Kiss in the Dark

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  “Well, ladies…gotta get home and get my run in before it gets too late.”

  In the next instant, he was gone.

  “Vance Romance,” Danielle said, shaking her head. “More like Dr. Perve. I am so sorry, Boston! He can be such a brat sometimes.”

  “It’s fine,” Boston said. “Really. He cracks me up.” In truth, however, the good doctor, Vance Romance, had entirely freaked her out! She still had goose bumps on her arms and legs—still couldn’t catch her breath! What a kiss! What a kisser! The thought traveled through her mind that Logan West would have to be pretty awesome to push the memory of Vance Nathaniel’s kiss from her mind any time soon.

  “Well, when he has a point to prove…he’s gonna prove it no matter what it takes,” Danielle giggled. “I guess he thought you were too worked up over nothing, huh?”

  “I guess,” Boston said as she sat down on the arm of the chair nearest the door. She rolled her eyes with self-disgust at the realization that her knees were actually Jell-O—weakened from Vance Nathaniel’s tutoring kiss!

  “He’s right, though,” Danielle said. “Now that I think about it, it is easier to kiss someone for the first time when it’s dark.” She frowned, pensive. “That’s weird, isn’t it? Why is that? It’s not like you kiss with your eyes open anyway. So why is it easier when it’s in the dark?”

  Boston shrugged. “I don’t know…but he is right.”

  “I swear, Vance is, like, totally way smart about things like that. Stuff I would never even think about, he just seems to naturally know.”

  “I guess he’s had a lot of…experience…being that he’s Mr. Romance and all,” Boston said. She wondered then if Danielle’s brother held the same high standards where intimacy was concerned as Danielle did. Most likely not, being that he was so hot and gorgeous and attractive and virile. In Boston’s experience, guys like Vance were always promiscuous. Still, she wouldn’t settle on that sure judgment yet. After all, he was Danielle’s brother—she’d just pretend his fiber was of the same stuff as Danielle’s.

  Danielle shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s always been pretty picky.” Danielle went to the table, putting the remains of the rotisserie chicken they’d had for dinner in a plastic container. “He used to talk to me about his relationships and stuff…but he’s pretty tight-lipped anymore.” She giggled. “Though…my friend in high school, Trisha Coleman…she once told me Vance completely ruined her! She said nobody ever curled her toes the way Vance did. She swore kissing anyone else was pointless. Of course, she’s married now…so I guess she got over it in the end.” Danielle giggled again. “Vance Romance. What an idiot! I haven’t heard anyone call him that for years.”

  The doorbell rang, and Boston nearly jumped out of her skin.

  Danielle looked at her expectantly. “Well? Are you gonna answer it or not?”

  Boston nodded. At last her knees felt less gelatinous, and she stood.

  She looked through the peephole. Logan West was standing on the doorstep—handsome, charming Logan West. Yet residual Vance Nathaniel goose bumps still covered her arms, the taste of Vance’s kiss causing her mouth to water.

  Opening the door, Boston said, “Hi, Logan!”

  “Hi,” he greeted with a smile. To her surprise, Logan leaned forward, kissing her on the cheek.

  Boston forced a happy expression as Logan said, “You look great. Are you ready?”

  Boston nodded and kept the forced smile plastered on her face. “You bet,” she answered.

  Still, as she walked with Logan to his car, a swarm of butterflies took flight in her stomach when her peripheral vision caught sight of Vance’s pickup pulling out of the parking lot. At the mere thought of Vance’s kiss—the memory of the rapturous sensations he’d rained over her in the dark—Boston Rhodes began to wonder. Had Vance Romance and his euphoric kiss in the dark ruined her the same way he’d completely ruined Danielle’s friend so long ago?

  Boston smiled at Logan as he buckled her seatbelt for her and winked. She sighed as he slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. She guessed she’d find out soon enough.

  Chapter Eight

  “So…in the end…there’s only one conclusion,” Boston told Danielle as they sat at the kitchen table later that night.

  “And what’s that, Bost?” Danielle giggled.

  Boston shrugged, shook her head, and said, “I’m a tramp. That’s it. That’s all it can be.”

