My Kinda Kisses

by Lacey Black

  When the closing credits start to roll, Abby and I each help Payton pick up her apartment and wash the dishes. We work in unison, as if we’ve each done this a thousand times before. And, truthfully, we have. We’re a close bunch, spending a lot of our free time together.

  I wonder how much free time I’ll have now that I’m dating (albeit taking everything very slowly) Ryan?

  That thought accompanies me on my drive home. It’s what I think about as I get ready for bed. And it’s definitely the first thing on my mind when I check my phone and find a text message from the man in question.

  Ryan: Hope you had fun with your sisters. Thinking about u. Call u tomorrow.

  I smile at my phone, unable to stop it. He sent that message thirty minutes ago. Even though it’s barely ten o’clock, I still type out a reply.

  Me: It was fun. Thinking of you too. Night.

  My phone isn’t even down on my nightstand when it chimes.

  Ryan: Thinking of me how? Am I naked in your thoughts?

  Well he wasn’t, but he is now. Before I can reply, my phone chimes again.

  Ryan: ‘Cause I’ll b honest, you’re naked in my thoughts right now.

  I decide to take a walk on the flirty side.

  Me: Naked in your thoughts AND naked in bed. Coincidence.

  Ryan: You’re naked? Now? Show me.

  And because I can’t help it, I snap a quick picture of my bare knee and hit send. Within ten seconds, I have a reply.

  Ryan: Not funny. Though your knee is hot, I thought I’d get a glimpse at something a little higher up on your body.

  Me: Like this? I ask as I attach a picture of my shoulder.

  Ryan: Your shoulder is fucking hot. It makes me want to run my tongue along your collarbone and watch goosebumps appear on your delicious skin.

  And just like that, the temperature rose about fifty degrees in the room.

  Ryan: I think you should show me your shoulder tomorrow night. 6pm. I’ll pick you up for dinner. Pack a bag but only for clothes the next day. And make sure you tell your fam where you’re gonna b. Don’t want National Guard showing up. ;)

  My fingers tremble slightly as they hover over my phone. I’m a fraction of a second away from saying screw it and inviting him over now. Images of Ryan licking my shoulder, then blazing a trail southbound, flitter through my forethoughts. It’s enough to make me wiggle a bit in bed, trying to relieve the sudden pressure between my legs.

  Ryan: Is that a yes?

  Me: That’s a yes.

  Ryan: See you tomorrow, beautiful. Night.

  Me: Good night, Ryan.

  I toss and turn for the better part of an hour, unable to find a comfortable position. Ryan’s delicious mouth chases my thoughts and wreaks havoc on my lady parts. He’s the ultimate temptation, and it’s proving quickly that I’m unable to resist him. Finally, I relax enough to fall asleep.

  And dream of Ryan.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ryan

  Occasionally, we have to work a Saturday. With Orlando out for the unforeseen future, I’ve been filling in more as needed at the job site. Sure, I could hire another guy to fill the vacancy, especially with the Hazelton job on the brink of breaking ground, but it doesn’t feel right. Not to Orlando and not to the poor guy who’d probably be gone as soon as he returned.

  The problem with filling in is that I’m left with barely any time for the office side of the business. I’d prefer swinging a hammer or running a table saw to signing papers and talking to suppliers on the phone all day, but if I neglect the office side, I find myself up shit creek without a paddle.

  Mary helps. Mary helps a lot. Shit, there are days I wonder if I’d even have a business left if not for her. This week has been one of those times. Without Orlando, I’m onsite all day long, which is why I worked at the office until almost ten last night. Mary left me several piles of paperwork to sign. Contracts, bids, purchase orders, supplier and material lists, it was all waiting for me on my desk. Five hours it took me to comb through all the things I’d neglected during the week. Five hours of busy work that helped kill time until I could text Jaime.

  She had a pizza night with a few of her sisters last night. That’s one of the things I admire about her. She’s super close to her family. Even though I have three siblings of my own, we’ve all drifted in our adult lives. I talk to my mom on the phone at least once a week, and receive texts or phone calls from my siblings when they can be squeezed in, but nowhere near the steady communication that the Summer family has.

