And Then He Kissed Me

by Kim Amos

  Audrey shook her head, her hands flailing for the microphone. She hadn’t said pole dancing, Kieran realized.

  “You misunderstood!” Kieran shouted, but his voice was lost in the crowd’s buzzing. Onstage, Leif was anxious to move on, past the unsavory career choice he’d misheard.

  “All right, Audrey,” Leif said quickly, “tell us what item of clothing the White Pine Historical Museum has that once belonged to city founder Jebediah Stronghouse.”

  Audrey swallowed. She was so pale that Kieran worried she would pass out. She gave an unflattering tug on the hem of her dress. “His h—hat,” she managed.

  “That’s correct!” Leif said, returning to Jeannie Swanson without another look at Audrey. Kieran’s heart crumpled at her horrified expression. Dear God, she looked like she was going to burst into tears, and she’d only answered one question. There were four more to go.

  Kieran barely moved as the second question was asked of woman after woman: Tell us about how you’ve helped someone recently.

  When it was her turn, Audrey blinked at the crowd. Kieran could see Leif standing farther away this time, as if she was somehow unsavory. Audrey’s eyes were focused somewhere over the crowd’s heads. Silence settled in the tent. You could hear every shoe scrape and every cough. She’s in shock, Kieran realized.

  Pain tore through him. He had to help her. He could not—would not—let her humiliate herself any further.

  So he took a breath and did the only thing he could.

  He stormed the stage.

  * * *

  Audrey struggled to breathe. The dress’s fabric was too heavy, laden with far too many crystals, and hot against her skin. She was claustrophobic in it, and thought she might overheat. Her limbs were numb and tingling, and she wasn’t sure how much longer her legs would support her weight.

  To call the pageant a disaster was an understatement. In the crowd, one woman glared at her, then grabbed the hand of her young daughter and yanked her out of the tent.

  They think I’m a pole dancer, she thought, her chest tight with panic. Next to her, Leif was saying something, but she couldn’t make out the words. Time was wobbling and warping—slowing down and speeding up so she couldn’t tell where one moment ended and the next began.

  I am such a screwup, she thought, tears pooling in her eyes. The next idea pierced her like a stab wound: Maybe my sister was right. Maybe I can’t do anything right on my own.

  She feared that the sudden rumbling in her ears was the blood rushing to her head in scarlet mortification. But then, to her surprise, the rumbling reached a crescendo in front of her, and Kieran Callaghan came roaring out of the crowd.

  She struggled to stay upright as he vaulted onstage. Beside her, Leif Jenssen went rigid. He lifted the microphone to his mouth but didn’t seem to be able to find any words to say into it.

  Kieran’s thick motorcycle boots clomped as he walked over to Leif and whispered something in his ear. Leif stared at him for a moment, then nodded.

  And then he did the most astonishing thing: He handed Kieran Callaghan the microphone.

  Kieran took it, then stood next to Audrey, who decided she was hallucinating this whole thing. The pageant wasn’t really happening. It couldn’t be. No way Kieran Callaghan was standing next to her onstage. She would wake up soon, warm in her own cozy bed, and she’d laugh later when she told the whole Knots and Bolts gang what she’d dreamed.

  The feel of Kieran’s arm around her waist was all too real, though. His muscled body was a tower next to her exhausted frame, and she leaned into him.

  When she chanced to look up at him, his sea-colored eyes churned with a tempest of emotion. He tore his gaze from hers to address the crowd under the tent.

  “My name is Kieran Callaghan and I work at the White Pine Harley dealership that opened up recently.” His strong, steady voice reverberated in every part of Audrey’s body. His grip tightened around her waist. “I don’t know many of you, but many of you do know Audrey. And because you know her, it’ll be clear to you that your friend and neighbor isn’t feeling too well right now.”

  He took a breath, his broad chest expanding. “This is a town filled with good people, and so I’m sure you all will extend to Audrey the same grace and understanding you’d want if you were up on this stage right now.”

