by Taylor Hart
“Well—” The dirty-blond guy held his hand out to her. “I’m Bucky,” he shouted over the music, just before the band finished up their song and announced they were taking a break.
Jenna giggled. “Like Captain America’s friend?”
The guy rolled with it. “Yes, definitely Winter Soldier Bucky.”
Jenna laughed loud, obnoxiously loud. She stepped past Kennedy and scooted in to their little table to sit next to Bucky.
Carrie was talking to the dark-haired guy, who was all decked out in cowboy stuff too.
That left Kennedy with the beach guy, who was grinning at her. “You were good out there today,” he said.
Kennedy weighed his interest. Most guys fixated on her missing hand, but this guy didn’t even seem like he noticed it. In a way, it made her more uncomfortable than the gawkers did—yet at the same time, she felt a little warm and fuzzy.
He put out his hand. “I’m Kyle.”
Right, the hot millionaire military guy. Tentatively, she shook his hand. “Kennedy.”
When she touched him, there was this zing or current or something her mother had told her about when she was little and reading fairy tales to her. No, not a spell. It was weird, though. She tugged her hand back quickly.
It was almost a relief when Carrie’s jealous side showed again, and she flashed both of them a fake smile and seized Kyle’s hand.
Kyle didn’t look happy to be claimed again. Not angry, just annoyed, like he wanted to shoo away a fly.
Carrie gestured to the dark-haired guy next to her. “Kennedy, I want you to meet Russell.” Turning, Carrie tactlessly gave Kyle a little push into the round booth, then followed him in.
It left Russell sitting on the end with a space for her. Russell was cute. What she hadn’t initially noticed until he gestured for her to take a seat was that he was missing a hand, too. Everyone was staring at her, waiting for a reaction.
Kennedy knew her face was burning red. How dare Carrie set her up just because they both had the same injury?
Russell tugged up the side of his lip and shrugged. “I guess we’re a match made in heaven, since I’m missing my right hand and you’re missing your left.”
Jenna gasped.
Kennedy choked back a laugh. She noted the playful mischief in his eyes, and she appreciated that he could read and defuse the situation. She nodded slightly before sitting. “So, dream man, when do we get married?”
Russell’s face fell for a brief moment. Then he laughed, and the whole table joined in. “My schedule’s clear anytime, anyplace. Name it, and I’m there.” He pumped his eyebrows.
Their eyes held, and to her surprise, she thought he meant it. Her heart skipped a beat.
A server showed up, and they all ordered drinks. Nervously, Kennedy asked, “Sorry, could I actually start with the mint chocolate chip ice cream?”
The server only frowned. “Nope, all we have is drinks and appetizers here.”
She glared at Carrie. “You said they had ice cream.”
Carrie met her gaze unapologetically. “My bad. Sorry.”
Kennedy could tell that she didn’t feel one bit bad. The thing she hadn’t expected was that Carrie’s date, Kyle, was looking at her too, with the same intensity as before.
She looked away, not wanting to cause a scene. What was with this guy? He’d looked at her like he’d known something about her ever since the beach.
“You want mint chocolate chip ice cream?” Kyle asked. “We can all leave and go somewhere else.”
She met his green eyes. “I’m fine,” she said quickly, glaring at Carrie.
Carrie sighed. “I’ll buy you some on the way home. I promise.”
Kennedy squirmed, feeling like a child who was begging her parent for a snack after dinner. “It’s fine.”
The band started back up, the music blaring out a fast-paced country song.
Carrie turned to Kyle. “Dance with me.” She was up and pushing into him.
Kyle held Kennedy’s gaze, then turned to Carrie. “Sure.”
“Want to dance?” Bucky asked Jenna, who nodded emphatically. They all headed out.
