About That Kiss: A Heartbreaker Bay Novel

by Jill Shalvis

  “You recognize me? This isn’t even my own hair!”

  “I know. I have that same wig. And with or without the hair, your smile hasn’t changed and neither have your eyes.” He pulled her in for a warm hug, which she returned with a sigh. So much for her disguise. She’d have to get better at that.

  “It’s definitely been too long,” Eric murmured. “Way too long. I tried to contact you so many times after—”

  She closed her eyes and he broke off. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Of course you don’t want to talk about it.”

  He’d always been one of her favorite of all of her grandpa’s apprentices and now she remembered why. She shook her head and hoped that Joe wasn’t picking up on all the things that weren’t being said, but she knew he was far too sharp for that. The fact was, she didn’t want him to know. She didn’t want anyone else to know her shameful truth.

  “I heard you were working for Gib,” Eric said to her. “That’s awesome. He’s doing so great with Reclaimed Woods. I always thought that you two might end up . . .” He gave Joe a quick glance and then lowered his voice. “You know.”

  “I work for Gib,” she said. “That’s it.” There’d always been an unspoken belief amongst everyone at one time or another that she and Gib would end up together. And for the longest time she’d believed it too.

  Gib was a good guy. But deep down she could admit that she’d always known he wasn’t the right guy. She realized now that there was a huge difference between teenage love and grown-up love. In the past, she’d never really let herself think about being happy and in love. But sometimes in the deep dark of the night, she’d dreamed of what type of man she secretly wanted, and she always thought it’d be someone like Gib—kind, caring, gentle in spirit.

  But lately she’d realized something. He was actually the complete opposite of what she needed, and that realization had absolutely nothing to do with her annoying attraction to Joe and everything to do with her own secret craving for love and acceptance.

  Except . . . maybe it had a little to do with her attraction to Joe. Over the past week, he’d been there for her without question. In fact, he’d stepped up in a way no one else ever had. Whatever the two of them had going on, friends or maybe more or maybe far less, the fact remained that in a very short time, she’d come to trust him more than she’d thought herself capable of.

  And there was more. In addition to the trust and the fact that she ached for his body, he allowed her to be her. Even when she was crazy, wearing a blond wig, insisting he learn how to carve.

  And because of all of that, she couldn’t seem to help herself. She wanted more.

  A lot more.

  “What are you doing out here in the back?” Eric asked. “I didn’t see you inside. I would’ve loved to introduce you to everyone.”

  “We weren’t inside,” Kylie said. “We didn’t have an invite—”

  “Oh my God. Darlin’, why didn’t you get in contact with me?” Eric asked, horrified. “I’d have had you as a guest of honor!” He gave Joe another sideways glance. “And this tall, cool drink of water could have come with.”

  “His name is Joe. He’s . . .” She met Joe’s eyes and saw a flash of humor . She had no idea how to describe him and he knew it. “. . . Helping me. I’ve had a few—”

  “Very excited to meet you,” Joe interrupted her and pulled a small pad of paper and a pen from one of his pockets, leaving her wanting to go through his pockets sometime to see what she might find . . .

  She came back from her brief and very naughty fantasy to hear Joe ask Eric for his autograph.

  Eric fluttered in excitement. “Seriously? Oh wow. Sure thing, sugar, I’ll give you my autograph. I’ll give you whatever you want.” He grinned and signed the pad with a flourish.

  Joe looked at the signature and then at Kylie.

  Her penguin thief wasn’t Eric. “I have something to show you,” she said and pulled out the Polaroid she’d gotten, the one with the table and bench. “I thought maybe this was your work?”

  Eric looked down at the table with a frown. “That looks like your grandpa’s, darlin’.” The frown deepened when he took in the bench next. “But that isn’t his, and it sure as hell isn’t mine either. I don’t do sloppy edges like that.” He shuddered. “And I’d never have picked that color stain. What am I looking at?”

  “An imposter. I’m trying to find the woodworker who made the bench.”

  “Huh,” Eric said and looked closer at the photo.