  There were murmurs in the tent. For a moment, Kieran looked like he was going to hand the microphone back to Leif, but then changed his mind.

  “Just one more thing,” he said, his voice gravelly with an emotion Audrey couldn’t quite place. “I’d like to answer the last question Leif asked—the one about helping someone recently—by saying that Audrey Tanner’s kindness and faith in me changed the course of my life. She helped me, that’s for sure. And I know she’s changed many of you out there as well.” He paused, as if collecting his thoughts. Inside the tent, people were looking around as if to say, Who is this guy?

  “I know Audrey Tanner has taught many of your children at school,” Kieran said, “and I know she’s helped get some young women track scholarships for college. When your kids were in trouble, I know many of you went to Audrey, because she’s the teacher who would help. And she’s still helping your kids, believe it or not, even though the school decided to let her go.”

  Audrey blinked. Was she really hearing this? Kieran was defending her, and, improbably, the town was listening. She looked out at the crowd and saw softened faces, even a few smiles.

  “Audrey Tanner isn’t a pole dancer,” Kieran continued. “She’s a personal trainer. She’s trying to start her own business, and if you’re smart, you’ll support her because she’ll be amazing at it. And even if she was a pole dancer, it wouldn’t matter. Audrey can be a dancer or an Asparagus Queen or a janitor for all anyone should care. Because she’s perfect, just as she is. She is astounding.”

  He cleared his throat into the mic, sending reverb blasting through the tent.

  When the screech of the amplifiers was finished, Audrey could hear clapping and cheering from a small section of the tent. She searched the crowd to see Willa, Betty, Stephanie, and Anna, all whooping and hollering like mad.

  The next thing she knew, she was back in Kieran Callaghan’s arms and being whisked offstage.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Outside the tent, the sun was blindingly bright. Audrey blinked, only dimly aware of the polka band oompah-ing a few yards away, the charcoal smell of asparagus brats wafting through the air, and the drum major for the parade—a life-sized asparagus with epaulets—readying this year’s participants for the short, three-block march.

  She was much more aware of Kieran Callaghan carrying her, of his arms cradling her close and his rumbling growl of “Excuse me,” as he shoved past festival-goers. After two blocks of felted crafts, flapping asparagus flags, and trees wrapped in green crepe paper, he finally cleared the bounds of the festivities on Main Street and stopped at a bench outside of Loon Call Antiques. Gently, his breath coming in low rasps, he placed her on the wooden surface, then knelt in front of her. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was proposing.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. He grasped her hands in his and squeezed—a movement that was both thrilling and reassuring.

  Audrey stared at the man who had just rescued her from social suicide in front of the entire town and wondered how to answer. Was she all right?

  Her sister had lied to her.

  The whole town had briefly thought she was a pole dancer.

  She was desperately hungover.

  And yet Kieran had saved her, and her friends had cheered for her. Audrey straightened, trying to think clearly. “I’ll—I think I’ll be fine,” she said. She was also going to be embarrassed and horrified for weeks, maybe years. She tried not to dwell on it.

  “I’m proud of you,” Kieran said gently, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. The movement made Audrey’s dry throat even more desert-like. If he meant it to be comforting, it wasn’t. The subtle brush
es had tiny shocks electrifying her bones, creating fissures so the energy went straight into her marrow.

  “Proud of the village idiot?”

  “You are not,” he argued. “A lesser person wouldn’t have gotten up on that stage at all. Not after the kind of morning you had. But you got up there.”

  “A smarter person wouldn’t have gotten up there, you mean,” Audrey said with a sigh.

  “You can get out the cake and balloons, but I’m not going to throw you a pity party.”

  “Then throw me an amnesia fiesta so I don’t have to remember any of what just happened.” Except, of course, the part where Kieran had defended her and said all those wonderful things. He’d given a speech full of admiration and honesty, kind enough to make her head spin.

  “It wasn’t so bad,” Kieran offered.

  “Well, it would have been worse if you hadn’t saved me. If you hadn’t jumped on that stage and made Leif Jenssen look like he was going to pass out.”

