Summer Breeze Kisses

by Addison Moore

  “My God, what a paradise we’ve stumbled upon!” Harper manically peruses the selections. “Fruit pies, cream pies, specialty pies, cheesecake pies!” She looks up at me, and I’m stunned at how cuttingly gorgeous she is. Harper can easily be a supermodel if she wanted. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she is one. “Have we died and gone to heaven?”

  “If your definition of heaven consists of a variety of half-priced pies, then yes, we have very much arrived.” A part of me wants to tell her she belongs here. She looks like an angel.

  “Yes.” She pushes in close to my chest as we wait for our number to be called. “So, how many do we want to get?”

  I step back with a laugh and reflexively my arm swivels around her waist. “I’m glad you asked how many and not which one.” My affect darkens as I glance to the selection. “Janelle hated pies, so we never did this.”

  “What?” Her hands land over my chest as her eyes fill with outrage. “Only soulless people don’t like pie! Everybody loves pie. There’s a pie for every person on this planet. What’s not to love?”

  “I feel the exact same way.” My hand drops lower without meaning to and I accidentally graze her bottom. “Sorry.” I hold my arms up a moment.

  “Don’t be.” She reaches up and places my hands square on her hips. “I think we should take advantage of every public moment with a display of affection.” Her bottom lip tugs down a moment. “Even if it is false. I mean, it couldn’t hurt, right?”

  “No.” I take a step in and fall into her marbled green-brown eyes. “It couldn’t hurt.” But a pain sears through my chest like maybe it might.

  They call our number and we load up on five pies, no thanks to some last-minute indecisiveness.

  We climb into the truck and laugh all the way home at our culinary haul. Harper and I unload the groceries in less than three trips. She lines the pies up along the island while I set out our edible treasures for us to inspect.

  “Where do we start?” I ask as I step back beside her.

  “How about we throw a pizza into the oven, and while that’s cooking, we enjoy some caviar and sparkling water?”

  A smile twitches on my lips. Harper Shelton has a body that looks like it was designed by Ferrari and a mind that perfectly meshes with my own. If I didn’t know better, I’d say fate just threw me the ideal woman.

  “Sounds like the perfect start to the perfect evening.” We put away the rest of the groceries and I pull out a couple of champagne flutes Trixie gave me.

  “I’ll grab the cheese and crackers—the caviar, of course.”

  “I’ve got the fake bubbly.” I hold up the green bottle and glasses as we head over to the sofa. I flip on the TV, not really paying attention to where it lands, and both Harper and I sit so close our legs are touching.

  “You do this often?” She hands me the caviar, and I pop it open before pouring us each a glass full of sparkling goodness.

  “Only on days that end in Y.” I touch my glass to hers, and the sound of the crystal chiming makes Fish look up from his slumber.

  “You wish.” She hands me a cracker, and we both dip into the tiny reserve of sturgeon eggs. “On three.” Her lips part, revealing that glossy pink tongue of hers, and my mouth waters on cue. “Three.”

  We pop the crackers into our mouths at once, and I savor the feel of the caviar detonating onto my tongue.

  “I love it when it pops like that,” I grunt with approval. “So, where’d you grow up? You a Bel Terra girl?” If she is, I haven’t seen her around.

  “Nope. Hollow Meadows.” She wrinkles her nose as if she disapproved of her upright, uptight upbringing. “Boarding school whole nine years. I’m still close to my sister and brother, though. Harley will be at Briggs next year, and Henry’s finished his graduate work. He’s not exactly able to join the workforce, so he’s working on a book—a joke book.” Her cheeks darken as if embarrassed for him. “He’s a great guy. You’d like him. He loves pie.”

  “Sounds like we’d get along. So, your mother’s the artist, huh? You mentioned she had her work in a gallery?”

  “She couldn’t get in one, so she did the only sensible thing a socialite can do—she bought one.” She shovels in another cracker with a healthy mountain of caviar, and her eyes roll to the ceiling.

  My boxers start to knock against my jeans. If Harper keeps having food orgasms, I might be moved to excuse myself to catch a little relief.

