Countdown to a Kiss

by Mara Jacobs

“Ah.” Duncan nodded knowingly. “Wild night?”

  “Can’t say for sure. But nothing ended up on Facebook, so except for the insane hangover the next day, I think I made it through relatively unscathed.”

  “Miss Manners. At a tequila shoot-out.” He tried to imagine Annabelle the debutante coed.

  “But you’re more than a book on manners, you know. You are gracious.”

  “Thank you. Isn’t that one and the same?”

  “Not at all,” he stalled while Bartender Harry and his quiver full of arrows set up a second round. “For instance,” he went on quietly as the bartender moved away, “our young friend here offered his hand to you. You know that a book of etiquette says a gentleman never offers his hand to a lady, but waits to have her hand offered to him,” he said drawing on his own cotillion experience. “And yet you don’t stand on principal. You shook his hand without pause.”

  “Well, of course. Otherwise it would have created a terribly awkward moment.”

  “Exactly my point. You were gracious. You are gracious.”

  She fed him a brilliant smile, and leaned in closer. “And you are going to get a hell of a kiss come midnight.”

  Oh, I’ll be getting more than a kiss, he promised himself, glancing at his watch discreetly. Maybe the tequila had already started talking. More likely it was Annabelle’s easy humor and the way his body simmered in a state of rapt attention wherever she touched him. And, he noted, she was touching him a lot. But most likely, it was the mounting anticipation of getting his hands on the bare flesh of all those curves covered in just the sheerest of fabrics––so sheer he swore he saw the dark coloration of the tips of her beasts when he dared allow his glance to go there. In his mind, she wore nothing underneath that dress, and he was starting to get just a little desperate to find out if he was right. Hell with a damn kiss at midnight. He wanted some time alone with Miss Devine and he wanted it as soon as he could get it.

  Chapter Six

  The bar area with its masculine wood architecture and hunter green accents had filled up nicely, and the conversations which ensued created a lovely warm hum that had Annabelle sinking cozily into their little twosome at the far end of the bar. Her body was now turned sideways in her seat, her back literally against the wall. Duncan’s frame had likewise turned towards her, and his broad shoulders and taller height blocked her vision of any guest coming or going. It was perfect.

  It was perfect how her knees fit between his and how his inner thighs would brush against her outer thighs as the two of them conversed with an extraordinary amount of animation. It was perfect how his arm laid along the back of her chair, and his fingers would stroke her bare skin from time to time. His touch created the perfect little goosebumps on the outside of her skin and the perfect blast of heat that ran itself ragged on the inside. But the most perfect thing of all was the moment right after their second shot, when they laughed and caught each other’s happy gaze. The world around them stopped, going quiet. That moment…that perfect moment…when their lips were only inches apart and her heartbeat pounded in her ears, when Duncan laced his fingers with hers and brought her hand up, turning it slowly, and placed a kiss on the sensitive skin of the inside of her wrist.

  It was romantic and subtle and stole her heart. And it was then that Annabelle realized she had better get to know a little more about her Officer Friendly if she was going to go home and announce to her sisters that she planned to marry Duncan James.

  “So growing up in Richmond, you decided to go to NC State?”

  “I didn’t have the grades to get into Chapel Hill. I figured it was the next best thing. And don’t laugh, Little Miss North Carolina. In the end, it truly was the right place for me. I met Brooks and Vance and we formed a close-knit group, bonding over our college experience. We shared a lot of good times. But more than that, they always had my back. And they still do today. Best thing that ever happened to me.”

  Annabelle loved the way he spoke about his friends and their solid relationship. “But you went to UNC for law school?”

  “Well,” Duncan said, eyeing her over a sip of water, “I’m stupid but I ain’t crazy.” She laughed. “I set my sights on law school at Carolina before I set foot on campus at NC State. I like the south, and staying in North Carolina kept me closer to home. So, my goal was to get straight A’s because I was not going to be turned down again.”

  “And you got them.”

  “I got them,” he acknowledged.

  “So are you a hard worker or are you just that smart?”

  “Well, now.” He leaned in close, his light Southern accent noticeably heavier. “I’m sitting here with you, aren’t I?”

  Annabelle bit her lip, trying not to show the pleasure that his answer gave her. “Well, unless you majored in drama, I’d say playing the part of Officer Friendly today was pretty hard work.”

  “But gettin’ you to insist I be your escort tonight…now that was brilliant.” He flashed an arrogant grin before adding, “And thanks for goin’ easy on me about all that, by the way.”

  A pang of guilt about what had really gone down threatened to intrude, but Annabelle shoved it away. Things were going too well to jeopardize the evening with a confession. “Am I detecting a slightly heavier Southern drawl?”

