Kiss Me Again

by Kristi Rose

  His phone chimed. A glance at the screen showed his father calling, so Buck ignored the call. Instantly a text from his brother showed up.

  Where R U?

  Buck looked around the busy strip mall and randomly picked a spot.

  Beef O'Brady's. Having a beer. Celebrating, he answered.

  On my way was Cal's reply.

  Buck groaned. Now he was stuck actually going to have a beer with his brother when he should be heading home to lower the boom on his wife.

  Of course, one beer wouldn't hurt anything, and it would give him time to figure out how he was going to tell Andee that he was changing the game.

  He pulled out of the empty lot and gave it one last look. It was a blank slate that he could do something with. A dream he was finally coming to terms with. But this foundationless piece of earth had the potential to bring down everything he held dear. Normally, changes weren't a concern for him and his wife because they were usually in sync with each other. Both determined and driven by opportunity and goals, they made a formidable team. Unexpected change like he was planning was going to no doubt disrupt their lives. More importantly, it was going to push Andee out of her comfort zone and into a space where he knew she'd sworn she'd never live. Together, they'd spent years cultivating their path and now he'd be asking her--pushing her actually--onto a new, less organized and possible extremely unstable path. A path with potential financial disaster and incredible stress lining the way. Marriages were destroyed on less. But for Buck, the time to begin his entrepreneurial venture was now. As he saw it, staying with his dad carried just as much risk. It would break him, and how long could she stay with a broken man?

  The drive across the to Beef's took no time and he was seated at the bar with a beer in one hand and an order of wings arriving at any minute when his brother slid onto the stool next to him.

  "Dude, dad's been trying to call you. What number is that?" Cal nodded toward Buck's beer before waving for the bartender to come over.

  "It's my first, and I don't care that he's been trying to call me. It's bullshit, Cal, to fire someone and then call them up and yell some more, because you know that's what he wants to do." Buck held the beer with one hand and picked at the label with the other.

  The bartender placed the platter of wings before Buck, who pushed the plate halfway between himself and his brother.

  "It feels like we're breaking the law having a beer midafternoon on a work day," Cal said.

  "You going back today?"

  "Nah, I told him I'd talk you off the ledge."

  Buck snorted with disbelief. "What ledge? Man, I feel free. I feel alive." He raised his bottle. "To kissing that toxic job and the asshole we call dad good-bye."

  "Don't be like that."

  "Why do you stay?" Buck asked, turning to face his brother.

  Cal took a long pull from his beer before answering. "I tried to leave once. A few years ago. But the offers were lower and the upward mobility sucked. Michelle was pregnant with Colby . . ."

  "So you stuck it out." Buck shook his head in disbelief. Man, they were a dysfunctional group.

  "Back then I had two kids and one on the way. I didn't have much choice, and I still don't." His brother wouldn't look at him.

  "That's why he owns you, Cal."

  "What do you want me to do? Let my family go without the things they like? No more trips to Disney because Dad can't ignore his own father. One day he'll be out and we'll be in charge."

  "You'll be in charge. I'm out. If I had kids, I'd have left long ago. There's no way I'd come home feeling this angry all the time. It's bad enough Andee has to deal with it, but kids? No way. You know, over the last year, we've been shorter with each other. Fighting."

  Cal clasped him on the back. "That's marriage, bro."

  Buck shook his head. "Not my marriage. I don't want to do anything. Not even hunt. I dread family dinners on Wednesdays. It puts me in a foul mood for the rest of the week. That's no way to live."

  Cal shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you."

  "I'm sorry you're going to be stuck with him on your own." Part of Buck hated that his brother would be on his own but a greater part was stoked to finally be free.

  "You're really not going back?" Cal's pushed his beer away and stared at his him. "Even though it's your weekend to cover the store?"

  Buck shook his head. "I'm sorry but no. I'm not going back."

  "Man, he's gonna be pissed," Cal said before finishing his beer.

  "Hey, brothers Swift. Mind if I join you?" Jared Calhoun sat on the stool next to Buck.