  She clears her throat before taking a quick sip. “I bet all the cheerleaders are sure glad you’re single. Are they knocking down the door yet?”

  “No. They all think I’m in a relationship with you, remember?” I give a sly wink before downing my drink.

  “So—at the supermarket you mentioned something about your mom.” Her brows flex with worry. Harper grows quiet and shrugs her shoulders as if she couldn’t get the rest of the question out.

  “Oh yeah, it’s fine. I can talk about it. Trix and I were just kids when it happened. We didn’t really understand what was going on. All I knew was that Saturdays were spent at Mom’s new home, a correctional facility a couple hours from where we lived. She essentially took the fall for something my father did with his company. It wasn’t anything either of them could help, but when she got out, they were pretty much done. It was tough, but we powered through it. She remarried last summer to Lawson’s dad.”

  “Oh!” Her eyes brighten the color of springtime, and I get caught in their spell a moment. “So that’s the connection, yes.” She flicks off her shoes and brings her feet underneath her. And there she is—spread eagle in those tiny little shorts, and my gaze darts south without meaning to.

  “My eyes are up here, honey.” She blinks up at me as I meet with their gaze.

  “Sorry.” That I got caught.

  “That you got caught.”

  As soon as the words leave her mouth, we share a laugh.

  “So tell me something about yourself.” I study the curve of her cheek, nothing but a sheer cliff. I’ve never seen cheekbones that high. “Something nobody else knows about you.”

  “You’re into secrets, huh?” She bites down on that full, luscious lip, and my boxers perk to life. “I’m afraid of heights.” She shrugs it off as if it’s no big deal. “But who isn’t, right?”

  “Me.” I give a slight wink and she swats me over the knee. Something in me cinches at the thought of being swatted by Harper.

  “Seriously. Half the people in the world are. It’s not some obscure phobia or anything. Just don’t make any plans to drive me to the nearest ledge and expect me to throw my arms in the air and scream I’m the king of the world. Not happening.”

  “Duly noted. Anything else?”

  “I love to stuff my face with gummy bears.” Her eyes dip to my crotch as if I’ve got a big one tucked out of sight. And hell, I wish I did. “I’m also part Blackfoot Indian on my father’s side. People think that’s something.”

  “That just upped your cool factor by two hundred percent.” That must be where the stunning bone structure comes from, that smooth honey skin.

  Her brows hike into her forehead. “Just two hundred?”

  “Two fifty.”

  We share a quiet laugh, and an awkward lull hits the conversation.

  “So that kiss.” She takes a deep breath. “I mean, wow—are you always that much of a powerhouse, or were you pulling out all the stops for me? Inquiring minds want to know.” Her leg grazes over mine, and something quickens in me at the touch of her skin.

  “That was me on half-speed. You ain’t seen nothing yet.” I give a sly wink, but my face heats at the idea I just brazenly set it out there like that.

  “I’ll admit, I’m a little rusty.” Her cheeks brighten like cherries. “It’s been a while since Justin and I did just about anything.” She swallows hard, and I can’t help but lean in and close the gap between us.

  “Rusty, huh?” My finger glides down her cheek, soft as summer rain. “Maybe we should practice a little, j
ust to make sure you’ve got your A game when it’s show time.”

  “Right.” She sets down her glass as her face continues to darken. “I’d hate to zig and for you to zag. Our noses could collide and we’d be a laughing stock.”

  A moment bounces by with our eyes locked over one another, and the air grows electric between us. “I wouldn’t want for that to happen.”

  She glances to the kitchen. “I think we have a few minutes before the pizza is done. Maybe we should make the best of it?”

  I pull her over my lap, my breathing already erratic, and for a second our eyes widen in tandem. Harper looks like someone who stepped out of the pages of a magazine, an exotic creature, something unearthly. When I saw her for the first time a few weeks back, I remember thinking she can’t be real—and here she is, mounting me like we’re about to get it on.

  “Those lips,” I whisper as I press her head down to mine. Our mouths fuse together, wet and hot while her hips land over mine, putting all her weight into it. This time my body perks to life and I don’t stop it. Don’t want to.