  Duncan sat back with his arms crossed over his chest, grinning broadly. With each word he sat up a little straighter and moved in a little closer. “I’m pretty certain that a couple of tequila shots and a pretty Southern belle could reduce me to sounding a lot more like Redneck One and Redneck Two than usual.”

  “Brooks and Vance?”

  “You catch on quick.”

  “Those two are sort of celebrities around here.”

  “And don’t I know it. They took State to three College World Series. Won one of them on a no-hitter from Brooks. Man, those guys could play.”

  “So how is it you knew you wanted to go to law school before you even started college?”

  “No choice in that.” Duncan shrugged. “I was born to it. My dad is a criminal defense attorney, and if that’s not bad enough, my mother is a judge.”

  “Your mother is a judge?” Annabelle exclaimed wide-eyed.

  “That’s right. And we aren’t talking Judge Judy, although at home she settled our disagreements about the same way, I suppose.”

  “You have brothers and sisters?” Annabelle asked, finding all of this fascinating.

  “Three sisters and one brother. I’m the oldest. Then the girls––Molly, Lacey and Abigail. Then Jesse.”

  “Your brother’s name is Jesse James?” When Duncan nodded, Annabelle laughed so hard she snorted.

  “Oh my God, that’s the first unladylike thing I’ve seen you do,” Duncan said, grinning from ear to ear. “You are a mere mortal after all, aren’t you?”

  “I am indeed,” she agreed. “Seriously, Jesse James?”

  “My parents might be lawyers, but they are lawyers with a sense of humor. And they probably needed a good reminder of that when kid number five arrived.”

  “Annabelle!” A deep-pitched baritone from the other end of the bar caused Duncan to turn. Annabelle probably wouldn’t have noticed it––so enthralled with the man in front of her––but following Duncan’s lead, she looked down the bar as tall, blond and long-ago heartthrob, Stubs McKenna started to call her name again.

  “Anna— Oh, there you are,” Stubs said as he spied her down the way. He pointed his finger at her and started muscling his way through the crowd gathered at the bar to get to them.

  Duncan’s disgruntled protest gave her great satisfaction as she assured him this would only take a minute. With eyes only for Annabelle, Stubs landed a heavy hand on Duncan’s shoulder, only acknowledging him with a quick “Hey, Bud,” before shoving his head in the space between Duncan and herself to plant a big ol’ kiss on her cheek. Annabelle was pretty sure she saw her date stiffen. Another boost to her feminine pride. “Come on now,” Stubs said, holding out his hand, “th
e band is kicking serious ass. Why are you crammed back here in the corner? You know you’re my go-to gal on the dance floor.”

  Duncan, whose arms were crossed over his chest, glanced down at Stub’s big hand sitting on his shoulder, then up into Stubs’s face as he blurted all this out. Then he rolled his eyes dramatically toward Annabelle, giving her a direct look that said, “You have got to be kidding me.”

  She winked and held up one finger to Duncan, seeking a little patience. “Well, bless your heart, Stubs,” she started, turning her full attention to the man. “How thoughtful of you to come find me when there are so many other pretty girls just dying for you to ask them to dance. In fact,” she went on, turning Stubs’s attention where she wanted it, “Katherine Stuart was asking about you the moment she arrived. See her over there, just out in the hallway?” She gave him a little push in the right direction. “Now you be the gentleman and go on and give that girl a thrill.”

  Annabelle and Duncan watched as Stubs ambled away. “Well, I’ll be,” Duncan whispered, then turned his attention back to Annabelle. “It was like you put that lummox in a trance and he didn’t have the capability not to follow your orders.”

  She took a sip of water. “Oh, he’s just a big ol’ sweetheart. Probably didn’t even realize he was intruding. Now, where were we?”

  Duncan took her hand in his and bounced it up and down. “You know, I was thinking,” he said, “you were probably an undergraduate while I was in law school at Carolina. We were on the same campus. I wonder if our paths ever crossed.”

  “I highly doubt it,” Annabelle scoffed. “Sounds like you were probably in the law library, and I have to admit, I was rarely in any library at all. I did not go to college to make the dean’s list, much to my parents’ chagrin.”

  “Is that so?” Duncan’s expression was priceless. A combination of amusement and wonder.

  “Well, of course I wanted a good education, and I got it. My only redeeming academic achievement is that I never ever missed a class. Which I repeatedly pointed out to my father whenever he started ranting and raving about my grades and the cost of tuition. I assured him I was getting his money’s worth, and I did. More than most students, because I filled every hour with a group or club. There were just too many enticing activities and too much stuff to learn to justify spending more than the minimal amount of time necessary studying for tests.”

  “Is that a fact? So what sorts of things, pray tell, enticed the youngest Devine sister?”