  I’m actually a bit envious. They’re close. Sometimes, a little too close, but that’s not always a bad thing. As long as they know where to draw the line between personal and complete invasion of privacy. So far I haven’t seen anything to get worried about. Unless we’re talking about Emma. Something tells me that woman doesn’t know the meaning of privacy.

  And what is up with Grandpa Orval? I haven’t had someone offer me protection this much since I was sixteen and getting ready to take Kim Kohlson to the homecoming dance.

  I can’t help but chuckle as I load up the job trailer with the job tools. One of my first purchases for the business was a large enclosed trailer, which works perfectly to haul tools and equipment from one job site to another. It’s a beautiful, sunny mid-June afternoon, and it looks like the rest of the weekend should be much of the same.

  I’ve had little time to plan my date for tonight with Jaime. When she replied to my text last night accepting my invitation, I was giddy with excitement. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if I tried, and it took me a while to fall asleep. I was excited to see her again, and even more excited at the prospect of her joining me in bed. It was a long, uncomfortable night to say the least.

  After securing the trailer and waving goodbye to my guys, I jump in my truck and head for home. I’ve got just enough time to take a shower before I head over to her house. Plans for this evening will have to be made on the fly, but that’s all right. As long as she’s by my side, I don’t give a shit what we do. Hell, maybe I’ll take her to see the new chick flick at the cinema uptown. Women love that stuff, right?

  First thing I notice when I pull into my half of the driveway is Mrs. Hanson out front, squatting on the ground and pulling weeds in the flower garden. How a woman who’s eighty still gets up and down so agilely as she does is beyond me. There are days where my bones creek and pop just getting out of bed. My muscles scream in protest as I bend over to lace my boots. In my line of work, I’m hard on my body, and more often than not, I feel all of her eighty years opposed to my own thirty-two.

  “I’m planning to mow tomorrow,” I tell her as I slip out of my truck and walk around to where our dual doors meet at the garden she’s pruning.

  “That’s fine, child. I’m just taking care of a few pesky weeds.”

  “I could get those for you, you know,” I offer, watching her wrinkled hand wipe at her forehead, leaving behind a smudge of dirt.

  “Tsk tsk, boy. This is my favorite part of the day. Besides, not only are you working more hours, but you have a lady friend to entertain.” She tries to mask her smile, but she fails miserably.

  Why am I not surprised that Mrs. Hanson would know about Jaime. “Dare I ask how you know about my lady friend?” I ask, setting my bag on the porch before dropping down to sit on the step beside her.

  “Besides the fact that you haven’t been very subtle when sniffing around for information about Miss Jaime Summer, I can’t ignore the fact that her entire family showed up here bright and early, looking for her last weekend when she failed to come home Saturday night.”

  My eyebrow raises in question.

  “What? I was on my way to church, and I ran into Orval in the driveway.”

  “Sure. You probably had a glass against the wall.”

  “No need for that, son. These walls aren’t as thick as you’d probably hoped. I was well aware you were entertaining.”

 
Flames shoot up my face and I look down. “Well, that’s embarrassing.”

  “From what I heard, you have nothing to be embarrassed about,” she says, laughter oozing from each word.

  I shake my head and finally glance up, meeting her aged blue eyes. “I like her. A lot.”

  “I can tell. She’s different than the other one.”

  I know exactly who Mrs. Hanson is talking about. When I moved to Jupiter Bay, Sara moved in with me for a short period of time. Of course, spending her entire life here, Mrs. H was well acquainted with the woman I dated. After the relationship ended for good, she finally told me exactly what she thought of Sara Sullivan. I believe her exact words were spoiled, selfish, and gold digging.

  “She’s very different than Sara. I never really saw myself settling down with Sara. I hate to admit, but she was convenient. But Jaime? I see forever, and I don’t even know her. Isn’t that crazy?”

