use this magic ring to one, make you color blind, and two, make your clothes disintegrate so everyone could see if you’re a boxer or briefs man.”

  His grin came quick and easy. “You want to see what I have on underneath my jeans, all you have to do is ask.”

  “No thanks.” She stopped in front of him.

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “You don’t look positive.”

  “How do I look?”

  He took a slow inspection down her body and back up. “You really want me to answer that?”

  “Boy, you had me fooled there for a minute Captain Underpants, but I see you’re just like every other guy, which is a huge relief, I can’t even tell you.” She brushed by him and headed toward the front door.

  “What does that mean?” He fell in step beside her. Something didn’t feel right inside him. He didn’t like being lumped in with all guys.

  “Here,” she slipped the toy ring off her finger and dropped it into their bag. “Be a good partner and turn our stuff in so I can raid Sophie’s closest for something to change in to.”

  “Grab me one of Zane’s shirts, would you?”

  She paused at the porch to slip off her shoes and slowly rake her eyes down and up his body. Touché. “Really? Zane’s got all sorts of muscle going on and I’m not sure—”

  He whipped off his shirt. Honor was messing with him, but he wanted to remind her Zane didn’t have anything on him. He took care of his body, often working out with the guys he represented. He put forth the best image possible for his agency and that included being in good physical shape.

  The appreciative look in her eyes told him she liked what she saw. She’d had her hands all over his chest in their hotel room, and if he closed his eyes he knew he’d remember exactly how hot her touch had made him.

  “Can I ask you something?” he ventured.

  “Okay,” she said to his chest.

  “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” He motioned his hand in the direction of his face.

  Her cheeks reddened. “Sorry, yes?”

  “Have you had your one night stand?” He fisted his hands. It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. But for some reason, he wanted to know. She might not be wired for it, but according to Payton, the two of them were like sisters, and if Honor promised to do the things on Payton’s list, he imagined she would keep that vow.

  Like the promise she’d probably made to keep him in the dark rather than track him down so he could have been there for Payton, too.

  She gulped and again he could see her mind at work in the way she blinked and her head tilted a fraction to the side. “No.” A crease drew her brows together. “But I might be able to remedy that these next few days. A couple of Zane’s friends seem like they’d be willing to help me out.”

  No doubt. “People hook up at weddings all the time, don’t they?”

  “That’s what I hear.”

  “Let me know if I can be of any help.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You don’t think I can manage this on my own?” Annoyance came through loud and clear, but something else lingered in the depths of her turbulent ocean eyes.

  “No. I don’t think that at all. I—”

  The front door flew open. “Hey,” Sophie said. “Here. You guys must be freezing.” She handed him a long sleeved thermal shirt and sweatpants, and Honor something pink and gray. “Leave your wet clothes out here, and then come back in for a warm drink. Oh, and I’ll take this since time’s up.” She pulled the canvas bag from his hand and shut the door.

  He smiled at the surprise interruption and started to undo the button and zipper on his pants.

  Honor’s eyes widened and she spun around.

  “I’m good with you looking,” he said.

  “I’m not. Now turn around so I can change, too.”

  “Funny. You don’t strike me as someone modest.” He turned and wrangled his wet pants down his legs. Getting the dry sweats and shirt on felt great.

  “Oh my god.”

  He didn’t turn or say anything even though the frustration in Honor’s voice made it difficult.

  “My pants are stuck. I don’t think I can get them off without some help. Jesus, wet jeans are heavy and uncooperative.”

  A grin stretched across his face. “You want my help?”

  She let out a deep breath. “Yes, but you have to close your eyes.”

  “You going commando tonight?” he teased.

  “No, but…”

  He shut his eyes and turned. She took his outstretched hand and tugged him down to the ground. Once there, she helped him latch on to the bunched up denim at her thighs, he guessed. Do not peek, Bishop. Do not peek.

  “But?”

  “My panties are white and now see-through and there’s not a lot to them.”

  “Gotcha.” There wasn’t a red-blooded man alive who wouldn’t peek. “Let’s get these off you.” He pulled, she pushed and wiggled, and he got the pants to her feet in no time.

  “Thank you,” she said, a little out of breath.

  “No problem.”

  “Bryce!”

  “What?” Christ, she had sexy legs, and the barely-there material at their juncture left little to the imagination, so his thoughts leaped to about a dozen dirty scenarios.

  “Your eyes are open!”

  “Yeah, sorry.” He jumped to his feet and gave her his back while she mumbled things like jackass and jerkwad as she got dressed.

  “I’m done,” she huffed.

  She wore a pair of loose sweats and had freed her damp hair so it fell past her shoulders. A small black smudge stained the smooth skin underneath her left eye.