  Harper is a master in my mouth, dominating it in the very best way. Her cool hands float up my shirt, and the feel of her skin touching over mine drives a thick groan up my throat. We kiss for what feels like hours, ten blissful weeks. My hands tug at her hair, rake up and down her back as I press her body over mine. Harper has a body, a woman’s body with curves in all the right places. My hands float down to her hips and I give a gentle squeeze, just begging to drive her down over me like a ragdoll. I want her. Hell, my body needs her. Our kisses grow more erratic, messier by the moment, and just as I’m about to flip her onto the couch and take her, the smoke alarm goes off.

  We pull apart abruptly, her lips bloated and red with fury.

  “I’d better take care of that.” I head to the kitchen and shove a broom handle at the alarm, slapping the crap out of it until it shuts the hell up. Then soon after I head into the bathroom and do the same to my man parts. I can’t help it. I’m a guy with basic needs and having a girl as beautiful as Harper jumping up and down on my lap, doling out those hot and heavy kisses can only lead to one thing. I take a quick shower and show up in the living room once again with a sheepish grin on my face.

  “Is it time for pie?” She bites down on her lower lip, looking cute as hell.

  “It’s always time for pie.”

  The weekend melts by and no sign of Harper on Saturday. By Sunday night, I figure I’ve crossed the line and she wants nothing more to do with me. We ate our way through the night and half the food was gone when she left, so no need to come back for seconds. What was I thinking kissing her like that? Letting her ride my lap as if we had already crested all the proper bases? She felt my hard-on. There’s not even a question about that. I freaked her out. She probably thinks I’ve rigged that Justin-Janelle hookup just to scam off her this entire time. Harper is beautiful enough that men should devise such schemes in order to get one of those kisses she doles out. I’m back to the maxim I had since day one—she’s too beautiful to be real.

  I’m at the Black Bear when Forest shows up, and I about have a heart attack seeing his face anywhere but the office.

  “I was just having dinner with a client.” He slaps me over the shoulder. “Hey, didn’t I give you the Capwell file?”

  “Yes, you did.” I can’t help but frown at his overtly orange spray tan, his day-glow white teeth. He’s got his pressed suit on, his shiny loafers, and he looks as if he belongs anywhere but a college bar. A thousand bucks says he’s here picking up on the coeds.

  “Good. I’ll introduce you. They’re both here.” He gives a quick look around. “No date, huh? Going through a dry spell?”

  “Sort of.” I’m not about to confess my boner problems to what amounts to my boss.

  “You need to get on that piece we’ve got working down at the office.” He blows out a breath as if taking in a fine wine. “She’s single. I asked.”

  The dude had better not be talking about Harper. A violent fury infiltrates my bones and the sudden urge to snap his spine hits me. “Harper and I are just friends. She’s just getting over a breakup.” Not sure why I went there.

  “So she’s vulnerable.” His brows pitch as if he’s getting a few bright—read lousy ideas. “That means she’s prime for the picking.”

  A couple walks past us and leans in to wave.

  “Hey”—he pulls them in—“Ryder, Laney, this is…” He squints into me for help, and for a moment I’m tempted to let him flounder.

  “Knox Toberman.” I stand up and shake both their hands. The dude looks beefy like maybe he played a sport in his prime, and the woman is a petite brunette who looks shockingly familiar.

  “That’s it.” Forest shoots me with his finger. “Foxy Knoxy here will be showing you around next week.”

  “That’s great!” the girl bubbles with excitement. “I’d better get back to work.” She winks my way. “I’m super excited to get started with this!”

  She takes off, and thankfully so does Forest.

  “She works here.” Ryder ticks his head toward the bar, and suddenly it’s clear why I was vaguely associating her with nachos. “You look familiar.” Ryder winces as he inspects me.

  “You might know Rex, my older brother. He’s the quarterback for the Mustangs.”

  “Ah, that must be it.” He points to the seat before me and I nod.