  “Love is crazy, child. The best kind of crazy. It makes you want to dance in the rain and scream from the mountaintops. Love makes you feel like flying, even when you have no wings. But, it’s also terrifying. I promise you that when you find the right love–your true love–there’s nothing else like it in the world. Love is the greatest feeling of all. It’s the ultimate gift.”

  “Who said anything about love?” I ask, giving her a slight smile.

  “I might be eighty, but my eyesight is twenty-twenty. I see it in your eyes when you speak of her. You might not be completely there yet, but it’s coming. I feel it.”

  I find myself staring across the flower garden at my friend. She’s right that I’m nowhere near ready to talk about those kinds of feelings, but I’m also not scared of them. For the first time in my life, I’m not scoffing at the prospect of falling in love the way Jaime is. I feel it deep in my soul. There’s something there–something powerful and infinite. If or when it comes to that, I know I’ll have to tread lightly or risk running her off for good.

  “On that note,” I say as I stand up and stretch. “I have a date with a beautiful woman this evening so I better hit the shower. And you should probably be warned, there could be entertaining later this evening.”

  “I’ll leave my television on when I go to bed.” Her soft chuckles follow me as I walk up the stairs and slip inside to get ready for the evening.

  ***

  I’m probably more nervous tonight than I was two weeks ago when I pulled into this very same driveway. Last time, little did I know that I’d be introduced to some of the craziest grandparents known to man.

  The breeze off the Bay is cool tonight, cloud coverage for as far as the eye can see. My plan is to take her to the small barbeque joint down by the docks, followed by that movie they’ve been promoting heavily on television. It’s the latest Nicholas Sparks book to be turned into a big screen movie, and after my conversation with Jaime last weekend, I think she’d enjoy seeing it.

  Wiping my clammy hands off on my dark jeans, I grab a lightweight jacket from the passenger seat and throw it on over my dark t-shirt. Fortunately, I found a few new shirts in the back of my closet that have never made it to work yet. Once they do, they’re stained up or full of holes even after the first day of wearing them on the job.

  Stepping up on the porch, I knock on the screen door. Orval comes to the door with a wide smile. “Heya, Ryan. Come on in,” he says while holding open the door. “Your girl’s just finishing up upstairs. She’ll be along in a few minutes.”

  “Great.” I shove my hands in my pockets and glance towards the stairwell. Just knowing that she’s up there, getting ready, has my pants suddenly too small. I picture her naked except for some barely-there panties and maybe a lace bra.

  “How ya been?” he asks, pulling my attention away from the walking wet dream upstairs.

  “Good. Staying busy at work with more projects on the horizon. You?”

  “Oh, I’m getting by. This arthritis is acting up in my wrist again,” he says, flexing his wrist a few times. “Damn stuff makes it hard to make a fist.” His demonstration is tight with jerky movements and causes him to grimace.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. My grandma had arthritis in her knees. It made it difficult for her to walk at times.”

  “Can you imagine the wrist? It makes it hard to grip the tiger in your pants.”

  He says it so matter-of-factly that I almost miss his statement. Almost.

  “Excuse me?” I ask, instantly regretting it as soon as the words spill from my lips.

  “Oh yeah. It’s hard to beat the bishop when it flares up. Emma loves to watch, you know.” Then he elbows me in the chest.

  “No. I…can’t…just no,” I stutter, wishing aliens would beam me up to their spaceship or a piece of the ceiling would fall on my head, causing temporary amnesia. Anything to get me out of my current situation.

  “There she is,” Orval sings.

  My attention is pulled back to that staircase as Jaime makes her way towards me. She’s wearing sexy jeans that hug her sweet curves, a pink loose top with see-through sleeves, and black ankle boots that I suddenly wish were wrapped around my neck. Her hair is swept to one side, exposing the long column of her neck. I want to lick every inch, every curve of that enticing section of skin.

  And I won’t stop there. I want to lick everywhere.

  She’s breathtaking every time I see her, and tonight is no exception. Blood zings, my body hums, and a desperate need to take her consumes me. Jaime has quickly become my obsession. She’s my one desire, my greatest treasure.