  He licked his thumb and ran it over the blemish. Her breath caught. “You had so
mething there.”

  “Honor?” came a guy’s voice from the driveway.

  Her attention jumped over his shoulder. “Cooper. What are you doing here?”

  Bryce turned, and much to his surprise recognized Cooper right away. He’d had a few conversations with him over the phone and they’d met briefly during White Strand’s film festival.

  “Sophie wanted me to come by.” Coop smiled warmly at Honor before turning an eye to him. “Hey dude, I know you, right?”

  “Hey, Cooper. Bryce Bishop.” He put his hand out.

  “Mr. Bishop, that’s right.” Cooper gave a firm shake. “We’ve got a meeting next week.”

  “Hold on,” Honor said, stepping between them. “What meeting? How do you guys know each other?”

  “I’m hoping to represent him. How do you two know each other?”

  Honor put her hands on her hips. “Cooper’s my brother.”

  “Younger brother,” Cooper said, “so I’m apologizing now for her over-protectiveness.”

  Cooper Mitchell was Honor’s brother? Shit. He’d never thought to ask Honor her last name, not that he would have put the two together until now anyway. Coop Mitchell was the local boy Bryce wanted to sign. The nineteen-year-old skateboarder had won every amateur competition out there, and with new, bigger sponsors after him, his first X Games on the horizon, and his well-known injury and comeback headline news, he needed an agent. Bryce’s biggest adversary was after him, too, but Bryce planned to come out the winner. Win or go home, his dad had drilled into him.

  “You want to be his agent?” Honor asked, the corners of her mouth dragging down and shadowing the ray of light that seemed to follow her.

  “Yes.”

  She swung back to her brother. “I thought you were taking things slow?”

  “I’m done with slow. I’m 100 percent and now’s the time. I’ve got this, H.”

  “You’re not 100 percent. You’ll never be 100 percent.” Tension and love rang with her words, so much love Bryce felt it in the middle of chest.

  “Mr. Bishop, sorry.” Cooper stepped around his sister. “You don’t need to hear us talk family stuff. I look forward to our meeting. I’m gonna go say hi to Sophie and Zane.”

  Bryce nodded. The kid had poise. And determination. After his back injury many thought he’d give up skateboarding. But athletes at his level didn’t give in. They couldn’t. Their sport lived in their blood and quitting wasn’t an option.

  He glanced at Honor after the front door shut. With her head canted down he couldn’t make out how she felt, but it didn’t matter. He’d give his best to Cooper, professionally and personally. He didn’t know how not to be friends with his clients, even though that mentality had cost him this last year.

  One of his athletes had done the unthinkable. Gotten drunk at a party and assaulted a woman. The press went crazy and the backlash had almost cost Bryce several of his other clients who didn’t want to be associated with something so horrible. Bryce didn’t blame them. He and Danny had dropped the asshole, and with help from a few respected friends and Bryce’s father, managed to lose only two other clients. Rebuilding the Bishop-Ellis reputation was still a work in progress.

  Bryce shuddered, regret and that slow burn of anger he still couldn’t shake thrumming through his veins. His father’s look of disappointment even as he took care of the breach of contract lawsuit thrown at Bryce and Danny still lingered, and Bryce wanted nothing more than to make his father proud. Adding a good kid like Cooper to his agency was the best way to do that.

  …

  “Why do we have to put the seat down? Why can’t women put the seat up?” Cooper said, adding his two cents to the group discussion on relationships. Honor glared at her brother from across the breakfast bar in Zane and Sophie’s kitchen. He never put the seat down. They shared a house and many a late night run to the bathroom had her butt falling into the toilet.

  “Dropping the seat takes a fraction of a second,” she said, noting the guys—Bryce, Danny, Zane and Zane’s brother-in-law Mark—nodded in agreement with her brother.

  “True,” Bryce said, “and I guess lifting the seat takes a fraction longer?”

  “Lifting it takes a hand, so there’s more effort involved.”

  “True again. And men appreciate it when a woman uses her hand.” A sexy little gleam in the corners of his eyes kicked Honor’s heart rate up a notch.

  The guys chuckled. “Definitely,” Danny said, one side of his mouth quirking up.

  Sophie harrumphed. “Men need the seat down, too sometimes. Women never need it up.”

  Honor spewed her coffee across the counter. Everyone else cracked up. Sophie’s cheeks flamed red, but Zane pulled her closer and whispered in her ear.

  “Okay. Time for everyone to go,” Sophie said, scooting all of them up and out. “Thanks for making this such a fun night.”