  "Jared." They shook hands. "What brings you out to Beef's on this fine Friday afternoon?"

  "Had a taste for some wings." Jared leaned back to rest his hand on his upper thigh and turned his attention to Buck. "I think our girls are out shopping together."

  Buck grinned. "You and Melinda dating?"

  Jared nodded, a wide smile consuming his face.

  "It's about time," Cal said. He and Jared had graduated high school together and had run in similar crowds.

  "Beer for my friend here," called Buck to the bartender while holding up his own.

  "Guess some things just need time to percolate." Jared leaned across Buck and snagged a wing.

  "And a fire to accelerate it," Cal added, referring to the house fire Melinda had experienced a week ago. Jared's construction company was handing the cleanup.

  The bartender set out three beers.

  "To the future," Buck toasted and the three raised their beers.

  "I'll drink to that," slurred a man behind them. Sitting at a two-top table was Kevin Norman, another graduate from their high school, but from Buck's year.

  "What's your deal, Kev?" Jared asked.

  "I'm a free man, boys."

  "You quit your job, too?" Buck asked.

  "Nah." Kevin leaned back in his chair and raised his bottle. "I'm getting divorced. No more nagging wife. No more requests to pick up milk or bread. Just me and my freedom and the hot young thing I'm dating. She doesn't even know what the Disney Channels is." Kevin toasted himself and took a swig.

  "Don't be so sure. You said she was young, right? She probably grew up with Hannah Montana," said Cal, who would know as he'd often complained that his oldest made him watch every episode.

  "That'll make her good at twerking." said Kevin with a hooded wink. "Know what I mean?" He winked again and swayed. "It's great, fellas. Freedom."

  Jared laughed. "Yeah, it tastes good now. Let's see what you say when you see Lisa out on a date."

  Kevin scoffed and sat back so quickly he swayed in his seat. "Ha, she'll never date. She's too busy with the kids. They're her world." He said the last bit in what Buck assumed was a poor imitation of Lisa.

  "Until it's your weekend to keep them and suddenly she's got forty-eight hours to herself. Lisa's a looker. She's got that take-care-of-you, make-you-feel-good vibe about her." Jared fanned the flame. "She won't last long on the market."

  Kevin jumped up, bumping the table, which spilled the beer he'd set down only moments earlier all over his pants. "You shut up, Jared Calhoun. Keep your hands off my wife."

  "Your ex-wife," Jared said as he stood. He was at least three inches taller than Kevin, and while Kevin's football muscles had gone soft from years behind a computer, Jared's had grown from years of owning a construction company and working outside.

  Kevin pointed a shaky finger at Jared before he scuttled off to the restroom.

  With a laugh, Jared sat back on the stool. He held up his beer. "Here's to never being as shortsighted as that moron."

  Buck surely hoped his hesitancy to change his comfortable life wouldn't change the way Andee saw him. That it wouldn't leave her with doubts as to how much he valued her or their relationship. Even if the last year had been rough. He needed to pull his head out of his ass and simply tell her what was on his mind, and he'd do that right after he had another beer.
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br />   CHAPTER THREE

  Andee was good at several things. She was punctual, great with numbers, brilliant with organization, cheerful in the morning as well as late at night, could hold her drink, knew how to hook up a winch to a stuck truck, and was a loyal friend.

  What she was not good at was waiting. Well, she was OK at waiting for most things like standing in line, watching her garden grow, and listening with endless patience to a long, drawn-out story. Where she really sucked at waiting was when there was a grand prize at the end of the wait. Like when her sister was going into labor, which she seemed to do every couple of years. That kind of waiting was hard.

  Much like the waiting she was doing right now.

  She ran her hands down the side of her shirt, feeling the way the new outfit highlighted her curves, and suppressed a giggle. It had been over six years since she'd had a shopping spree, and even then it had been to look for clothes that would work with the diner she and Lorelei were opening. This trip was all about wooing her man.

