The Last First Kiss (Harlequin Special Edition)

by Ferrarella, Marie

  “All right, let’s get this over with.” Then, pausing to brace himself—an exaggerated moment for her benefit—he took Kara’s hand in his.

  She leaned her head slightly into his and whispered, “It’d be a bit more romantic if your teeth weren’t clenched.”

  “Baby steps, Kara. Baby steps,” he replied as he walked toward the house.

  Kara did her best not to notice that when his hand enveloped hers, a strange feeling of well-being, of protection, washed over her. It was almost as if something inside her felt that all was well in heaven and God was in His kingdom.

  She would have philosophically chalked it up to preperformance jitters, except that she’d never had any, not even when she’d taken to the actual stage in elementary school. She was a ham and loved the spotlight, loved being the focus of attention. This, however, felt different somehow. She decided now wasn’t the time to explore why.

  “Showtime,” she murmured to Dave as they stood on the front porch, which was completely festooned with balloons.

  Dave said nothing as he rang the doorbell. A moment later, the door opened. Dave’s cousin Melissa was a tall, willowy, dark-haired woman with an easy, welcoming smile. A smile, Kara realized, that resembled Dave’s a great deal.

  Not that it mattered.

  “Kara,” she greeted her warmly. “Dave said he’d be bringing you.” Taking Kara’s free hand in both of hers, Melissa lowered her voice before continuing, “I can’t thank you enough for getting that game for Ryan. He’s talked about nothing else since he saw the first commercial for it two months ago. Every place I tried was sold out and told me they would be for weeks. My husband, Simon, and I really hated knowing he was going to be disappointed, but now because of you, he isn’t going to be.” Dave’s cousin underscored her statement by giving Kara a fierce hug.

  She was surprised that Dave had actually given her credit in this matter. Maybe he wasn’t as easy to read as she’d initially thought.

  Released from the bear hug, Kara brushed off the woman’s thanks quickly. “Part of the perks for working at a company that pays dirt,” she confided flippantly. “I brought Ryan a few other games,” she added, raising the shopping bag in her hand. “They’re all age-appropriate,” she assured Melissa.

  “I may never get Ryan to go to bed again.” Melissa laughed. “Just leave it on the birthday pile over there.” She pointed out a card table that had been set up on the side. Someone was calling her name and she was already withdrawing. “There are beverages in the kitchen and snacks all over the place. Please help yourself to anything you want.”

  Pointedly, if perhaps a beat belatedly, Kara looked at Dave and told his cousin, “I already have everything I want.”

  She hoped it wasn’t obvious that the words had stuck in her throat and had to be forced out. Dave, to his credit, didn’t look surprised. He remembered the plan. When she slanted a glance toward his cousin, Melissa was beaming, as if she was genuinely thrilled for them.

  Obviously everyone in his family had, until now, just assumed Dave was going to remain a grumpy, unattached bachelor for the rest of his life, Kara thought. Apparently she was regarded as the answer to their prayers.

  “Your mom’s already here,” Melissa told Dave, then glanced back at Kara. “Yours, too.”

  Kara stretched her lips back in a smile that Dave found unreadable—but he could make an educated guess as to the feeling behind it.

  “Wonderful,” Kara commented. Looking at Dave, she said, “Let’s put the gifts on the table, Dave.” At the last minute, she stopped herself from adding the y, managing to stretch out his name instead.

  “Sure, Kara.”

  “Try not to sound so stilted,” she whispered as they walked away, taking care that Melissa didn’t overhear them.

  “That’s my everyday voice,” he told her, irritated. Was there anything she didn’t feel compelled to edit?

  “I know.”

  Dave let out a long breath but said nothing.

  Leading the way to the growing pile of birthday gifts, Kara took the games she’d wrapped less than an hour ago and deposited them on top. Dave waited until she was finished, then added his to the stack.

  “Laying it on a little thick back there, weren’t you?” he asked her.

  “Melissa obviously didn’t think so,” Kara pointed out. “She looked happy.”

  If that made her feel guilty, she was determined not to dwell on it. The old saying about breaking eggs and making omelets echoed in her brain.

  “Besides,” she continued, also keeping her voice low, “the more in love everyone thinks we are, the more impact the breakup will have. My mother—and yours—will feel just awful that their misguided matchmaking efforts brought us nothing but pain. In the end, that should keep them from ever attempting anything like this again. I figure that’s a good thing—unless you actually like being set up on blind dates.”

  Dave shivered at the mere suggestion of it. “God, no.”

  “Okay, then we’re agreed.” She looked around but didn’t see her mother or his. Maybe their “audience” was out back with the children, she thought. “Could you get me something to drink?” she said to Dave.

  Instead of doing as she asked, Dave physically turned her toward the kitchen and pointed. “Kitchen’s right through there. You can get it yourself.”

  That wasn’t the point. No wonder he was still unattached, she thought. “You’re supposed to be willing to slay dragons for me,” she told him. “You can’t get a simple can of soda?”

  “I’m saving my strength for the dragons,” he answered. “Besides, I figured you’d be insulted if I usurped your right to choose your own beverage. Trampling on your independence and all that sort of thing,” he elaborated when she looked at him quizzically.