  “By all means.” We take a seat and he makes light chitchat about college life, the team, and he straightens for a second.

  “Wait a minute. I just figured out where I know you from. Right here at the bar. You were getting a burrito bath while making out with some chick. That’s where I know you.” He wags a congratulatory finger at me. “So, what’s the backstory?”

  Laney drops a basket of chips and salsa by the table and we dive right in.

  I tell Ryder about Janelle, about the brutal way I was exposed to her cheating ways. I give a quick rundown on how Harper and I ended up in that lip-lock sans the dirty details of our arrangement.

  “That’s brutal.” He drops his chip and leans back into his chair, stunned as if someone just shot his dog.

  “It was brutal. I’m glad it’s behind me.” Is it behind me? In a strange way, it feels like it is.

  “And what about Janelle?” He tips his head. “Does any part of you wish you were still together?”

  “No,” I spit it out quickly like venom. “She’s in the rearview mirror and I’m not looking back. I want no part of that insanity.”

  “What about that kiss you and Harper shared?” He leans in as if this just gets better, and in a way it does. “Do you think there’s something there?”

  I think on it a moment. “I don’t know.” I’d better not pour my broken heart over the table. The dude is just being nice. He didn’t sign up for a psychiatry session. “No, we’re just friends.” Ryder may as well be my boss. I’m pretty sure drawing a line in the sand is a good idea. “Harper’s actually my partner at the realty center. She’ll be helping us find you a new home come next week. This whole thing we got going is just a ploy to get back at our exes. We really can’t stand one another.” Okay, so I may have taken it too far.

  Ryder scans me as if looking for traces of bull. “I hear you.” He gets up and gives my hand a firm shake. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Will do.” I watch as he takes off, and that question he tossed out comes storming to the forefront of my brain.

  Is there something between Harper and me? Could there be?

  Before I can give it any serious thought, Rush comes in with someone unfamiliar, along with Eli holding up the rear.

  “What’s up, dude?” Rush slaps me five as the three of them take a seat. “This is Seth, my soon-to-be brother in-law, or something like that. My brother and his sister are engaged.”

  “Nice. The more family the merrier.” I mean that. I actually appreciate my stepsiblings.

  Laney comes by and we put i
n our orders. While Eli and Seth talk basketball, Rush takes the opportunity to lean in. “So, what’s up with you and Shelton?” he whispers for my ears only.

  “Nothing’s up.”

  Rush leans back with that preppy swagger of his. He’s donned his signature polo, his best jeans, and I can tell he didn’t just come to the Black Bear to hang out with the boys. Rush has serious game when it comes to the girls and he’s not in it to lose. I don’t think I’ve met anyone who’s bedded more chicks than Rushford Knight and not had their pecker fall off. He’s essentially every father’s and brother’s worst nightmare.

  “I don’t believe you. Want to know why?” He pulls out his phone and there I am in bed, shirtless with a very hot as hell Harper Shelton exuding lust for the camera.

  “It’s all a show.”

  “A damn convincing show.”

  A crowd comes in behind him, Lucky and Lawson, Ava and Grant, and they pull up seats at the table.

  Rush leans in, that greedy grin expanding on his face. “You were looking for her.”

  “So what if I was.”

  “Dude, I could see the disappointment on your face when she didn’t show.” He smacks me over the arm. “You’re getting in too deep. You either want her or you don’t. Figure it out.”

  “Figure it out.” I glance down to the other end of the table where Lawson has his arm draped around Lucky, Grant has assumed the same position with Ava. Maybe I just miss that? The casual nature of having someone by your side. I glance around the bar, trying to picture myself with any one of these girls, the blondes, the redheads, the laughing brunettes, and yet each time I envision myself with them, their faces slowly morph into Harper’s.

  I spend the next hour drifting in and out of the conversation at hand—my mind, my heart, and my entire body drifting back to that girl with those incredible kisses, Harper Shelton. And then it hits me like a pickax through the forehead.

  Hell yes, I want her.

  A dull smile comes to my lips.

  Who the hell wouldn’t want Harper Shelton?

  Hearts Aquiver