Roses & Champagne Kisses

by Stacy Eaton

  Of all the places I could go for dinner, of all the tables at which I could sit inside this tavern, fate placed me against this wall and laughed in my face as it taunted me with what I would never have. I wanted to slam my head against the table—or drink myself under it. Either would do—neither was what I really wanted.

  My phone vibrated, and I signed in. Robin had sent me a message to check on me. I replied that I had forgotten I’d made plans to meet someone for dinner at the tavern and told her I’d call her in the morning.

  For most of my meal, I tried to keep my eyes trained on my food. I didn’t want to view all the pictures surrounding me. I sure as hell didn’t want to think about the man in those pictures, the man who would be wearing a tux in three weeks and saying vows to a very annoying, neurotic, and beautiful woman, and I sure as hell didn’t want to think about his thumb having been in my mouth earlier, or that his lips had been so close that I could still feel the heat of his body as it stilled in front of me.

  Nope, I didn’t want to think about it—but I did. I spent another thirty minutes trying not to memorize every single inch of his body from the photographs, but when I closed my eyes, the images glowed perfectly on the backs of my lids. I was screwed like a corkscrew in a cork.

  I ordered a third, and fourth beer, and when I finished those, I seriously considered getting a fifth, if only to give me another reason to remain where it was easy to live in a fantasy and getting even easier with each beer I consumed.

  I knew that I was already over the legal limit to drive, so what was one more beer? I would walk back to my place. It was only a mile, and the exercise would do me good. Maybe it would wear me out so that once I arrived home, I could pass out and not think about Roan Waterman at all.

  “Of all the places to sit.”

  I startled and stared incredulously at my beer bottle. Had I consumed so much that I could now conjure up his voice? Before my buzzed mind could answer that question, the real-life Roan Waterman stepped into view.

  “You just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Robin told me you were here.”

  I growled to myself and withdrew cash from my little purse, slipping it under the edge of the plate so it wouldn’t fly away when I erupted from my seat and took flight.

  As soon as I stood, I felt the full effects of the alcohol hit me, and I weaved, I knew I did. Roan had a hold of my arm in an instant, and for a moment, everything else fell away. There was no tavern, no other customers, or laughter and tinkling of utensils on plates. It was just Roan and I.

  Then he opened his mouth, and everything came back in focus, especially the fact that he was about to get married. “How much have you had to drink?”

  I snatched my arm away. “None of your business.” I brushed past him and wound my way through the tables to the exit. I was suddenly overheated and needed fresh air as I burst out of the tavern.

  I heard the door open again behind me and knew that he was following me into the parking lot. I sure wished like hell he hadn’t.

  I headed toward my car, intent on locking myself inside and ignoring him until he went away. Unfortunately, the minute I reached for my door handle, he grabbed my hand.

  “There is no way I’m letting you drive. You’ve had too much to drink.”

  “What I do, or drink, or think about is none of your damn business, Mr. Waterman.”

  “Yes, it is,” he snapped. “If you get behind the wheel of that car, you’re likely to get in an accident, and the person you hit could be someone I know and care about.”

  “Do you really think I’m that stupid?” I shouted.

  He shouted back, “I don’t know, are you?”

  I spun from him and started stomping toward the street.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home!” I yelled.

  His footsteps crunched in the gravel as he rushed to catch up to me. “Let me give you a ride, Finley.”

  “Oh, hell no—” I slurred and shook my head a little too fast. I must have weaved again because his hand was on my shoulder as if he were trying to steady me.

  “You shouldn’t be walking when you’ve been drinking.”

  I threw my arms out to the side as I squared off against him. “I shouldn’t drive, I shouldn’t walk. What else shouldn’t I do, huh? Should I not go home? Not go to bed? Maybe I shouldn’t be talking to a loser like you.”

  His brows shot up in surprise. “Hey, I’m trying to keep you safe.”