  “What?” Joe asked him.

  “Well, I’m not sure but something in the workmanship reminds me of another woodworker I know.”

  “Who?” Joe asked.

  “A couple of years back, some guy came by trying to sell a bench. It was supposedly done in the style of your grandpa. But it wasn’t even close.”

  “What did you do?” Joe asked.

  “I sent him on his way, but I did take his card.” He flashed a smile. “I take everyone’s card.”

  “I’d like to see it,” Joe said.

  Eric snorted. “That could take a while. Like I said, I take everyone’s card and I never throw anything away.”

  “But you do still have it somewhere, right?” Kylie asked. “We really need to talk to him.”

  “Yes, I still have it, certainly. It might be tricky for me to get my fingers on it, but I will.” He looked at Joe. “In the meantime, Kylie knows how to get ahold of me, handsome. Don’t be a stranger.” He winked at Kylie. “And you either! Let’s lunch?”

  “Absolutely,” she said, and started to say more, but Joe grabbed her by the hand.

  “We’ve gotta go,” he said. “Have a good night.”

  “But—” But nothing because Joe had her in the truck and down the street before she could blink. “What was that?”

  He tossed the pad of paper into her lap and kept driving. “Things to do.”

  “Was what we just learned enough to knock Eric off the list?”

  “That, and the fact that he sold out tonight making furniture that isn’t in your grandpa’s style. Plus he’s driving a Tesla Roadster.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “It’s an expensive car.”

  “So he’s not trolling for easy money,” she said.

  “Exactly.”

  She sighed. “I thought you were just being rude, rushing me out of there.”

  He shot her a glance. “How about clever? Isn’t it just as possible I was being extremely clever?”

  “Maybe,” she admitted. “But also rude. It wouldn’t hurt you to be normal in social situations, you know.”

  He ignored this, which didn’t surprise her. “It is interesting,” he said. “Eric’s yet another apprentice who’s alluded to something that happened to you on the night of the fire.”

  She stopped breathing. “Of course something happened to me. My grandpa died.”

  He glanced over at her, his eyes sympathetic. “I know, and I’m sorry to bring up bad memories, but are you sure there’s nothing else you want to tell me?”

  “I’m sure,” she said, staring straight ahead out the windshield. “And Eric’s not going to find that card. At least not in time,” she said, watching the night as it whipped past her.

  “Be patient. Have some faith.”

  This had her looking at him again. “Be patient? Have faith? Are you kidding me?”

  “You’ve got to leave emotions out of it or you’ll react with them instead of your brain.”

  She snorted in annoyance and frustration. “Easy for you to say. You don’t have to fight anything as messy as your emotions.”

  He spared her another glance. “You think I don’t have emotions?”

  “I think you don’t very often give in to them.”

  He was quiet at that, concentrating on the road or who the hell knew what, and she thought it was done, conversation over. Until he pulled onto her street and put his hand over hers to stop her from gettin
g out.

  “The job taught me patience,” he said. “And believe me, it came hard-won and I’ve paid the price for it. There were times when hiding my thoughts was the only thing that saved my ass, so yeah, I’m good at it. But don’t mistake that for me not having emotions or feelings, Kylie. You’ve seen me lose it over you more than once now.”

  Yeah, and still, she wanted more from him. But she refused to ask for it.

  Joe’s hands slid up and down her arms in a caressing touch that had her eyes wanting to close her eyes in sheer pleasure, but then he expelled a long, shuddery breath, let go of her, and got out to walk her up.

  “That isn’t necessary,” she said.

  “Someone’s taunting you with a personal memory and they know where you live. They’re just playing with you right now, but that could change. I’m walking you up.”

  She sighed. She hated that he was logical and reasonable when she couldn’t be. “Fine,” she said and relented. “And thank you.” Then they got to her apartment, where she unlocked her door and froze at the sight of yet another envelope on the floor.

