Lucky Kiss

by Melanie Shawn

  He thought about her constantly. Day and night, she consumed him. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew her, but he also knew he’d never met her before he’d moved to Hope Falls.

  She made him feel things that, up until now, had been completely foreign to him. When he’d seen Casey heading towards her to ask her to dance, a feeling he assumed was jealousy surged through him. The same had happened when he’d seen her and Alder talking in the gym.

  Then he’d opened up to her in a way he never had before. Ever. When she’d asked him about his dance moves, he’d told her the truth. Not that he’d lied to other people, but he’d always said that he’d taken a few lessons. Never anything specific. Never anything about his mom.

  But with her, he’d gotten specific. Personal.

  And of course, when he’d pulled her into his arms, his body had recognized hers like an old lover—and they hadn’t even kissed. Nothing was awkward or tentative about the way they molded together. When she’d been pressed against him—her curves melting into him, it had felt right. Perfect. Like she had been made to be there.

  But the real kicker was that he’d apologized to her. Said sorry. For nothing. Some people had accused him of having a big ego or a God complex, and he guessed there might be some truth to that. Fighters needed to believe in themselves, believe they were the best. If not, they shouldn’t get into the cage. But he hadn’t hesitated in asking forgiveness for…what? Her bad mood?

  Tilting her head to the side so her eyes could reach his, she sounded breathless as she whispered, “You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

  For some reason, her pointing that out made him want to kiss her even more than he had, which was saying something. Most women he’d been with would’ve taken advantage of his assumed responsibility for something and run with it. Milked his apology for all it was worth, deserved or not.

  But, as he was finding out more and more, Deanna was nothing like the other women he’d known.

  “I shouldn’t have told you that about my mom.” No, that wasn’t when she’d shut down, but it still hadn’t been the most appropriate thing to say on not even a real first date.

  “No.” Shifting her legs, she faced him and placed her hand over his, her gaze softening. “I’m glad you did.”

  The sincerity that shined through her emerald-green eyes stole Lucky’s breath away. It looked like she cared. Really cared.

  When had anyone who wasn’t family, didn’t have anything to do with MMA, or wasn’t trying to get something from him, cared that much about him?

  Never. That’s when.

  Their eyes remained locked and Lucky slid his hand over hers just as Henry cleared his throat loudly, pulling both of their attention to the stage.

  “And now, for the biggest bid of the night.”

  A drumroll sounded through the speakers, and a hush fell over the crowd.

  “Last year, this particular honor went to one of Hope Falls’ finest, Eli Bishop.”

  Eli smiled broadly and lifted his hand in recognition to the applause of the crowd. When he lowered it, his eyes caught Lucky’s and his smile morphed into a hard line. He did not look happy.

  Not happy at all.

  “This year, that distinction is once again going to one of Hope Falls’ finest with the last name Bishop. She’s just a lot prettier than last year’s winner.”

  The crowd laughed, and Deanna whispered, “No, no, no,” under her breath.

  Oh shit. Lucky had wanted to outbid everyone, but he hadn’t wanted to embarrass a girl who clearly did not like being the center of attention.

  “With a combined total of five thousand dollars, Deanna Bishop is this year’s top-bid winner.”

  The crowd started clapping, and although he could only see the side of her face, it was enough to see that she was as red as a tomato.

  A few people called out, asking who the bidder was. Thankfully, Lucky didn’t have to worry about this part. All of his charitable contributions were anonymous.

  “Sorry, folks. It’s anonymous.”

  There was a wave of boos and mumbling surrounding him. But he didn’t miss the amount of people who were looking their direction like they knew he was the bidder. Or maybe he was just being paranoid. Maybe they were only looking at Deanna and the stares had nothing to do with him.

  As Henry wrapped up the evening with thanks to the committee, vendors, donators, and bidders, Deanna reached below her seat and grabbed her purse. He could tell she was trying to remain calm, but her demeanor reminded him of a caged animal. He could sense her tension as she pasted on a smile while the guys at the table gave her a hard time about being the “big winner.” When the jokes turned to Eli’s not being able to follow up his win from last year and Henry said goodnight, Deanna was up and out of her chair like it was spring-loaded.

  Thankfully, Lucky had excellent reflexes. It also didn’t hurt that he’d already been anticipating her quick departure, so he was right behind her. Unlike the trip back to the table from the dance floor, there was no crowd to weave in and out of, so following her out to the parking lot was a lot easier.

  As soon as they made it outside, her phone buzzed in her purse.

  She pulled it out and said, “Shit!”

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  Apparently, she hadn’t realized he was hot on her tail, because she screamed in surprise and threw her arms up in the air, sending her phone flying. Thanks to his aforementioned great reflexes, he caught it in midair.

  Gripping her chest, she asked, wild-eyed, “What are you doing?”

  “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you,” her response was so fast, it felt like it’d been rehearsed.

  Maybe it had. Maybe she’d planned on saying that if he ever showed interest in having a conversation with her.

  Handing her phone back, he ignored her protest and repeated, “Everything okay?”

