by Isabel North
Table of Contents
Title
Lost In His Kiss
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
About the author
Artfully Yours
Technically Mine
His Ever After
Contents
Title
Lost In His Kiss
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
About the author
Artfully Yours
Technically Mine
His Ever After
LOST IN HIS KISS
by
Isabel North
LOST IN HIS KISS
(Love, Emerson #4)
Lila Baxter is a goal setter, a go-getter, a woman who takes pride in being the best at what she does, whether that’s being an awesome best friend, or crushing it as the sharpest real estate agent in town. But when Lila realizes that everything is changing around her while she’s staying the same, she decides a fresh start in a new city will be her next great adventure. Then she runs into Griffin Burke, a shy mechanic with a serious cupcake obsession, and all bets are off.
After years of moving around the country, Burke finally has the chance to put down roots. He’s happy with his quiet life in Emerson, until he runs into Lila Baxter and his world is flipped upside down. Lila is loud, fierce, out of his league, and Burke wants her more than his next breath.
With Lila all set to leave town and Burke committed to stay, will they find a way to be together?
Lost in His Kiss is a standalone opposites-attract romantic comedy in the Love, Emerson series.
Copyright © Isabel North 2018
First edition
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, organizations, business and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
CHAPTER ONE
“But it’s pink, sweetheart.”
“I see that, honey.”
Mr. Martinez shook his head at his wife. “I don’t think I can live with pink.”
Lila Baxter managed not to roll her eyes as the young couple went back and forth about the color of the bathroom. They hadn’t liked the blue tiling in the kitchen, the granite countertops were too dark, the newly-painted antique cream walls were too bland, and Monique Martinez had been particularly disappointed with the shining walnut hardwood floor.
She preferred carpets.
They were cozy.
Lila preferred gorgeous hardwood floors. They glowed in the sunshine, they looked amazing by candlelight, and they were great for sliding around on in socks, à la Risky Business, but Lila’s personal opinion didn’t count. She was selling the house. She didn’t have to live in it.
After five more minutes of listening to the Martinezes fuss over the sugar-pink bathroom units and matching shower, carpet, blinds and paintwork—Lila was with them on this one, not a good choice—she decided to nudge them toward wrapping it up. “As I said, these are all things you can change if you decide to buy.”
“I’m still hoping to find somewhere we can move into and get right on with our lives, without having to worry about renovations.” Monique patted her flat stomach. “We’re trying for a family.”
Yep. Lila was aware. Monique had told her a hundred times.
Okay, maybe not a hundred.
But a lot.
“What about you, Lila?” Monique asked.
“I don’t think I could live with the pink either, but I know some great contractors. If you book them for multiple projects, they’ll give you an amazing discount. If this is the place for you, guys, don’t let the pink hold you back.”
“I meant do you have a family?”
“Yes.” Mom and Dad.
“That’s so nice. How old are they?”
Sixty-five and fifty-eight. “Older by the day. It’s terrifying how time flies by. Speaking of—” Lila scooted them out of the bathroom, “—let’s have a quick peek at the master bedroom. I’ve got a feeling it might change your mind.”
She herded the couple across the landing and stepped back, leaving them to explore in privacy. Also, she wanted to check her phone. Lila took her job as a real estate agent very seriously and had a strict rule about not using her cell when with clients, but the thing had buzzed her four times while she was dodging personal questions.
She poked her head around the door of the bedroom to check that the Martinezes were still cooing over the spectacular view from the windows, then gave in and checked her phone.
Four missed calls from Jenny Finley. Lila chewed her lip. The Martinezes had ambled from the bedroom into the en suite, from whence came more billing and cooing. Seizing the opportunity, Lila returned Jenny’s call and stood, tapping her toe, as she was sent to voicemail.
“Tag, you’re it,” she said to Jenny’s voicemail, and hung up.
The Martinezes made all the right noises about the house as Lila showed them out half an hour later, but she already knew they weren’t going to bite. She’d been doing this job for eight years now—wow, eight?—and she could tell when someone wanted a house, and when they were trying to convince themselves they wanted it.
They didn’t want it.
Lila waved them off and made a note to contact Sharon Henderson, the seller, about the pink bathroom. She had to agree with the Martinezes. The bathroom was horrendous.
Sharon Henderson had grudgingly allowed her mother-in-law to move in with her and her husband when the woman lost mobility, and the elderly Mrs. Henderson had redecorated the guest bathroom to suit her own personal tastes.
Lila wasn’t sure if the old woman had done it because she had a thing for Pepto-Bismol, or because she’d been punishing her daughter-in-law for the unenthusiastic welcome.