  The adorably happy look on Sophie’s face filled Honor with a mixture of joy and longing. That second emotion got Honor to take hold of her brother and move faster than everyone else. She grabbed her bag of goodies for winning the scavenger hunt and hauled Coop out the door with a quick “bye” over her shoulder.

  “Jeez, H, where’s the fire?” Coop asked on their way down the driveway.

  “Just hurry up. Did you walk here?” He nodded. “Me, too.” As soon as they cleared the corner, she let go of his arm and slowed her steps. Took a quiet, deep inhale, the cool, crisp night air filling her lungs. Winter nights were her favorite.

  “Do Mom and Dad know about the agent thing?” she asked. Their parents were celebrating their anniversary with a Sun Princess cruise and had two months left on the trip. They tried to touch base when the ship docked in port.

  “Yeah, they’d gotten some calls before they left. Dad’s got some hotshot from CAA he wants me to meet with next week.”

  “I really don’t think you’re ready for this. Please don’t let Dad pressure you into jumping back in too soon.” Honor loved her father, but sometimes he pushed Coop a little too hard.

  “This isn’t about you. It’s about me, and I’m making the decision to move forward.”

  Honor put a hand on his arm to bring them to a stop. Her stomach clenched. For almost two years he’d been fighting his way back, and she’d never been prouder. What was a little more time? “You’re too young to make a decision like this on your own. How do you know these guys have your best interest? They see dollar signs and nothing else. At least wait until Dad gets back.”

  “I can’t…” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to wait. I’ve been practicing non-stop, hitting the gym, and I’ve dominated the past three tournaments I entered. In the next month I’m getting an agent and announcing I’ve gone pro.”

  He’d been a week away from that announcement when he had his accident. Fear clambered up her spine. One wrong landing and he’d never walk again. But her brother had what she never did. Tenacity. And he refused to let one mistake beat him.

  She wished she could say the same.

  “I’m only looking out for you.” She started walking again. With their parents a million miles away, she was responsible for her brother.

  “Don’t need it.” He put an arm around her shoulders and smiled that lopsided grin that made girls fall all over him.

  “We’ll see.” Agents were cutthroat, putting their professional goals above their client’s well being. Or so she remembered from two years ago when a few came sniffing around her brother.

  “Let’s change the subject since I know how much you like to talk about yourself.”

  “Pfft.” Coop was one of only a few people who could get her to share stuff. He didn’t judge, didn’t call her flighty, and could keep a secret. Unlike the rest of her small hometown.

  “You got all sorts of wedding crap this weekend?”

  “It’s not crap.” She whacked him in the stomach.

  “Ow.” He fake rubbed his rock hard abs like they hurt. “I can help with the store… af
ter all the wedding crap.”

  Honor rolled her eyes. “That would be great. Thanks.” The store was number four on Payton’s list. As an event specialist for the mayor’s office, Honor kept busy, but not that busy, and she and Pay had tossed around the idea of opening an antique store. They’d both been history majors in college and Honor loved old things—furnishings, pottery, glass, jewelry, movie memorabilia, anything from life in the past. She’d started collecting things as a kid, her eye drawn to items that looked homeless, like they didn’t belong. So after Payton passed away and Honor saw “open an antique store” on her list, she’d asked her father for a loan to get started.

  Occasionally things worked in her favor, and she’d grabbed the small space on Main Street that became available two months ago. In her free time she’d been working to get it ready.

  “I’m crazy good with a paint brush,” Cooper said, breaking into her thoughts.

  “You’re crazy good at everything.” She put her arm around his waist and her head on his shoulder as they continued down the sidewalk.

  “True. And since I’m helping you, think you could sign my name to your wedding gift for Sophie and Zane?”

  “Already did.”

  “Sweet.”

  In Cooper language sweet equated to thank you. It also described her brother. He hated hearing it, and much preferred “badass,” but they had each other’s backs and in Honor’s world that meant sweet.

  They walked in silence the rest of the way to their cozy two-bedroom house across the street from the beach. Honor opened the front door and the second they went inside, peace fell over her. Nothing could touch her inside these four walls.

  “’Night, H.” Cooper headed down the hall to his bedroom.

  “’Night.” She put her gift bag on the upholstered ottoman that served as a coffee table and plopped down on the chenille sofa, her butt so comfy in the soft fabric it wanted to divorce her and marry it. While her brother could walk into his room, climb into bed, and be asleep in under a minute, she needed a few minutes to decompress.

  “I’m sorry, Pay,” she whispered, thinking back to when she’d kissed Bryce. “Truly sorry.”

  She’d apologized to Payton more than once over the course of their friendship. They’d fought like sisters, forgave like sisters. But this apology didn’t take away the stab of regret. How could it when the impossible attraction she felt for Bryce only intensified every time she saw him.