  Looking flustered, Deanna replied, “I just… I forgot that Eli is my ride. He just texted me that he and Audrey were going to dance and that he’d look for me after.”

  A couple Lucky had seen a few times at his brother’s bar, came out the doors of the community center and waved. He wished them a good night as they made their way to their car. Deanna smiled but her eyes shot back at the door.

  “I’ll take you home,” Lucky offered.

  Pulling her head back, she scoffed. “What? No. Thanks, but no. I’ll walk.” Then without another word she turned on her heel and started hightailing out of the parking lot.

  In two strides, he was beside her.

  “What are you doing?” Deanna asked, which was becoming a running theme in their relationship.

  Lucky smiled. “Walking you home.”

  “Thanks, but I’m fine. This is Hope Falls.” She dramatically stretched her arms out. “Seriously, I can take care of myself.”

  “Really?” He continued walking beside her.

  “Yes, really.” Her feet moved faster.

  “Like you did back there when you screamed and threw your phone in the air?”

  Stopping, she spun towards him and crossed her arms. She was mad—or, at the very least, irritated—so he tried not to let the fact that she looked cuter than anything he’d ever seen in his life show on his face.

  “I didn’t know you were there,” she said in a defiant explanation.

  He knew that he might just piss her off more, but that didn’t stop him from saying, “Oh, right. And I guess most attackers announce their presence. Give you plenty of time to prepare your retaliation.”

  Her lips twitched, and her eyes lit with amusement. The smile she was fighting was a good sign, and Lucky’s chest swelled with an emotion he couldn’t quite place.

  Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm down. Or stay mad. He couldn’t really tell, but he was enjoying the show. Between her arms pushing her breasts up so they were spilling over her revealing neckline, and the
motion of her chest rising and falling, he could’ve stood there and watched her breathe all night and not get bored.

  “Look, this is a safe town. I’ve studied self-defense, and I was just distracted.”

  “Okay,” he agreed.

  She narrowed her gaze as if she didn’t accept his easy answer. “Okay?”

  Shrugging casually, he repeated, “Okay.”

  Nodding, she smoothed her hands over her dress and started walking again. So, naturally, he followed.

  “You said okay!” she exclaimed indignantly as she once again stopped.

  “Yes, I did. Just because I agreed with the points you made doesn’t mean I’m going to let you walk home alone.” He grinned, but tried to disguise the fact that he was seriously enjoying their verbal sparring match. She was so damn adorable when she was flustered from irritation.

  Looking at him like he’d grown another head, she raised her hands up as she asked, “Don’t you have some other girl you want to harass? Maybe a girl who would actually appreciate it?”

  “Nope. You are the only girl I want to harass.” Which was the truth.

  Since he’d met Deanna, no other woman had existed for him. If he wasn’t with her, he was thinking about her. When he was with her, he wanted to stay with her, get to know her—and not only in the biblical sense, but that was definitely on the top of his list.

  More attendees started filing out of the double doors, and Deanna’s head fell back as she let out a small groan. She might not have meant for the gesture to be or sound sexual, but that’s exactly what it’d been. Lucky’s already-half-hard erection pulsed beneath his slacks. He wanted to lean forward and press his lips to the soft skin on her neck, slide his hands up her dress and find out if she was wearing lace panties, silk panties, or no panties…

  “You win. You can drive me home.” She sounded anything but happy at her acquiescence, but Lucky was happy…Very happy.

  Chapter 13

  ‡

  Well, this night had gone from bad, to worse, to horrible, to just plain humiliating.

  Deanna’s mind was racing as Lucky led her across the parking lot to his vehicle. Of course he’d parked on the opposite side of the parking lot. It was too much to ask that his car could’ve been close.

  It’d been bad enough trying to hide her body’s reaction to sitting beside Lucky during dinner from not only him, but also Chris, Casey, and—worst of all—Eli. The hour had been torture. Pure torture. Every time he’d spoken, his deep voice had washed over her. Each time his elbow or knee had bumped hers, she’d had to actively not shut her eyes and luxuriate in the delicious sensations spreading through.

  That had been bad enough, but it had gotten worse when he’d intercepted her on the dance floor and they’d been magically cocooned in an intimacy bubble. That had popped the second she had come to her senses as gracefully as being dunked in ice-cold water, and in the blink of an eye, or more accurately the opening of her eyes, became aware of her surroundings.

  On the way back to her table, she’d been trying to shake the feeling of complete loss of control. Then she’d been briefly distracted by Lucky’s unexpected apology. Not many guys she knew would offer a blanket apology like that.

  She’d added two more glasses of wine to the four she’d already consumed and started to relax. But her reprieve had been short-lived when she’d been hit with the horrible portion of the evening. Someone had actually paid five thousand dollars for her. Or her time, but whatever.

  Every eye in the entire room had turned her way. She’d had to wrap her hands around the bottom of the chair so she wouldn’t bolt out of there. Even though it was only her old insecurity rearing its ugly head, she felt like the whole thing must have been a practical joke or a means to an end. An expensive practical joke or means, but a joke or means nonetheless.

  Why would someone have bid five grand to have eight hours of her time? It made absolutely zero sense. She barely knew anyone in this town.