Whatever the
reason, it was putting buyers off.
While a fair portion of Lila’s clients were either open to or looking for a place to renovate, the majority wanted what Monique Martinez did: to move in on day one, unpack on day two, and by day three, their happily ever after was in full swing. With no contractors, exposed drywall, paint fumes, screeching drills, tarps, or any of the usual fun and games of renovation.
Jenny returned Lila’s call with a text that Lila picked up back at the office. Meet me at Kurt’s for drinks, 7 p.m.?
Lila shot off a promise to be there, and spent the rest of the day on three more viewings, followed by a couple of hours going over contracts and other paperwork before brainstorming some more ideas for the Martinezes.
She arrived at the bar before Jenny, and ordered them margaritas and a plate of wings to share. Lila was sitting in their usual booth when Jenny arrived twenty minutes late and slid in across from her.
“Hi,” Lila said.
“Mmph.” Jenny barely spared Lila a look before she began stuffing her face with her share of the wings. Jenny chewed, swallowed her mouthful, and pointed at the plate. “Is it me, or has Kurt changed his recipe? These are delicious. I swear I can taste every individual spice. My taste buds are having a party. A disco party.”
Kurt did great wings, but so far as Lila could tell, they were just the usual great.
“I am so freaking hungry,” Jenny continued. “I ate dinner with Kate and Derek already, but I could go for another serving of these.” Kate, her six-year-old daughter—and Lila’s goddaughter—and Derek Tate, Jenny’s fiancé.
Lila stared at her. “Tell me you’re not trying to diet.”
“I said I want more. How is that dieting?”
“It’s not dieting. It’s a warning sign that you are attempting it. Every time you try to diet, you eat everything in sight. You don’t need to lose weight, and if you say anything about fitting into a wedding dress, I don’t care that we’re in public, I will slap you. Right here.”
Jenny sat up straight and skimmed a hand over her stomach. “I promise I’m not dieting. Why? I don’t look like I’ve lost any weight, do I?”
She sounded anxious at the thought. “Nope. But you’re eating those wings like you think someone’s going to fight you for them any second. Won’t be me, in case you’re worried. I know better than to get between you and food.”
“I’m just hungry.”
“All that fresh air and hearty labor, no doubt.” Jenny was a garden designer and had her own landscaping business.
Jenny made a noise of agreement as she wolfed down the last of the wings.
Lila pushed back from the table and made a show of looking at her watch. “I think that’s a record. You are definitely ready to go pro. I’m entering you in the pie-eating contest this summer. You want another plate?”
“No, thanks. That should hold me till I get home.” Jenny clenched a fist and pressed it to her chest, gave it a couple of light thumps.
Lila tutted. “Heartburn? Maybe we’re not ready for the big leagues yet. Acid reflux is nothing to mess about with.”
“You’re telling me.” Jenny bypassed the margarita glass, picked up the water glass beside it instead, and raised it high. “Now. The reason I wanted to meet. Raise your glass.”
Lila did, and Jenny made her toast.
Lila had the drink halfway to her mouth before the words registered. She slammed the glass down. “Say what?”
Jenny arched a brow and repeated her toast.
Glaring, Lila snatched up her drink and tossed it back. Then she leaned across the table and said, “I cannot believe you did that to me. What kind of friend are you?”
“Your best friend, last I checked.” Jenny calmly sipped her water.
“You might want to check again.”
Jenny grinned.
“Seriously,” Lila said. “Check again. I’m no genius, but I am almost sure that best friends don’t run off and get married without telling their best friends.”
“I didn’t run. It was a leisurely stroll into the church. Three miles an hour, max.”
“On a random Tuesday lunchtime. In your cargo pants and work boots.” Lila sat back. “I’ll bet you still had mud on your boots. You did, didn’t you?”
“Probably. I wasn’t exactly looking at my boots.”
No. Jenny Finley only had eyes for Derek Tate.
Make that Jenny Tate.
“What happened to getting married in the summer?” Lila said.
“Eh. I didn’t see any point in waiting. Besides, this isn’t my first rodeo.”
Jenny had married Dean Hansen, Kate’s father, at twenty-two, and divorced him a couple of years ago. Recently she’d gotten engaged to Derek Tate, the pastor’s son and a tattooed, motorcycle-riding garage-owning sweetheart.
“I have a binder at home, filled with plans for your bachelorette party and your wedding, and your wedding reception,” Lila said mournfully. “What am I supposed to do with that?”