  Did he think she was that neurotic and insecure? “My independence is alive and well, thank you.” Well, they were supposed to be inseparable at this stage in their relationship, she thought. At least, so she’d heard. “Tell you what,” she proposed, taking his hand and lacing her fingers through his, “we’ll both go. I mean, since we’re in the beginning stages of euphoric infatuation. It only stands to reason that we’d want to spend every minute we can together, right?”

  He looked at her, a little stunned. “You really plotted all this out, didn’t you?”

  Kara raised her eyebrows until they disappeared beneath her feathery bangs. “And this surprises you?”

  He thought back to all the elaborate tricks she’d played on him those summers he was forced to endure her company. Now that he reexamined them, a lot of planning must have gone into those tricks. She’d been a mini-Napoleon. Obviously, she still was.

  “No, not really,” he conceded. And then a thought struck him. “This isn’t going to involve one of us getting left at the altar, is it?” Because if it did, he had a sinking feeling it would be him. He saw no reason for him to have to endure any sort of humiliation in this little charade of hers.

  She stopped abruptly and looked at him. She hadn’t thought of that before. “No, but that’s not a bad idea,” she said as she turned it over in her head.

  “Yes, it is,” he contradicted firmly. “A very bad idea.”

  “Okay, I’ll shelve it,” she said agreeably as she resumed walking. “Temporarily.” She sidestepped another couple, flashing an absent smile at them even though she had no idea who they were.

  Dave nodded at the couple. “You’ll shelve it permanently,” he snarled between clenched teeth, “or this stops right here.”

  “Down, boy,” she soothed, placing a calming hand on his chest—which only irritated him further. “We’re not up to the part where we have public tiffs yet.” He made no response but his glare was boring a hole right through her. “Okay, you win,” she surrendered. “No g
etting left at the altar.” Kara cocked her head, giving it one last try. “Not even if it’s me?”

  Dave’s one-word answer came quickly and firmly. “No.”

  She thought that her being the one would have changed everything in his eyes. She was convinced the man would have enjoyed having a front-row seat to her humiliation, especially if it was in public. “Just curious. Why?”

  “Because bailing out at the last minute and leaving you standing alone at the altar just isn’t something I’d do, and everyone knows it.” Because there were people within earshot, he lowered his head and his voice, talking into her ear. “Besides, that would put people in a really awkward position—not to mention there’s also the expense of getting a sitter for the afternoon, buying a wedding gift, maybe buying new clothes for the occasion, all for ultimately no reason.” There was more but he stopped abruptly because she was staring at him in amazement. “What?” he demanded.

  It was a struggle for her to ignore the effect of his warm breath along not just her neck but other parts of her body, as well. Instead, she forced herself to focus on what he’d just said. “I forgot how you could overthink things.”

  “The other side of that is that you under-think them,” he pointed out.

  “There’s no such word,” she pointed out, the wide smile on her lips for everyone else’s benefit so that the people at the party would think they were just indulging in lovers’ talk.

  Dave snorted. “Maybe not, but in your world, there should be.”

  Reaching the kitchen, she crossed to the refrigerator and opened it. The beverages she was interested in—diet soda—were lined up on the bottom shelf. She bent over to look at the various labels.

  “What’s your pleasure?” she asked, turning around various cans and bottles to examine their names.

  Dave watched, almost against his will, as the back of the narrow skirt of her sundress hiked up to a new, mesmerizing height, stopping just at the tops of the back of her thighs and managing to tantalize him.

  You.

  The word flashed through his mind in response to her question, surprising him probably more than it would her had he said it out loud.

  Dave smothered both the word and the feeling as quickly as if it were a sudden spark in a tinder-dry forest.

  Hearing no answer, Kara, still bent over the shelf, looked at him over her shoulder. “Dave?” she prodded.

  “Anything,” he said quickly, looking away as if someone had called to him. “I don’t care.”

  “Okay.” Taking a can of a popular brand of diet cola in each hand, she stood up, turned around and handed one to him. “Anything, it is.”

  The paper cups were on the counter directly behind Dave, and Kara brushed against him as she reached for one for herself. The unexpected jolt of electricity that raced through him had him convinced that this, coming here with her, was a bad idea. Definitely a very bad idea.

  Served him right for listening to her, he upbraided himself.

  As he heard several people enter the room, he saw Kara tense ever so slightly. He didn’t have to turn around to know why, but he did anyway. Just in time to see Kara’s mother crossing to them. Or perhaps it was the refrigerator that was the object of her focus.

  Rather than greet her daughter, the petite woman turned her attention and remarkable blue eyes exclusively on him. The smile on her lips lit up her whole face, and her eyes crinkled as she took his hand and shook it.

  “Dave,” she cried warmly. “It’s so nice to see you again. Your mother’s been telling me all good things about you.”

  He knew how much his mother liked to brag about him. Though he loved her dearly, it made him uncomfortable. Dave shrugged in response. “She likes to exaggerate.”