  Jaime must recognize the heat blazing in my eyes because hers suddenly widen, her breathing shallow. My pants are so damn tight that surely my legs will be numb any moment from lack of blood flow. Right now, every bit of blood my body possesses is in one concentrated location. It’s horribly painful, but I’m unable to adjust myself because I’m trapped by the fierceness in her eyes. She looks like she wants to eat me for dinner and still come back for seconds.

  I’d be all for that. In fact, I vow to make that happen.

  As soon as possible.

  “Looks like someone’s a little excited,” Emma whispers to Orval, yet she’s loud enough that everyone within a two-mile radius probably heard.

  “It’s all right, boy. I still get wood every time my Emmy comes into the room.”

  Jaime makes a sound, which is a cross between a gasp and a choke. I, on the other hand, am stunned silent. The wood I was sporting a few moments ago is shriveling up so tightly that it might never reach its full potential again.

  “Dear God, please make it stop,” Jaime mumbles heavenward as she reaches me. “Ready?”

  Taking her tight grimace as my cue, I reach for her hand and pull her towards the door. Before we breach the threshold, we throw quick goodbyes over our shoulders and escape into the night.

  The tension and humiliation of the scene back at Jaime’s place melts away as soon as I have her inside of my truck. Her scent permeates the cab, sending my blood flowing once more. The smile she offers me is small at first, hesitant almost.

  “I’m sorry about them. God, they’re so embarrassing.”

  “Serves me right for getting hard in their presence. I was pretty much asking to be ridiculed. But I can’t help it. That’s what happens every time I see you, every time I think about you.”

  “Yeah?” she asks, a small smile playing on her lips, a hint of bashfulness coloring her cheeks.

  “Yeah.”

  And because she’s so close, I pull her towards me and meet her in the middle of the truck cab. Her lips are warm and soft, perfect for kissing. My tongue teases the seam of her mouth, eager to slide inside and taste her. It’s been one very long week, and I feel like an addict stealing his first taste of that succulent high his body craves.

  “We should just skip dinner and go straight to desert,” she suggests, nipping at my lips with her teeth.

  In desperate need of applying the brakes before I throw do
wn in the middle of her driveway, I pull back slightly so I can gaze into her lust-filled eyes. Honestly, that doesn’t help. Her eyes are greedy and filled with dirty little promises. I almost give in to the desire to drive straight to my place and forego our dinner plans.

  But I can’t do it.

  This is only our third date. I’m not the type of man who bypasses the date part of the evening and goes straight to the bedroom part. Though, if I were one of those guys, this would definitely be the time.

  No, Jaime deserves to be treated fairly and like a lady. She deserves flowers and dinners and movies. She deserves romance, and I’ll be damned if she isn’t going to get it. The guy before me didn’t appreciate her enough to give her those things, and that pains me.

  Instead of ripping off her clothes, I opt to return to my half of the truck and adjust my very uncomfortable pants. When I glance back over, her face reads of shock and maybe a little disappointment.

  Leaning back over and taking her hand, I say, “I would love nothing more than to take you home and ravish you for hours–days. But I won’t do that yet. I promised you dinner and a movie, and I’m going to deliver. Even if I have to watch Chris Hemsworth on that screen while suffering from the biggest case of blue balls this side of the Atlantic. I’m determined to give you the date you deserve.”

  Her sweet laughter fills my truck. “I think if you manage to stay the course of this date the entire night, well, then you would earn yourself a reward.” Her eyes are infused with mischief and excitement, which does nothing to defuse the situation in my pants.

  “Reward?” I ask, playing along.

  “Mmhmmmmm,” she says, which comes out more like a moan.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Well, let’s just say that I’m wearing something very special for you. If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you unwrap it. Like a present.”

  My eyes remain locked on hers, my body short-circuiting from the picture she painted in my mind. Red? Black? White? Lace? Satin? Silk? Thongs? Boy cut? Commando? The possibilities are endless, and I realize right then and there that I’ve officially met my match. I’m ready to wave the white flag, throw in the towel. I’m completely gone over a pair of gorgeous green eyes and pouty, pink lips.