  “It was him or you.”

  “That seems dramatic. I was doing okay.”

  “Could have fooled me. You looked like shit and I thought you were going to barf on Leif’s shoes.”

  Audrey giggled. The sound surprised her. She didn’t think anyone could make her laugh after what had happened today.

  “Is there a poem you think captures the mood of this moment?” she asked. “A piece of verse?”

  “There once was a gal from Nantucket, who went up onstage and said fuck it…”

  Audrey giggled again. Kieran grinned, and inched closer. Part of Audrey suddenly wished him even closer still, but he stayed put.

  “You got up on that stage and did the best you could,” he said. “I don’t think many people would be able to say that. And for what it’s worth, you handled your sister at the diner like a damn pro. You did great.”

  Audrey’s muscles tightened. Her sister.

  They might never speak again after this.

  The world blurred as tears pooled in her eyes.

  “My stupid sister,” she said. “What a liar.”

  Kieran watched her. “You figured that out pretty quickly. That she was lying, I mean. How did you know?”

  “She repeats things when she lies,” Audrey said. “She did it even when we were growing up.”

  “Ah, so you knew her tell. I should have picked up on it myself, but I think I was just so rattled. It was pretty intense.” His gaze was heating up the space between them. She could feel his stare in every part of her body.

  “I can’t believe she paid you to leave,” Audrey said.

  “What’s worse is that I can’t believe I left. That part’s not her fault, you know. She put the offer out there, but I’m the dickhead who took it.”

  Audrey smiled ruefully. “You were a dickhead.”

  “The biggest one ever, maybe.”

  “Would you have come back again if it wasn’t for the job?”

  Kieran pressed his lips together briefly. “Honestly? I doubt it. When I first saw you at the dealership, my one goal was to stay away from you and just keep the past in the past. I figured I’d gotten over you, after all.”

  But you hadn’t, Audrey thought.

  “It took me coming back to realize what a jackass I’d been, and that you were the only thing that had ever been good in my life. I want you to know how sorry I am. For the mistakes I made five years ago, and for those that I’ve made since I’ve been back. You deserve such a wonderful life. I don’t even know if I am the right guy to give it to you. But I’d live the rest of my life trying to be him.”

  Audrey studied Kieran’s earnest face, and let his steady words settle in her addled brain. The rest of his life.

  He had feelings for her: both in the past and right here on this bench. And maybe far into the future—if she’d let it go there.

  Her conscience twisted. Could she ever love Kieran Callaghan again?

  She gazed at his long, strong fingers clutching her hands. Heaven help her, had she ever stopped?

  She was an exhausted jumble of nerves and questions and wasn’t sure what to do about any of it.

  “You need to rest,” Kieran said gently. An emotional enigma she clearly wasn’t. “You should go home and sleep. But tonight, I want you to meet me. If you would, that is.”

  “Meet you where?”

  “At the Asparagus Festival. In the music tent. I want to dance with you again.”

  Audrey’s pulse raced. Dancing with Kieran Callaghan at the Asparagus Festival. Just like when they met five years ago.

  It’s only a dance, she told herself. And yet she knew it would be so much more. He would hold her against his broad chest and they’d move together, erasing the past five years with every sway and turn. It would be like the moment when Kieran’s bike surged forward, his feet lifting off the ground and the two of them flying down the road. The moment of takeoff.

  “If you don’t come,” Kieran said, “I’ll understand. I talked with Fletch this afternoon and the dealership is in fine shape. With your help, it’ll only get better. Come Monday, the main office has another gig for me in Brainerd, if I want it.”

  It seemed impossible that Kieran could leave so soon. Her body tensed, rejecting the idea.

  “If I do meet you, and I’m not saying I will, what time?”

  Kieran’s wide mouth broke into a shameless grin. His white teeth gleamed in the May sun; his eyes glinted like the Birch River. He was so handsome that her breath caught. “Eight o’clock.”