Kennedy watched them, thinking how carefree they both were. She hadn’t known Carrie or Jenna until the first year at university, but they’d all become close. Her gaze moved to Carrie and Kyle. He was twirling her into a pretzel or something, and they looked like pros. Kennedy glared at Carrie. Obviously, Carrie thought Kennedy and Russell would be perfect for each other because both of them were missing a hand. How trite.
She almost forgot Russell was sitting there until he cleared his throat. “Want to dance?”
“No,” she said, answering too quickly. “I don’t.” She wasn’t in the mood for this. She hadn’t planned on this.
“Look,” he said, leaning closer and letting out a breath. “I don’t know if you’re being weird because we are both missing a hand or you’re weird because you just don’t like me, but we could just talk.”
She stared at her glass of water. She hadn’t dated anyone since last year. Evan, who had ended up being a complete idiot, had been the last guy she had dated. It’d really turned her off of men lately. “Sorry, I’m not much of a talker.”
He let out a sigh. “Huh. For you, I guess it would have been easier to lose your mouth.”
Unexpectedly, she laughed.
Surprising her, Russell threw his head back and laughed with her. There was a twinkle in his eyes. She noticed he didn’t seem at all bothered by her. “Ya know, I used to be more like you, but then I decided I was tired of being pissed off at the world all the time.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not all the time.”
“Defensive much?” He smiled at her.
Kennedy softened. There was just something relaxing about Russell. “Truthfully, it’s not just the hand. I haven’t had much luck with men, either.”
“Yeah, okay.” He blew out his breath. “I don’t believe that.”
“What?”
Russell leaned back. “This guy, the one you didn’t have luck with, must have gotten in your head.”
“Nobody is in my head.” She scoffed.
“Right, I guess it’s your story. I’ll let you tell it your way.”
For a few moments, both of them just sat there. She took another sip of water and watched the others dancing. The song transitioned to a slow one, but the dance floor remained as crowded as ever.
After a minute, she found herself turning to him. “I guess we could dance a slow one.”
A small smile played at his lips. “Now you’re talking.”
They wandered out onto the dance floor, and before she knew it, they were in each other’s arms—well, arm. At first it felt awkward, but Russell didn’t let it stay that way. He just got close to her and put his left hand out. She took it hesitantly.
He winked at her. “This is nice.”
The fact that he was missing a hand was starting to break down her walls. “It is nice,” she conceded.
Russell used his other arm and put it on her hip.
She followed suit and rested hers on his arm.
He beamed at her.
She blinked, feeling vulnerable. “I hate dancing,” she confessed.
Russell pulled her closer and sped up the steps. “Ah, just feel the music and forget the rest.”
It helped that he was so relaxed, and she found herself enjoying the dance.
After a beat, he cleared his throat. “Kyle told me about a one-armed surfer who told him ‘not ever gonna happen’ when he asked her out this morning.” He laughed. “I was surprised when you showed up.”
“He told you about me?” It annoyed her that Kyle had talked about her, but she pushed it aside.
Russell grinned wider. “He mentioned some beautiful girl who was teaching a child to surf.”
Just then she turned, and her eyes connected with Kyle’s. He was holding Carrie close. Strike that—she had both arms around his middle and had snuggled i
nto him. In all honesty, it looked like he was trying to pull back. Those pure green eyes gave her another zing, and she looked away.
“Oh no.” Russell exhaled loudly. “I guess you’re already under the Kyle Bones Curse.”
“Whatever.” She gave him the stink eye.
“Ah, it’s all right. The funny thing is that the man curses women. From the moment they meet him, they fall in love with him like they’re under some spell.” Russell let out a low whistle. “I bet if you asked your friend there, she would tell you that she met him, barely talked to him, then she asked him out. Kyle always gets the women. I shouldn’t complain, though; he gets me dates too.” He tsked his tongue. “But they don’t stick, so there’s that.”
Now Kennedy did laugh. “Humph. I don’t think he gets all women.”
Russell laughed harder. “I’m liking you more and more.”
For a few moments, they just danced, and it felt nice.