“I’m not going to feel bad about the bachelorette party, because I said from the start, hell no. As for the rest, I’m sorry.”
Lila knew Jenny better than to believe that. She snorted. “I don’t think you are.”
Jenny pursed her lips. “I’m sorry that I’m not sorry?”
“That I believe.” Lila heaved a sigh. “It was going to be epic.”
“Did you plan on making us dance down the aisle?”
Lila gave her a withering look. “That is so five years ago. And I promised to keep it classy.”
“Joking aside, Lila, I am sorry.”
Lila shrugged. “Ah, well. Not like I haven’t been your maid of honor once already.”
“That’s the point,” Jenny said. She picked up her margarita, stared at it, then put it back down without taking a sip. “I’ve done the whole thing already. Stood up in front of everyone I’ve ever met in a big white dress, the likes of which I had never and will never wear again. I wasn’t into it at the time, but I went along with it because that’s what I was expected to do, and when you’re twenty-two it’s hard not to let other people’s expectations push you around. But I’m thirty. I’m tougher than I was back then. I realized I didn’t want to marry Derek, I wanted to be married to him. To have a marriage with him. So I thought, what the hell am I waiting for, anyway?”
“So you just did it.”
“Yep.”
Lila waved a hand. “Just swung by Derek’s garage, told him you’d called his Dad to meet you at the church to perform the ceremony and, boom. Job done.”
“Pretty tidy, huh?”
“If by tidy you mean boring. Where’s the drama? Where’s the thrill? Where’s the fun?”
Jenny smiled dreamily.
“Ugh,” Lila said before Jenny could speak. “Don’t even.” She fiddled with the empty plate of wings, turning it first one way then the other. “Was Elle there?”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask me that.”
“I asked. I’ll ask again. Was she there?”
If Jenny said yes, Lila told herself, then she wouldn’t be hurt. From when Jenny’s mom left them when Jenny was six until she turned eighteen, Elle had raised her. Lila would be cool with it if she’d been sidelined while Elle got to go to the secret wedding.
If she hadn’t made the cut.
If she’d been relegated to second string.
Lila sighed. Who was she trying to fool?
If Elle had been there and Lila hadn’t, she’d flip a table.
She’d feel bad about it after, but seriously? It wasn’t like Jenny had eloped to Vegas. Lila wouldn’t expect to go along on an elopement. But Jenny had been getting married right when Lila was showing the Martinezes around the Henderson house. A twenty-minute drive away.
“No, Elle wasn’t there.” Jenny said, sounding annoyed. “Neither was Kate. Come on, Lila. You know how important you are to me. In fact, here. I brought this. So you’re part of the ceremony.”
Lila con
templated the fistful of weeds Jenny had dug out of her messenger bag and was now waving at her.
“Catch,” Jenny said, and tossed her the weeds.
Lila lurched back to avoid getting hit in the face, and snatched them out of the air.
Jenny cackled. “It’s my bouquet,” she said. “Gotcha.”
“You evil witch.”
Lila’s loathing for the bouquet toss was legendary. As far as she was concerned, it was a slightly more adult version of spin the bottle. At Jenny’s wedding to Dean, a lifetime ago, Jenny had aimed her bouquet at Lila’s departing back like a javelin, but had failed to hit her target.
Lila smoothed the jumbled bouquet out and gazed down at it. “Derek couldn’t spring for roses? What are these?”
“Wildflowers.”
“Weeds? Yes, I am neither a florist nor a certified horticulturalist but even I can tell that—”
“Wildflowers, not weeds. He picked them from my garden.”
“How incredibly…cheap.”
“It’s romantic! We’d just finished—” Jenny broke off. “Never mind.”
“It’s April, Jenny. You were having sex outside in April?”
“Technically, no. Anyway, the bouquet is romantic and personal and meaningful.”
“I shall treasure these magnificent weeds until the end of time.”
Jenny traced a pattern on the table. “I have other news.”
“Going to be hard to top ‘Hey, surprise, I’m married, go ahead and chuck your wedding binder into the trash’, but hit me.”
“Hey, surprise, I’m pregnant, go ahead and prepare yourself to be a godmother again!”
Lila sucked in a breath. Jenny, recognizing the signs, reached over the table and slapped a hand over her mouth. Lila batted it away.
“Don’t yell,” Jenny said.
Lila threw both arms up in the air and whispered, “Yay!”
Jenny mirrored Lila’s gesture.
Lila slid out from her side of the booth, and ran around to hug her friend. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Prove it by not strangling me,” Jenny managed to choke out.
Lila gave her a noogie before sliding back into her seat.