  She pushed aside the curtain and strained to see if she could make out Buck's headlights coming up the drive, but all she saw was darkness. Pitch black nothing.

  Seven days since their failed attempt to spice it up. One week and they'd had sex once. Well, she supposed she should give them credit. They had changed it up by doing it on the couch. That's what happened when people drank too many cocktails and watched a show about people having sex. But sex on the couch was much like sex in bed, with the exception that the space was smaller and the cuddling didn't last as long, due to the fact that it was virtually impossible to stay in a sandwiched position and actually breathe in nurturing amounts of oxygen.

  It had been a stroke of genius to enlist the help of Melinda Bane, sexpot extraordinaire, to help her create a new look. The woman was gifted when it came to fitting clothes to body shapes and, let's be honest, with attracting men. If Andee could bottle just an ounce of Melinda's confidence or even her best friend, Lorelei's, she'd likely not be in this mess. She'd have nipped it in the bud early on.

  But she hadn't, and now it was damage control time. Buck was going to walk in and find a new woman. A hot woman. His hot woman. Melinda had seen to that. His mouth was going to hit the floor and all thoughts of anything outside of her would evaporate from his brain. At least, she hoped he'd have a strong reaction. She needed him to have some reaction, or else her greatest fear, that Bucky was no longer attracted to her, would be actualized, and her father's over-simplification of human proclivities would apply--on some level--to everyone. Specifically to the person who meant the most to her.

  She glanced at her watch; he should be home any minute. When he ran late, he always sent a text, at the very least, and there was no text waiting on her phone. An earlier text had said he'd had a crappy day at work and was stopping by the local sports bar for some wings and a few beers.

  How would he react when he saw her? What would he think?

  Andee walked away from the window, refusing to look in the mirror she passed, and into the kitchen to pour a glass of iced tea. What if she'd gone overboard? What if her new look was more what Melinda preferred and less what Buck did?

  Not willing to muss her artfully applied, shiny pink lipstick, she decided to use a straw, which gave her an idea. If by some chance he didn't like her new look, and she could keep from falling apart, she could at least use the confidence it gave her. She spent the next three minutes practicing how to suck from the straw in a suggestive way, hoping Buck wouldn't be too dense to pick up on her hints. For the next few minutes, she tried out several poses, hoping to find one that look natural yet showed off her cleavage, but then she got distracted by the thick locks of her newly straightened hair She liked the way it fell around her shoulders all slick and glossy, a drastic change from her usual bouncy curls. She felt styled instead of windblown.

  This must be what glamorous felt like.

  Andee caught a glimpse of her silhouette from a shadow on the wall. Melinda had been right--she'd been in serious need of a proper bra, and the change in figure was remarkable. Her small waist, once lost in the oversized shirts she wore to accommodate her substantial chest, was now accented. Also, though her boobs were large, they didn't look overly huge--like Dolly Parton's--in her new fitted bra. They looked . . . good. She looked good. She looked curvy and fit and felt seductive and much like she imagined a temptress would feel.

  If this was how Melinda felt every day then it was no wonder she attracted men like bees to honey. This feeling was heady, powerful, and addictive.

  The flash of headlights pulled Andee from her thoughts and pushed her into motion.

  Buck was home.

  Nervous flutters filled her, and she pressed her hand to her stomach to settle them, but was unsuccessful. As if the flutters were transferred, Andee's hands began to shake as well. Having never settled on a pose, she quickly pressed her body up against the counter and then, for good measure, put the straw in her mouth.

  She felt like an idiot.

  Damn it! Why hadn't she researched ways to present herself? Her mind could only think of stupid poses she'd seen in magazines and posters. She quickly discarded them all, mainly because she didn't have a fainting chaise on which to recreate most of the poses she pictured and didn't want to be on the couch as that was what he would be expecting.

  Giving up, she huffed, spit out the straw, and decided to greet him at the door. But halfway there, she changed her mind and turned to sit. Before she could lower herself into the overstuffed wingback, she changed her mind again, instead walking quickly to the kitchen, where she snatched up the mail and started sorting through it.