  Chapter 13

  #TheresNoCryingInBaseball

  Kylie might have frozen at the sight of the envelope on her floor, but Joe didn’t. In the doorway, he put one hand on her arm to indicate she should stay while simultaneously scanning their immediate area.

  She had no idea what he saw, but she didn’t catch anything out of the ordinary. Still keeping ahold of her, Joe shut the door behind them, engaged the locks, and picked up the envelope.

  She started to say something, but he put a finger to his lips, scooped up Vinnie, who’d come running at them, and gently set him into her arms. Then he went through her place, flipping on lights, obviously clearing the apartment like she saw law enforcement do on TV, only even cooler.

  “I don’t think whoever it is actually comes in,” she said, but Joe didn’t respond, just continued to work his way through the apartment. Kylie cuddled Vinnie close as he licked her chin, ecstatic as always to have her home. She set him down and he immediately went running for a toy to bring her. Tonight he brought his current favorite, a miniature-size tennis ball.

  She obliged him by tossing it. “Fetch,” she said, ever hopeful he’d finally get it.

  Vinnie pounced after the ball and . . . ran down the hallway with it and vanished. She was sighing when Joe came back to the living room.

  “Open the envelope,” he said, clearly getting that she was stalling.

  Predictably, it was another Polaroid. This one had her poor penguin precariously balanced on a cable car, close to falling off into oncoming traffic, and her heart squeezed. “Dammit.” She clutched the picture to her chest. “I’ve got too much crazy in my life. The photos, my missing penguin, you.”

  He let out a quiet, low laugh, taking the picture to look at it. “You started it with that kiss.”

  Her entire body reacted as if he’d just planted another one on her, which was annoying enough to have her go into full court press defensive. “I keep telling you, I barely remember what that kiss felt like,” she said. “Or, for that matter, the second one.”

  “Really.”

  “Yes, really,” she said, having no idea why she was baiting him. “Maybe you’re not as good at kissing as you seem to think.”

  “Hmm,” he said. “Hold this for a sec.” He handed her back the picture.

  She took it without thinking and then he tugged her into him and kissed her. He kissed her long and deep and deliciously hot, until she couldn’t help the moan that escaped her, until she was remembering exactly how good he was with his mouth, until she dropped her keys and the picture and threw her arms around him to hold him close.

  When they ran out of air, he made his way along her jaw and she found himself tilting her head to expose her throat to him, loving the feel of his lips and teeth running over her skin. He bit down gently and a shock ran through her body, all the way to her toes, just as Vinnie trotted back into the living room and dropped something at their feet.

  Breaking free, Kylie started to smile, so proud. “Yes! You’ve finally learned to fetch—” She broke off in horror as Joe burst out laughing.

  Vinnie had “fetched” her vibrator.

  Face flaming, she bent and scooped it up and shoved it beneath a couch cushion. “I have no idea how he got ahold of that . . . light saber.”

  At that, Joe only laughed harder. He had to bend over and put his hands on his knees, and by the time he’d finished and straightened back up, swiping at his eyes, she was hands on hips, definitely cooled off . . . and so embarrassed she could hardly talk. “You have to go now,” she managed.

  “Because you don’t need me since you have a vibrator?”

  “Light saber!” She opened the front door. “Out.”

  He came toe-to-toe with her and, eyes on hers, reached out and shut the door. “Hey,” he said. “If a person isn’t at least having a one-some every night, then you’re squandering your pre-apocalypse time.”

  She closed her eyes and moaned, and he laughed again. “Kylie,” he said, clearly having to work hard to get ahold of himself. “I love that you have a . . . light saber. I love it so much I’m hoping you let me watch you play with it.”

  “Ohmigod.” She shoved him away and covered her face.

  He gently peeled her fingers from her cheeks. She met his gaze with effort. “I shouldn’t have brought you in on this,” she murmured. “Things really do seem even crazier now than they were.”

  She expected him to make fun of her and continue to tease her, but instead he shook his head. “We’re making progress. You’ve just got to be patient.”

  She was so not good at being patient. The amused look on his face said he knew it too.