  “Oh, I doubt that, Dave,” Paulette assured him, still not looking at Kara. “I’ve known your mother a very long time. Exaggeration isn’t in her nature. Why, thank you,” she said as he handed her the can of soda Kara had just given him a moment earlier. Briefly, her eyes shifted toward Kara, then back to him. Popping the top of the can, she picked up a paper cup and filled it halfway before asking, “Who’s your friend?”

  This, Kara knew, was a not-too-veiled comment on the fact that, according to her mother, they didn’t see each other nearly enough. Working overtime at the company meant she had enough time to go to and from work, then crash as she tried to eat a very late dinner. It left no time for visiting.

  “Very funny, Mom.”

  “Mom,” Paulette repeated as if she were tasting the word for flavor and then turning it over in her mind. “I seem to remember knowing someone who used to call me that,” she told Dave. “But for the life of me, I can’t seem to recall who. I just have this vague feeling that I haven’t seen that person in ages.”

  “And you might not,” Kara warned, “if you keep this up. And you—” she turned toward Dave “—stop smirking. It’s only encouraging her, and God knows she doesn’t need any encouragement.”

  Paulette patted Dave’s arm and offered him a very conspiratorial smile. “Her bark has always been worse than her bite, Dave,” she assured him. “Kara might seem rather prickly, but on the inside, she’s really a softie. You just have to be patient. Sometimes it takes longer to surface.”

  He doubted if there was that much patience in the world, but he kept that to himself. Instead, he said dutifully, “Yes, ma’am.”

  Paulette smiled. It was obvious that she was allowing herself a moment to dream. And by her expression, Kara had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly what her mother was dreaming.

  Not in a million years, Mom. Sorry.

  “I always liked you, Dave,” Paulette told him with feeling. She sifted her eyes toward her daughter. The smile cooled a little. “You, I’m not so sure about.” Picking up both the paper cup and the can of soda, her eyes swept over both of them. “Carry on, you two,” she urged as she left the room. “And I mean that from the bottom of my heart.”

  Kara rolled her eyes, refusing to look in Dave’s direction. There had been train wrecks that were subtler than her mother, she thought in dismay.

  Chapter Six

  Despite the carefully mapped-out placement of the balloons and the elaborately decorated patio and family room, which fairly sang of Ryan’s affection for all things Kalico Kid, the party was really a rather informal one. There were a number of adults milling around, either catching up with one another or exchanging the kind of pleasantries that were involved when strangers attempted to become acquaintances. All the voices were raised in varying degrees in order to compete with the joyful din created by approximately ten children, each of whom sounded not unlike a small army of his or her own.

  Consequently, midway through the celebration, Kara found herself the less-than-proud owner of a really raw throat. This was more shouting than she was used to, even though the people she worked with had a tendency to yell across the room to communicate.

  By the time she joined in singing “Happy Birthday” with the others, she felt as if she were literally gargling with sand. Once the off-key rendition of the traditional birthday song was mercifully put out of its misery, Ryan got to make the first cut on his cake. With an eye toward saving all ten of his digits—and the fingers of those close to him—his mother quickly took over. She deftly sliced the cake, which she’d baked in the shape of the aforementioned Kalico Kid.

  “Lucky thing I could get my hands on the game,” Kara commented to Dave’s back. Since he’d somehow managed to get in front of her and stood between her and the cake, she was about to ask him to pass her a slice when he turned around and handed her the paper plate he’d picked up.

  Stunned at his thoughtfulness, she discovered that she’d temporarily lost the ability to speak. Instead, she stared. At the cake, at him.

  Amused, he bent over an
d whispered into her ear, “Took your thunder away, didn’t I?”

  She wished either that he’d stop doing that, or, at the very least, that the sensation of his warm breath gliding along her skin would stop affecting her this way. “Something like that,” she finally murmured.

  He hadn’t moved back yet. His face remained just inches away, and looking into his eyes was doing some very unexpected things to her. Things she was having a great deal of difficulty reconciling with the all-but-glaring fact that this was Davy, someone she’d once found irritating and annoying. Someone she’d enjoyed torturing whenever the opportunity arose—which had been often.

  Unable to hear her because of the noise level, he cocked his head, pretended to cup his ear for her benefit and said, “What?”

  Kara began to repeat her answer, but then, not trusting her voice to remain intact if she allowed herself to utter more than a single word, she finally gave up and merely said, “Yes.”

  Just then, Ryan drew all attention in his direction when, untouched cake plate in hand, he looked up plaintively toward his parents, specifically toward his mother, who, Kara had already assessed, was clearly the reigning disciplinarian of the duo.

  Ryan’s appeal confirmed it the next moment. “Please, Mom?”

  It was obvious that Melissa had wanted to establish a little order within the chaos, or at least generate a small eye within the hurricane that was her son’s birthday party. But it was equally obvious that Ryan had been drooling over his pile of gifts and wanted only to tear into the wrapping paper to unearth the treasures hidden beneath.

  Melissa sighed. Her ultimate decision was never in doubt. “Okay, you can open your presents. But remember to go easy.”

  Kara laughed, shaking her head. “He probably didn’t hear a single word she said after ‘okay.’”

  Kara had half expected Dave not to hear, but the look he gave her as he glanced over his shoulder was almost conspiratorial and showed her that he had and was in agreement.