  “I’m quite capable of doing that myself, Mr. High and Mighty.”

  I thought he smirked, but his face was a little blurry. “I’m sure you are, Finley, but let me at least drive you home so you aren’t walking down the road in the dark.”

  “No.”

  “Come on, woman.”

  “I said no!” I resumed my trek to the curb.

  “Fine, then I’ll walk with you.”

  I spun too fast and the world kept turning as my hands went out widely to my sides looking for balance. “I don’t need you to walk with me! Go away! I’ve had enough of you and your seductive eyes, and your six-pack and your, your—and your lies,” I knew that I needed to shut my mouth, but I just couldn’t, “and that gorgeous body. I don’t want any more of you to think, or dream, or fantasize about. Just go away!”

  I paused. Was he laughing? I stalked back to him and poked him in the chest. “Are you laughing at me?”

  He nodded. “Yes, Finley Parker, I am laughing at you.”

  I wanted to smack him, I really did. In fact, I tried, but he caught my wrist easily and instead of pushing it away, he used it to pull me closer.

  “Stop,” I said as an irrational fear blossomed in me that he would pull me into his arms and kiss me. I knew that if he did, it would no longer matter if he was getting married in three weeks, three years, or three hours. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. There was no doubt that I wanted this man—and wanted him bad.

  “I’m driving you home,” he led me by the arm toward a sleek SUV, “and I’m not taking no. I am not going to be responsible if something happens to you.”

  “You aren’t responsible for me,” I said as I dragged my feet.

  Roan turned suddenly and said roughly, “I will throw you over my shoulder and toss you in my vehicle if you won’t walk there on your own.”

  I shivered at the vision of being carried on that broad shoulder and then remembered why that wouldn’t be a good idea. “What would Autumn say about you driving me home?” I asked. “Don’t you think she’d mind?”

  He laughed again. “Autumn wouldn’t care if I drove home an entire squad of drunk strippers.”

  My mouth fell open in disgust, and he put his knuckle under my chin and pushed my lips closed. “Now get in the damn Range Rover.”

  “Oh, a Range Rover, fancy schmancy,” I muttered sarcastically as he opened the door.

  “Get in, Finley.”

  I sighed heavily and realized that he wasn’t going to let it go. I gave him a wide berth as I climbed into the passenger seat, and before he could close the door, I grabbed the handle and yanked it toward me. He shook his head as he walked around the front of his car.

  “You’re a piece of work, you know that?” he said as he got in beside me.

  “Takes one to know one.” I crossed my arms over my chest again and glared out the window.

  “Where am I going?”

  “To hell if you don’t change your ways.”

  For a few seconds all was quiet, and I almost looked at him to see what he was doing, but then he began to laugh as he started the engine. “You really are a piece of work, Finley.”

  I didn’t bother to reply.

  “Where do you live?”

  “Turn right,” I muttered.

  “You know, some girls are fun drunks, you are kind of mean.”

  That got my head turning. “I’ll have you know that I am not drunk, and I am a fun person to be a
round when I am drinking.”

  “You call this fun?”

  For a little while I didn’t speak. I stewed in my own frustration, then I directed him to my house, and he stopped in front of it.

  “I did not ask you to do this, Roan. In fact, I did not want to see you again tonight.”

  He smirked in the darkness; I could feel it radiating from him. “That’s funny since you were seated in my cheering section of the tavern.”

  I reached for the handle. “I did not pick that seat. The hostess put me there.” I shoved open the door and scrambled out as his door opened. I was only a few steps away from his vehicle when he was suddenly blocking my path, and I had to pull myself up short to avoid being face-first into his chest. Oh, man—pictures of his bare chest wavered in my slightly pickled mind.

  “What do you want? I let you drive me home. Now go away.” I waved my hands at him as if he’d been a pesky fly invading my picnic.