  “And as for the crazy,” he said and let loose a small smile, “maybe it’s you. Maybe you’re a crazy magnet.”

  “Yeah? Then what does that make you?”

  He flashed a full-out grin now and blew the rest of her brain cells. Then he vanished into her kitchen. “Got popcorn?” he called out. “Hot chocolate?”

  “Of course. They’re both very important food groups. Why?”

  “Because we’re going to watch a movie.”

  “At the risk of repeating myself,” she said, “why?”

  “Because you’re unsettled and you’re not ready to be alone.”

  And he was going to sit here with her until she was ready. She tried not to let that warm her, but it was too late. Heart warmed. And other parts too, parts that had previously warmed only for her “light saber.”

  Five minutes later they were watching a Fast & Furious movie and eating popcorn and drinking hot chocolate, Vinnie sprawled in Joe’s lap.

  When the movie ended, Kylie turned to Joe. “You were a perfect gentleman. How come?”

  “I’m trying to be good.”

  She stared at him. “Good isn’t exactly what comes to mind when I think of you.”

  “I’m trying to be good for you,” he said. “But sometimes I lose it.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah,” he said on a small smile. “Have you seen you? A dead man would respond to you. And I’m not dead, Kylie.” He stroked a finger along her temple. “At first I thought it might’ve been the wig. Hell, maybe it’s your light saber.”

  “Ha ha,” she muttered, patting her head. Damn, she was indeed still wearing the wig. Great.

  He was smiling when he leaned in and kissed her, slow and deep. He groaned low in his throat, a heady, masculine sound, and she pulled back. “Are you still trying to be good?” she asked softly.

  He stared at her mouth, eyes so hot she was shocked her clothes hadn’t gone up in flames. “Yeah, but being good isn’t my first nature so don’t tease me.” He tugged her up from the couch, took her to her kitchen table, and pulled something from his pocket.

  “A lock?” she asked, confused.

  “One last thing on the program for the night. You asked me to teach you basic B&E
skills.”

  And here he was, following through on his word.

  He paused, head cocked. “You didn’t expect me to do what I said I would,” he said, not sounding thrilled about that.

  “Honestly?” She shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”

  He shook his head, gestured her closer, and showed her the tool. He then picked the lock in about two seconds right in front of her and she still had no idea how he did it.

  “Again,” she said.

  He went much slower, carefully and thoroughly explaining each move. When his phone buzzed, he took a quick second to glance at the screen.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I need to help Archer with something.” But he stayed where he was, gesturing that it was her turn to work the lock.

  She was on her tenth—unsuccessful—attempt and getting pissy all over again when he came up behind her to watch over her shoulder, making her screw up attempt number eleven and twelve. “Dammit!”

  She felt his body contract in a silent laugh as he brushed a kiss along her jaw.

  “Relax,” he said in her ear.

  With his solid, warm body pressing up against her back? Not likely. But not wanting to reveal how much he affected her, she continued to try to work the lock.

  “Patience.” He then slid his hands over hers, guiding her through the process until the lock clicked open.

  His doing, not hers.

  “Thought you had to go,” she said quietly, feeling anything but quiet.

  “I do.”

  Joe took the lock and the tool she still held and set them both on the table. Then he turned her to face him and pressed up against her. Her lungs stopped working as every inch of her went on high alert, quivering with need.

  “Kylie,” he said, voice thick with desire.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m about to lose it again.”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  “Okay,” he whispered back and lowered his mouth to an inch from hers. They shared a breath before he closed the gap and kissed her, slow and intense.

  Someone moaned. Her, she realized, and then he deepened the kiss, a hot, intense tangle of tongues and teeth that would’ve had her sagging backward if she hadn’t been sandwiched between her kitchen table and Joe’s hard, hot body. One of his hands moved to her hip, the other cupped the nape of her neck, pinning her to him as he continued to kiss her until she was clutching him, panting, whimpering for more. She wanted this—oh God, how she wanted it—but he was needed at work, so she put a hand to his chest and slowly pulled back.