  Danielle couldn’t help but giggle. Boston could be so dramatic.

  “So Logan West kissed you, and it fell flat,” Danielle began. “That doesn’t make you a tramp. That just means it wasn’t meant to be—that Logan West, as hot as he looks, as nice and charming and gentlemanly as he is…he’s just not the one.”

  Boston sighed. “But…but I had a crush on him forever, Danielle! I encouraged him to ask me out again…and again…and a third time. But all this week, all I wanted was to find an excuse not to go. All week I was wound up because I knew he would try to kiss me again. And I wanted him to kiss me last time, the time Steph ruined it, but by the time tonight came around, I didn’t. So, I’m a tramp. That’s what tramps do…lead men on.”

  Again Danielle laughed. “Boston! Tramps do a lot more than lead men on. And where did you come up with the word tramp anyway? Just settle down. Logan West is a nice guy, and he’ll make some girl a nice boyfriend…just not you.” Danielle paused. She wasn’t certain whether she should actually say what she was thinking about saying. An idea had begun to form in her mind—it had been forming for some time. Yet if she were wrong about what she thought she’d read in Boston, the ramifications could be devastating.

  Danielle inhaled a deep breath of courage, however, and—feigning a casual demeanor—asked, “You don’t think my brother has anything to do with the fact that you sort of lost interest in Logan, do you?”

  “What?” Boston exclaimed. “Pfff,” she breathed, rolling her eyes. “Are you kidding me? Don’t be ridiculous, Danielle. Vance is your brother! That would be…well…just weird.”

  Danielle smiled, however. Boston’s reaction—the bright blush on her cheeks—was far too betraying. Vance had more to do with Boston’s sudden disinterest in Logan West than perhaps even Boston realized.

  “Well, I had to ask,” Danielle said. “I thought maybe that kiss he laid on you just before you left might have had something to do with it.”

  “Danielle Nathaniel!” Boston exclaimed. “What are you trying to do? One minute you’re talking me out of thinking of myself as tramp-ish, and the next minute you’re implying that I am! I mean, it was harmless, that kissing in the dark thing…harmless! Not to say it wasn’t a great kiss…not to say it wasn’t probably the best kiss I’ve ever had…but Vance is your brother, and there’s just something not right about implying I might have lost interest in Logan simply because Vance kissed me! I mean, obviously Vance has a way with women—which on one hand, makes me very suspicious…but on the other hand it was the best kiss I’ve ever had. And what else would anybody expect from a guy like Vance? Right? I mean he’s totally gorgeous…and not just his physicalness. He’s, like, smart too! I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone who can read people the way Vance does—right off he reads them. And he’s very gallant and protective. Look at the way he helped me with Stephanie…even pulled me out of the way before the vase hit me this morning. And of course he’s got a great sense of humor. It’s obvious he and Dempsey will be fast friends for, like, ever. But that doesn’t mean he turned my head from Logan. I probably subconsciously knew Logan wasn’t for me after our first date! Knowing me, I just felt too bad about encouraging him to ask me out…didn’t know how to stop dating him. I mean, even tonight, after Logan kissed me—which was a pretty benign kiss, actually, but made me want to never kiss him again for some reason—even after, when he said he’d call, did I tell him not to? No! Of course not! I said, sure! What an idiot! So now I’ll have to figure out how to put him off or tell him I’m not interested or so
mething, and you know how hard that is for me. And it’s not because of Vance…because, as I said, he’s your brother and that would just be too weird…no matter how handsome and smart and protective and funny and just plain perfect Vance might be. Besides, I’m sure that every woman he comes in contact with feels that way about him. Look at Steph, for instance!” Boston paused—drew a breath at last.

  Danielle was still smiling when Boston finally finished her rambling attempt to convince herself that Vance wasn’t the reason Logan West had lost his appeal.

  “He’s haunted too,” Boston continued then.

  “Logan?” Danielle asked. Yet she already knew Boston wasn’t talking about Logan. Her insides began to tremble with anxiety. Boston was very perceptive—too nice and often a pushover perhaps—but her perceptions concerning people and what pained them was exactly why she was a pushover—too much true empathy.