  “What do I want?” His voice was exceptionally husky, and I pulled my shoulders back to hide the sudden shiver. “I want to take up where we left off.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him to go to hell, but before the words slipped off my tongue, his lips were crashing into mine.

  My knees buckled, and a strong arm came around my waist to capture me. I didn’t want to kiss him back, but my mouth and tongue were not mine to control. Traitors! That’s what they were as my hands curled into fists at my sides.

  His hand was buried in my hair, cupping my head so I couldn’t pull away—not that I had the energy at that moment to do so. His lips were so soft, his tongue hot, warm, and a teeny bit minty sweet as if he’d had a breath mint recently.

  My body responded while my mind screamed to stop. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but that little bit of time had me coming apart at the seams. I wanted more, I wanted all of this man, and at the same time, I wanted to berate him. He shouldn’t be doing this, he was engaged, and yet, I let it continue. I was as bad as he was.

  When he pulled away, breathing hard, he rested his forehead on mine. It took a second for us to both calm, and once we had, he stared into my eyes, his hands cupping my face.

  “Please don’t do that again,” I whispered. “I can’t allow you to do that again.”

  “Why, Finley?”

  “Why?” Anger sparked to life in me again, and I tried to pull away, but he held me tightly, “I can’t believe you!”

  “Hey, Finley, things aren’t always what they seem.”

  I froze. “What are you talking about?”

  He let go of me as a glint of humor sparkled in his eye. I only saw that because there was a lamppost shining brightly beside us.

  He kissed my forehead and walked away. When he reached the driver’s door, he paused and called out over the hood. “You don’t think very highly of me, do you? Especially if you’d think I’d marry someone like Autumn.”

  Before I could reply, he climbed into his car and drove away, and I remained speechless on the sidewalk staring at his taillights.

  Chapter 6

  Roan

  “Why are you asking questions about Finley?” Chris queried as he passed the bowl of potatoes my way. “Didn’t you get all you needed out of her background check?”

  “You did a background check on her?” Robin jumped into the conversation. “You didn’t tell me that, Chris.”

  I saw the almost imperceptible wince as he turned his attention to his wife. “I didn’t tell you? I thought I had. I’m sorry.”

  “Why would you do a background on one of my employees?”

  “Why shouldn’t he?” I asked Robin. “You should have a background done on all your employees. I’d be happy to do it for you any time, Robin.”

  Her brow furrowed. “While I appreciate that, Roan, I don’t appreciate my husband sneaking behind my back to check out one of my employees.”

  Chris laid his hand over hers. “Sweetheart, I only did it because you hired her on the spot and you didn’t even have an application on her or check any of her references.”

  “I didn’t need to.”

  “Why do you think you didn’t need to check out her background?” I asked her curiously, wondering what had spurred Robin to hire her a minute after they’d met.

  “It was gut instinct. I took one look in her eye, and I felt like I was looking at myself. I felt it and saw the minute she did, too. We’ve both experienced things, things that you wouldn’t understand but we do, and that’s what I saw. I have no doubts that Finley is perfect for my company. In fact, now that I’m going to be laid up, I’m going to give her more to do for the business. I think she would excel at it.”

  “She does have a degree in business,” I told her.

  She seemed surprised. “She does? How do you know that?”

  I grinned. “Because I did her background, remember?”

  Everyone laughed around the table, and Robin seemed to relax a little. “She never said anything about having a degree in business.”

  “There is a lot you don’t know about her, Robin, and that’s why I had her checked out. I knew you liked her, and I didn’t want you to get hurt because she conned you or stole from you,” Chris explained.

  “Finley would not do that,” Robin said adamantly.

  “I agree with Robin,” I tossed in, “I don’t think she’s that kind of person.”

  “What kind of person do you think she is?” she asked me.

  I was tempted to lay it all out right there on the table. Had it just been her and Chris and not the four kids, too, I might have told her that she made me want things I didn’t think I’d ever want again, but how could someone I barely knew bring those feelings out in me? I’d been in her presence once, okay, twice, but it didn’t matter. I could have said this morning when I stepped into the café that there was something special about Finley Parker.