  Buck came into the house with a bang, by both shoving open the door and slamming it shut right after. He stumbled before straightening back up and shuffling to her.

  "Hey, babe," he slurred then attempted to kiss her cheek but missed and caught her jawline instead.

  "Are you drunk?" The answer was obvious.

  "I had a helluva day." He tossed his ball cap at the bar stool next to their island, missed, shrugged then stumbled the ten feet to his favorite recliner, where he fell, slumped into it, and then extended it out to the fullest.

  "You had a bad day before or after you started drinking? Did you drive home?" Andee tossed the mail on the counter and picked up the ball cap. She placed it on the island's counter. A tight coil of disappointment mixed with apprehension had replaced her nervous butterflies.

  So much for wowing his pants off.

  "Nah, Cal drove me home. He followed me to the bar. Suck up." Buck rubbed his hands over his face, which made the last part come out muffled.

  "What happened?" She sat on the arm of the couch and faced him.

  "I got fired. My old man is a piece of work. You know that?"

  Andee sighed. This was not the first time Buck's father had fired him. Usually they would disagree on a sales strategy. Conflicting opinions would lead to angry words and raised voices. Cal, Buck's brother and the quintessential yes man, would always take their dad's side, which inevitably inflated her father-in-law's ego to the point where he'd fire Buck. Usually by the end of the day, he'd call, demand an apology, and tell Buck to report back to work the following day. Who knew people could get so heated over tires and how to sell them?

  "What happened this time?"

  Buck's eyes were closed, but he raised his brows. "Cal told him we were looking into buying a vacation home. That we're a month out from beginning our search."

  "And he fired you for that?" Andee leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees.

  "No. He fired me because he wants us to go in on a family vacation home. Something in Montana or somewhere where the guys can hunt." He opened his eyes and shifted in the chair to lift his hip up to pull folded papers out of his pocket. He handed them to her.

  Red flashes of warning went off in Andee's head. Their vacation home and hunting were two things she'd been dead set against combinin
g There was no point going away with Buck if all he was going to do was hunt. For Andee, relaxing with a man who'd spent long hours in the brush, smelled like animal urine, and didn't shower, was not the image of vacation she had in mind. It certainly wasn't a way to steam up their sex life, either.

  After unfolding the papers, she eyed the printouts. "What in the name of all that is good and holy is this?" She held up a picture of a cabin. Well, the word cabin was being generous. Maybe lean-to was more appropriate. "Or this?" Another shanty. "A vacation home in Idaho, Montana, or Wyoming? Are their deer really that much different?" She shuffled through the pages. Before her brain further exploded into a thousand bright and angry pieces, Andee wanted to make sure she had all the facts.

  "Dad wants to hunt bigger game. Elk, moose, maybe even bear."

  "What happened to the whole 'eat what you hunt' philosophy? When did your family start eating bears?"

  "I dunno, Andee. It's stupid, and I said so. I told him no. That you wouldn't be interested in a cabin--"

  "Are you interested in a cabin instead of a vacation home?" She stood up, flinging the papers onto the couch.

  "What I'm interested in has no bearing in this conversation." He squinted at her before breaking into a laugh. "No pun intended."

  "What the hell does that mean?" Andee planted her hands on her hips.

  Suddenly, Buck looked at her. His eyes narrowed, or tried to, as much as they could in his current state. "What's different about you? Did you get stuck in the rain? Your hair looks like you just got out of the shower but . . . not." Buck hiccupped and tried to sit further back in the recliner. As if distance would help his vision and perception.

  "No. I did not get stuck in the rain. I straightened my hair and had it colored. Look, no more gray." She leaned over him to show him her roots, the touch of gray hidden beneath streaks of chestnut and caramel.

  "I can't see past your boobs." He leered. "The twins look good. But I'm not crazy about your hair like that. I like it all fluffy, like a big ball of out-of-control yarn. That's your hair. It's glorious."