Again, her eyes met Kyle’s. She let out an exasperated sigh.
“Dang it.” Russell winked at her. “I really thought I might have a chance with you.”
“It’s nothing. He just keeps looking at me.”
Russell muttered something under his breath. “Ya know, I guess I should give the guy a break. He did come back from the dead to find his fiancée was taken by another guy, so I guess he doesn’t always get the woman.”
Kennedy’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
“Yeah, our team was all thought to be dead.” His face turned from happy to serious. “We made it out. We were lucky.”
She couldn’t tell if he meant it or not. Biting back the urge to ask for more of the story, she managed to say, “I’m sorry. That must have been hard.”
Russell huffed. “I guess the word ‘hard’ works for civilians. For us it was brutal, awful … war.”
Kennedy felt overwhelmed just thinking about what these guys had gone through.
“Look, it’s fine. Although Kyle’s story is the most compelling for Florida natives. Didn’t you hear about Kyle Bones, former Navy SEAL, coming back from the dead? They had a big article in all the papers about it two years ago.”
“Nope.” Unable to stop herself, she asked, “And his girl was engaged, huh?”
“It’s intriguing, isn’t it? He was pretty devastated when Cassidy chose the football player over him, but it worked out.”
“It clearly didn’t work out,” she said, a bit exasperated by this guy’s rose-colored glasses.
Russell winked at her. “Hey, after I’ve been to war and had my hand blown off, I didn’t think things ever worked out. Then I decided I could just decide they were working out. That was my decision. It’s not about what life throws at you. You can’t control that.”
“What, are you some shrink or something?”
He laughed. “Actually, I’m in school to be.”
“Really?” She found this amusing.
He wagged a finger at her. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who worries about being psych-evaluated all the time.”
Now that he’d mentioned it, she did have that worry, but she wasn’t about to admit it. “No.”
The song changed to a fast one, and before Kennedy knew what had happened, Carrie and Jenna and the other guys had surrounded them, and they were all dancing together.
Russell lifted and lowered a shoulder at her, resigning himself to it. Then he started dancing too. He wasn’t self-conscious about his missing hand at all.
The song was an old Footloose song, and she thought of Kevin Bacon dancing in the eighties. She couldn’t help but join in with the others. There wasn’t really any choice with Carrie and Jenna pulling her arm and spinning her.
She found herself laughing and watching all the guys do crazy stuff. The sprinkler, the Egyptian, the lawnmower. It felt good to let loose. When was the last time she’d done that? She gave herself over to the moment, laughing with her friends.
Carrie had been giving her grief over studying too hard. With finals done, she could focus on enjoying the summer. That’s why she’d gone surfing that morning when she hadn’t in a long time—to start the summer right. It’d also worked to give a lesson.
Too bad her friends were leaving her for the summer, heading back to Michigan and Montana. All of them were at Miami on scholarship for track. Kennedy had a scholarship for her grades, but she relied on the surf shop for necessities, and she really hoped the DJ internship at the radio station could become something more after the summer.
Unfortunately, with her grandmother passing the year before, Kennedy didn’t have anywhere to go for the summer. The girls had tried to convince her to go with one of them, but she’d refused.
They had to pay for the apartment through the summer anyway, and Carrie and Jenna had both agreed they would pay half. Kennedy had insisted she would pay the other half, so she was really getting a deal.
Another fast song started, and they all kept dancing. They formed a circle with some other people out there and went all out. It took the pressure off of her. With all of them being crazy, she didn’t feel like she stood out in the crowd so much.
Carrie and Jenna pulled her out to the middle of the circle, and they did the Napoleon Dynamite dance. For some reason, they’d all practiced it and committed it to memory one weekend. It made her laugh hysterically.