  “I just get the impression that she’s pretty straightforward and honest. Maybe a little shy, a little low on self-esteem, but I think with some help, she could get past that.”

  Robin gave me a confused look. “You think Finley has low self-esteem?”

  I shrugged, “It’s just an impression I get from her. She did great in school, yet she’s not working in business or restaurant management. She keeps her mouth shut when she really wants to say something for fear that she will upset someone.”

  “Huh,” Robin grunted, “I never thought of that, but I get what you’re saying. I guess I have noticed that a few times when I have asked her to take on a task that was out of her comfort zone, and she started to balk at it.”

  “I think if you give her time, she’ll figure it out. She’s smart, she did well in her courses. If you support her, she’ll probably be able to help you a lot with your business.”

  “Thanks, Roan, I appreciate that.” Robin sighed, “I wonder why she took off so quickly tonight.”

  “Why don’t you reach out to her and ask?” I suggested.

  “Matt, can you go get my cellphone? It’s beside the couch.”

  A minute later, she was sending a text, and I wondered how I could possibly ask her where Finley lived. At the time of the background check, Finley had been staying at a bed and breakfast, so she hadn’t had an address.

  Robin smiled after her phone beeped. “She’s at the Cricklewood Cove Tavern having dinner with a friend.” She set her phone down and smiled at me. “Good, she doesn’t get out very often.”

  I had a funny suspicion that Finley had just lied to Robin, not about being at the tavern, but about being with someone. When she’d left here, she hadn’t been in a particularly welcoming mood for company—or had it been just my company that had turned her off?

  Of course, it was more likely that she didn’t want to have anything to do with me because she thought I was getting married. I couldn’t wait to fix that misinformation. Maybe then she’d be willing to get to know me.

  When I pulled up to the tavern, I saw her car parked in the lot. I took a spot near hers and p
aused at the front door. I hadn’t been inside the place since Sherry had died and didn’t know if my pictures were still hanging in the back corner.

  After my eyes adjusted to the lighting, they instinctively went toward the back corner, and I waited for a pain to lance through my chest. Sherry had loved to come here and sit there so she could moon over my younger self. She had said it made her feel good that I belonged with her, even though she knew many a woman fantasized about me.

  I literally froze in place when I saw Finley sitting beneath one of my more famous photographs. The hostess approached me, but I waved her off with a quick word about seeing my party. It wasn’t until I began to step away that she sucked in her breath as if she’d just recognized me.

  I stopped behind Finley and stared around the area. Being here didn’t hurt as much as I’d thought it would. In fact, it was kind of fun to see all these pictures again. I’d have to come back another time when I could talk to the owner and catch up.

  I hadn’t expected her to be drunk, not that she was wasted or anything, but she was obviously above the legal limit to drive. She was also testy, and while I realized she was under the influence, I was losing patience with her myself. Her ire at me was so obvious, but I wasn’t going to explain it all now. I’d sit her down and make sure she understood the dynamics of what was going on with this wedding when she was sober.

  Even as I wanted to iron things out, I did get just a wee bit of satisfaction from seeing her flustered at her attraction to me when she thought I was the soon-to-be groom. That was why I didn’t really want to tell her tonight. I wanted her to dwell on it a little longer.

  What I didn’t want to wait for was a first kiss. All day I’d been thinking about my thumb in her mouth, and I was dying to have my lips against hers in a heated embrace.

  Damn—it did not disappoint.

  In fact, if I thought earlier had woken up my libido, the kiss was like a shot of adrenaline straight to the groin.

  As I left her gobsmacked at the curb, I laughed to myself. It had been years since a mere kiss had turned me on this way. I couldn’t imagine what state of mind I would be in if I indulged in another. Taking one had been enough; two would have been really crossing the line.