  She willed herself to say yes, but the word wouldn’t come. Not yet, anyway. She didn’t dare believe that a single, one-syllable word could start a chain reaction that could have Kieran back in her life, caring for her with his whole heart. And that she could give him hers in return.

  Could it really be that simple?

  She didn’t have much time to think about it. Because tearing down the sidewalk, the sun illuminating her blonde hair like a halo, came Betty. She was waving a dish towel and hollering loud enough for all of White Pine to hear: “Emergency Knots and Bolts meeting!”

  * * *

  “Hair of the dog,” Betty pronounced, setting a small glass of Scotch in front of Audrey. “Drink up.”

  “I think I’ll throw up if I have any more booze,” Audrey said. The liquid was deceptively beautiful: a rich color that reminded her of worn leather and polished oak barrels. She’d paint the darn glass if she could, but drink its contents? No way.

  “You won’t hurl,” Betty said, pushing the Scotch closer to her with a practiced hand. “It’s medicinal at this point. And that’s the good stuff. So just shoot it back.”

  Against her better judgment, Audrey tipped back the Scotch and grimaced as the peaty, fiery liquid lit up her esophagus and stomach. “Yeesh.”

  Stephanie opened up a cupboard door. “Can I get one of those, too? The twins crayoned the flat-screen television again.”

  Betty nodded and handed her the bottle. “Take it and pass,” she told the five women crowded into Knots and Bolts’s kitchenette, all of them leaning against the counters, the walls, or the small table where the hot dishes were set out. Audrey wasn’t sure why they weren’t at the big red table, but she wasn’t about to argue. This felt tighter—safer.

  Her throat pinched unexpectedly. With she and her sister fighting, these women were more like family than ever. She felt fresh tears collect at the thought.

  “All right, spill it,” Betty said, “because that pageant was a shit show to end all shit shows. And I want to know what caused it.”

  “Betty!” the women chorused. Audrey could only smile.

  Betty said things that needed saying.

  So she opened her mouth and told the story of Kieran’s confession at the dealership, about Casey’s lies, and about the terrible fight at the diner. “I was just so rattled by the time I got to the pageant that I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was a mess. If Kieran hadn’t stopped it—”

  “No offense, Audrey, but he could ha
ve had any woman in the crowd today,” Stephanie said, pouring another Scotch. “You should have seen how the ladies were looking at him. Like he was a white knight who had just rescued you.”

  “He did rescue me,” Audrey confessed, thinking of his heartfelt defense of her onstage. If the day wasn’t a complete ruin, it was because of that.

  “Well, I saw plenty of people looking at Audrey,” Willa said, her green eyes mischievous, “especially now that she’s a pole dancer.”

  Audrey put her forehead in her hands. She would never, ever live this down.

  “I wouldn’t despair just yet,” Betty said, patting Audrey’s arm. “Willa’s right. People were looking at you. Which means your plan might have just worked, albeit in a backwards way. I heard plenty of folks say they wouldn’t mind some personal training lessons from you, not to mention some dancing lessons, pole or otherwise. You may have hit on something.”

  Audrey looked up. “Seriously? Dancing?”

  “Well, it’s exercise, isn’t it?”

  “I—I guess.” Audrey chewed on her lip. She couldn’t pole dance, it was true, but maybe she could teach a fun, hip-shaking dance class, like Zumba or salsa. She’d done both in college, and she knew there was certification available for both.

  If she started reaching out to potential clients, like Caitlin and Sonja’s moms, she could offer more than just weights and running. She could offer something cardio that felt…fun.

  The idea slammed into her. She never would have even considered a dance class before this.

  Maybe the pageant hadn’t been a waste after all.

  But even if she got a thriving personal training business out of the whole ordeal, it still wouldn’t make up for the fact that the most important relationship in her life was still a mess. Casey had misled her—had lied to her. Casey had been a first-rate jerk.

  She groaned. “What do I even do now? I don’t know how to fix things with my sister—or if I even should.”

  “That’s part of why I called this meeting,” Betty said. “I have an important proposal for the group. I motion that we let Casey Tanner into the Knots and Bolts recipe exchange.”