Time after time, she found herself drawn back to Kyle’s green eyes. Strangely enough, every time she looked at Kyle, he was always looking at her. She tried to resist him, and she thought about what Russell had said about him cursing women. She looked at Russell and Bucky too, but things between her and Kyle felt intense. Magnetic. Their chemistry quietly simmered to a boil.
When a slow dance started, she immediately went to leave the dance floor, but Kyle was there, putting out his hand. “Will you dance with me?”
Carrie was standing behind him, and briefly, she had a ticked-off look on her face. She turned, noticed Russell, and happily rushed over to him.
That was Carrie. Even though Kennedy could tell she liked Kyle, there would be no hard feelings.
The side of Kyle’s lip turned up. “C’mon, it’s just a dance.”
The trouble was that Kennedy knew it wasn’t just a dance. She could feel it. She didn’t move, but before she could really decide, he took her hand. Not roughly, not in a you’re doing it and you have no say kind of way, just a gentle tug.
Letting herself be pulled, she made a token protest. “Hey, we’re not cavemen. You can’t just make me dance with you.”
He led her to the center of the dance floor and took her right hand, then easily put his other hand on her hip. “I did ask.”
He started into a slow two-step. A mellow song crooned something about falling in love hard and fast. She thought the song was by Sloane Kent, but she wasn’t sure. Maybe Texas Waters or Montana Crew. She loved all of them. “I never said yes,” she said, falling into step with him.
Butterflies thrummed in her gut and Kyle drew her closer. Much the same as Russell had done, he didn’t hesitate to slip his hand into hers, and he put his other hand on her waist.
Tentatively, she held her left arm in the air.
He looked at her, then her missing hand. “Hold on to me. I won’t bite you or anything.” He flashed a grin. “At least, I won’t bite too hard.”
“Ha ha. Good one.” It surprised her how these men didn’t hesitate or seem weird about her injury.
“What can I say? My cliché lines usually get a better reception.” He winked at her.
Lightly, she rested her arm on his arm. “Do you think telling me you use cliché lines is helping me like you?”
He eased up on the pressure and stared into her eyes. He sighed. “Fine, you’re good at surfing.”
His compliment made her feel warm in the center of her chest. She looked away, breaking eye contact. “Yep, even one-handed girls can be good at it, too.” She could endure this dance. Then she would go back to sitting by Russell.
Kyle scoffed. “I wasn’t talking about your hand. I don’t care about that.”
That made sense. If his best friend was Russell, then he might mean it. Still, she wasn’t comfortable thinking that, nor was she comfortable dancing so easily with this guy—the one Russell said got all the girls. She didn’t trust him.
The dance continued, and they fell into a gentle sway. She felt herself relax. One of his hands held hers, gently playing with her fingers; the other stayed on her hip. The mere pressure of him being so close to her felt like it would consume her. Her heart rate beat faster.
She tried to place the wonderful smelling cologne wafting over her. It was perfect, not too heavy. CK? Sometimes, when people would walk into the surf shop, she could smell them before she saw them. This scent suited him.
Looking up into his eyes, she saw they were already on hers. Like he was just waiting for her to look. Her mouth was dry. What was happening?
His hand on her hip traveled to the small of her back, pulling her a bit closer. “I’m glad I ran into you tonight.”
The intensity and suddenness of this connection took her off guard. Her normal reaction to meeting a new guy was keeping him at arm’s length. Truthfully, she hadn’t dated in high school. Her missing hand had been overwhelming. In college, she’d dated, but after things had fallen apart last year with her boyfriend, she hadn’t tried again.
She couldn’t do this. “Sorry, I have to go.” She broke away from him and looked for her friends, but they must have been dancing somewhere else. She couldn’t see them in the sea of couples.
“You’re seriously going to leave me during my favorite song?” he asked, standing with his feet wide and arms crossed. He looked like he could storm enemy territory.
It intimidated her, but she wasn’t one to back down. Holding her ground, she told him, “I said I’m sorry.”
“No, that doesn’t cut it.” He tried to reach for her hand.