  “Vance,” Boston corrected. “I’m not quite sure what it is. But I think that’s why he runs so much…almost like he’s running from something.” Boston studied Danielle for a moment, and Danielle began to perspire beneath her gaze.

  Danielle knew. Boston was convinced that Danielle knew what Vance was running from. She wondered if it was connected with whatever deep, destructive pain Danielle had struggled with the summer they were working at the North Pole.

  Still, it wasn’t any of her business. When she’d mentioned it, Danielle’s eyes had lost their merriment, their amused twinkle replaced by trepidation—and Boston wouldn’t press her. To do so would be plain nosy, not to mention disloyal and wrong.

  “Anyway,” Boston sighed, “Logan West…he’s not for me.” She giggled. “If for no other reason than his kiss didn’t goose bump me the way Vance’s did. Not that I’m saying I have a thing for Vance or anything…just that he’s a great kisser. I mean, I’ve only known him, like, a week. How pitiful would that be…to let someone you’ve known only a week get into your head like that. Nope, in the end…I’m just a tramp.”

  Danielle’s expression brightened, an obvious relief lighting her eyes.

  “You’re not a tramp,” Danielle reassured.

  “Well, maybe not…but I am tired,” Boston said. “What a weekend, huh? Drama, drama, drama with Steph…nearly killed by a flying vase…”

  “Having your toes curled by your best friend’s brother,” Danielle interjected.

  “Figuring out I’m so stupid that I’m giving up a guy like Logan West,” Boston added.

  “You’ve had quite a weekend!” Danielle pointed out.

  Boston nodded. “And to top it all off, I only have one Tootsie Pop left. I don’t know when I’ll get over to Mustang to drop in at Sandy’s. I swear I’m going to go through withdrawal.”

  Danielle smiled—a mischievous smile that caused Boston to recognize just how much she looked like her brother at times.

  “What?” Boston asked. “You’re thinking something you shouldn’t be thinking. I can tell. Say it.”

  “You might get mad,” Danielle warned.

  “Is it funny?”

  “Hysterical!”

  “Then say it,” Boston demanded.

  “Well,” Danielle began, “I was just thinking that maybe you could give up your Tootsie Pop habit. You know…replace it with something else.”

  “Like what?” Boston asked, smiling. “Name one thing more delicious than a chocolate Tootsie Pop.”

  “Whenever you get the urge for a sucker, maybe you could just douse the lights and kiss Vance instead!”

  Boston giggled, sighed, and said, “That just might do it! Kind of like those nicotine patches people use to quit smoking, huh?”

  “Exactly!”

  “Oh, you’re hilarious, Danielle,” Boston said, shaking her head and thinking it would be a nice trade—being able to kiss Vance Nathaniel as often as her mouth watered for a chocolate Tootsie Pop.

  As she lay in her bed that night, however—actually, as she tossed and turned in her bed that night—Boston couldn’t purge the sense of Vance’s kiss from her memory. She’d tried—all night she’d tried. Following Vance’s seductive kiss in the dark, Boston had attempted to keep her mind from lingering on the incident—yet she couldn’t. Vance’s kiss had haunted her all through dinner with Logan, all through the movie he’d taken her to. Then, finally, when Logan walked her to her door, told her what a wonderful time he’d had in her company (which she found hard to believe, considering she’d been preoccupied with thoughts of Vance all night), and kissed her—she’d known. Logan West’s kiss hadn’t curled her toes. Logan’s kiss hadn’t even curled her interest! And she knew why. Danielle had been right: Logan West wasn’t “the one.” Logan West wasn’t even “the maybe.” Furthermore, Boston suspected—no, Boston knew—it was all Vance Nathaniel’s fault. Vance Nathaniel and his bad-boy kiss—his delicious, sensual, ethereal bad-boy’s kiss.

  Stephanie Crittendon was out of the picture. Sharing an apartment with Danielle would bring more relief and joy than Boston could even imagine. Furthermore, Boston suspected the assistant news scriptwriter’s job would be hers. All should be right with the world. But no—now there was Vance Nathaniel. Beautiful, ridiculously ripped, wise, insightful, funny, heroic Vance Nathaniel.