  Then, just when she thought she was making her great escape from Lucky, from the dance, from the town, the man who started the spiral downfall of this evening startled her so badly, she was surprised she didn’t pee in her pants. Which was embarrassing for a plethora of reasons, but mainly because, with her extensive martial arts training, she should’ve been prepared to be caught off guard. That was kind of the basic tenant in Krav Maga.

  As Lucky opened the passenger side door to his SUV and held her hand while she got in, she immediately sent up a silent prayer that he didn’t notice the way a shiver ran up her arm from the touch of his large, rough hands. Deanna took a deep breath and pushed down the frustration and panic that was battling inside of her for top billing.

  Once he shut the door, she tugged her skirt down. When he got in, the entire left side of her body broke out in goosebumps from the intense stare he directed at her, but she kept her eyes trained ahead, looking out the windshield. She sat with her jaw set, her hands folded in her lap, and her back straight, hoping to convey that she just wanted to go home. Silent communication wasn’t usually her go-to form, but with the amount of wine she’d consumed tonight, it was her best bet.

  She let out a small sigh of relief when Lucky started the engine and backed out of the parking spot.

  This night had definitely taken a humiliating turn when she’d felt forced to accept a ride from the last person she wanted to be around. It wasn’t just because of her body’s treacherous reactions to him, either. It was also because of how he looked at her. When he stared into her eyes, it felt like he saw her—really saw her—and that was the last thing she wanted.

  “You’re quiet,” Lucky observed as they drove out of the parking lot.

  Proving his point, Deanna continued focusing out the window, at the moonlight dancing off the river. She knew she was being rude. She was a little too emotional and didn’t trust herself to speak. Especially considering the six glasses of wine she’d had this evening, which broke her hard-and-fast rule. Loose lips sank ships, and alcohol made her one Chatty Cathy capable of taking down an armada of ocean liners.

  “How was your evening tonight, Lucky?” he asked himself before answering his own question. “Oh, it was great, actually. Thanks for asking.”

  Deanna bit her lips to keep from smiling. She should’ve been annoyed at his adolescent behavior, and if it were any other guy, she was sure she would’ve been. But this was Lucky. And, whether she liked it or not (which, for the record, she didn’t), what should’ve been annoying or irritating on him always landed in the charming and amusing columns.

  “Of course!” he replied enthusiastically, still talking to himself. “I’m so glad you had a good time! What was the highlight of your evening, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  If he kept going, she was going to start cracking up, so she worked to maintain her composure. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Which she was fully aware made her behavior even more adolescent than his. She was being ridiculous.

  Still, trying to disguise her amusement, Deanna sighed. “Fine. You win again. What do you want to talk about?”

  Lucky shook his head as he clicked his tongue. “Sorry, Pop-Tart. You had your chance.”

  Pop-Tart?

  Had he seriously just called her Pop-Tart!?

  Before she was able to form an appropriately indignant response, he continued the conversation he was having with himself.

  “Wow. Highlight of my evening…” He hissed through his teeth. “That’s a tough one. I’m going to have to go with the dance that I had with this smokin’-hot brunette.”

  Her cheeks burned at his description. Then she tried to remind herself that he was joking around, but the message got to her head and, she feared, her heart too late.

  He continued his one-man show. “Wait, you’re not talking about the smokin’-hot brunette who shut you down when you asked her to go as your date tonight.”

  Her attempts to conceal her smile were futile. The corners of her lips turned up
into a wide grin as she shook her head.

  “Yep. That’s the one,” Lucky confirmed…to himself. “And while it’s true that she did pass on going as my date, I would like the record to show that she sat right next to me at dinner and was flirting shamelessly—”

  A gasp flew from her mouth. “I was not!”

  “I’m sorry, but no one was talking to you.” He looked over at her as if she had truly interrupted a private conversation.

  Despite herself, she burst out laughing.

  “Rude,” he said under his breath as he once again stared out the windshield, pretending to be offended. “As I was saying, after flirting subtly but shamelessly with me during dinner, we shared one of the most…I don’t even have the words…intimate slow dances in the history of all time. Then, said smokin’-hot brunette asked me for a ride home. Sooooo, was it a date? I think so.”

  Deanna was still chuckling as they drove onto the main road, all the tension she’d been feeling gone. She was relaxed now and surprisingly having fun.

  After composing herself, she crossed her arms. “Are you finished?”

  Lucky turned his head slightly towards her, acting surprised. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want to join the conversation?”

  “Only to set the record straight that, one, I did not flirt with you at dinner. Shamelessly or subtly. And, two, I did not ask for a ride home. That was all you.”

  “Duly noted. Is that it?” he asked casually, but she had a bad feeling the question was leading somewhere.

  She narrowed her eyes, knowing she was playing right into his hand. “Yes.”

  He grinned—one of victory. “So you admit that was one of the most intimate slow dances in the history of all time.”

  “I didn’t say that.” Heat once again rushed to her cheeks, and she was glad the only light in the SUV was from the moon.

  “You didn’t submit any evidence disproving it, so by default, ya kinda did say that.” He sounded more than a little pleased with himself.