  With a heavy sigh, Boston closed her eyes and attempted to sleep. Why was it, just when everything in life seemed to be falling into a nice rhythm, why was it something always disrupted the harmony?

  

  “How much do you love me?” Vance asked Boston.

  Danielle chuckled as Boston breathlessly exclaimed, “Wh-what?”

  “How much do you love me?” he repeated. He frowned. “Actually, let me put it this way. What would you do for me if I was about to make you the happiest woman on the face of the earth?”

  Boston blushed. No, Boston turned red as a sun-ripened tomato!

  “W-well…how are you planning to make me the happiest woman on the face of the earth?” she asked. He was so affecting, so handsome standing there in his dirty, dusty work clothes!

  “Guess where I worked today,” he teased.

  “Where?” Boston asked. She was still nervous. What he’d said had been so startling—so deliciously flirtatious!

  He smiled. “Oh, on a little highway project out near Mustang.”

  Boston’s nerves settled, and her smile broadened. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yep. And…a little bird text messaged me and told me a little something about a little chocolate Tootsie Pop fan I know.”

  Boston giggled, delighted with Vance’s attention. She noticed then that he held one hand behind his back. She figured it was probably a bag of Tootsie Pops from Sandy’s Sweet Tooth Shop.

  “So, I’ll ask you again. What would you do for me if I was about to make you the happiest woman on the face of the earth?” he teased.

  “Well, what would you expect me to do for you?” Boston flirted, delighted in owning Vance’s attention.

  “Ooo! That’s a brave response,” Danielle warned.

  Vance chuckled, pretending to think hard. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll accept an IOU for a comparable favor…but just this once.” His smile broadened, and he said, “Write me out an IOU, and I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world.”

  Boston giggled and hurried to the fridge, grabbing a pen off the counter and ripping a piece of paper from the magnetic notepad on the freezer compartment door.

  IOU one comparable favor, she quickly wrote. Sincerely, Boston Rhodes. She folded the piece of paper and handed it to Vance. “Will that do?”

  Vance nodded and shoved the note in the pocket of his ratty brown T-shirt.

  But instead of holding out the hand he held behind his back, he turned and walked out of the apartment once more.

  Boston frowned, puzzled.

  “I was sure you sent him to Sandy’s for me,” she told Danielle.

  “Well, I did,” Danielle said, also frowning with puzzlement.

  Boston gasped, however, as in the next moment,
Vance returned—carrying a small wooden barrel—the same kind Sandy used to display candy in her store.

  Vance set the barrel down on the kitchen floor and announced, “There you go, Miss Boston Rhodes. Two hundred eighty-three chocolate Tootsie Pops, compliments of yours truly and Sandy’s Sweet Tooth Shop.”

  Boston squealed with delight and clapped her hands with excitement.

  “It’s like Christmas!” she exclaimed, plunging her hands into the barrel to feel the seemingly endless supply of her favorite lollipop. “You must’ve cleaned Sandy out!”

  “Pretty much,” Vance admitted. “But she said she didn’t mind…once I told her who they were for.”

  Oddly enough, Boston herself would’ve never felt okay about cleaning out Sandy’s supply of chocolate Tootsie Pops—but she didn’t feel bad at all about Vance’s having done so.

  Boston gasped and looked to Vance, horrified as sudden realization washed over her. “Oh my heck!” she said. “How much do I owe you? These are, like, fifty cents apiece…plus tax!”

  But Vance reached into his ratty T-shirt pocket, producing the IOU Boston had written.

  “Oh, don’t you worry, Tootsie Pop girl. I’ve got this IOU signed and delivered by your own little hand. You’ll pay me back one way or the other,” he said, winking at her.

  “I cannot let you spend, like, a hundred and forty dollars on my stupid habit and not—”

  “Hey! I said we’d find a way to call it good,” Vance interrupted. “After all, Danny told me to pick up, like, thirty. I’m the one who decided to buy the whole barrel.”