  “Basketball. I wanted to make sure I got inside the Dean Dome for every home game, so I finagled a job babysitting the VIP alumni. You know, show them to their seats, make sure they have everything they could want, schmooze them into bigger donations.” She flashed him a cheeky smile. “I was good at that.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  “Then, of course, the sorority. Which has become my career. I’m our acting Field Representative for all the Atlantic Coast colleges, keeping all the garish behavior of uninspired coeds out of the public’s eye. I’ve become very good at putting out fires,” she smirked.

  “And inspiring better behavior?”

  “They don’t call me Keeper of the Debutantes for nothing. But back in college I served as Rush Chairman, was our Panhellenic Delegate junior year and then was the Philanthropy Chair. Other than that…” She sighed, thinking, counting the rest out on her fingers as she spoke, “I participated in the Synchronized Swim Club, the French Club, the Auto Mechanics Club, and then all the usual. You know, Habitat for Humanity, Big Sisters of Durham, and Santa Claus Anonymous.”

  Duncan stared at her blankly. “Is my head actually spinning? Because who the hell knew there was synchronized swimming and I just can’t picture you in the Auto Mechanics Club to save my life!”

  “And yet, you’ve seen the car I drive.”

  “Good point.”

  Archibald Reynolds jostled his way up to them, looking like he’d been on a roll shaking hands and kissing babies all night. “Hey there, Buddy,” he said taking Duncan’s hand and shaking it. “How you doin’?” The expression suited whether he was supposed to know the person he was addressing or not. Duncan didn’t appear to be amused. Especially when Archie turned his back on Duncan, essentially blocking him from Annabelle. “Now you know, sugar, if you sit in this corner all night your momma’s party is just gonna roll over and play dead. Sweetheart, you need to come with me and be seen on the dance floor. Now don’t try and tell me no.”

  Noticing Duncan’s hand landing on Archie’s shoulder, Annabelle gestured. “May I introduce my date,” she said quickly as Duncan spun Archie around. “Archie, this is Duncan James. He’s a good friend of Brooks Bennett and Vance Evans. Duncan, this is Archibald Reynolds, a family friend.”

  Duncan eyed Archie as the other man’s whiskey came dangerously close to sloshing over the rim of his glass. “Brooks, you say? Well, any friend of Brooks…” He turned back to Annabelle. “Find me later on, honey, and I’ll give you a twirl.” With that, he downed the last of his bourbon, toasted the couple with his empty glass and brought it down heavily on the bar in between them. He scooped his long blond bangs out of his face before turning and dissolving into the crowd.

  “Give you a twirl?” Duncan squinted. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “I’m sure he meant a twirl on the dance floor.”

  “Yeah. Right.” After holding her gaze, Duncan rubbed his jaw, glancing around the room. “I have to give you credit, Annabelle Devine. You sure know how to handle the awkward social situation.”

  “Well, as the expression goes, ‘This ain’t my first rodeo’.”

  “Ha,” Duncan let out a short laugh. “I bet. Seems about time to order up a real drink. Bourbon and Ginger?”

  “That’d be perfect,” Annabelle said, realizing how utterly tempting he looked now that the polished sheen had worn off. His hair was a little tousled and the color in his cheeks had risen. He’d unbuttoned his jacket and didn’t look disheveled as much as loose. Or, was that his body spoiling for a fight? A tiny thrill rent its way through her, from front to back. Her breath hitched thinking about his annoyance at the interruptions. Dear Lord, there was something about this combination of impeccable manners and male aggression that had her softening into very malleable putty, longing to be in his hands.

  Heaven help her, she was getting turned on just thinking about it.

  When Harry the magical bartender delivered their drinks, Duncan handed him a tip and then lifted Annabelle’s glass to her. As she sipped, he seemed to be trying to figure out something. Finally he tilted his bottled beer, took a swig, and then pointed it at her.

  “You’ve given me something to think about, Annabelle. Something to look at differently than I have ever before.”

  “Really? What’s that?”

  “Something you said about your college experience. The way you looked at it. See,” he said, glancing around the crowded room again before resting his gaze back on her. “I joined the Phi Deltas for a lot of reasons, but one of them truly was their motto: ‘Become the greatest version of yourself.’ To me, it seemed, I had already embraced that. Get the straight A’s. Leave no question about getting into law school. Throw in civility, loyalty, respect for women and elders, that kind of thing, done. But you,” he said, pointing the tip of his bottle toward her again, “you went and explored everything you could get your hands on. You…” he said thoughtfully, “you didn’t let grades get in the way of your education. There!” he congratulated himself. “That’s it.”

  “I had no use for grades because I wasn’t going to law school. Or med school. Or any sort of graduate school. So, I had the luxury.”

  “Indeed. And now you can, what? Speak French?”

  “Mais, oui!”

  “And build a car from the ground up?”

  “Maybe…with the proper tools.”

  He spread his arms wide. “And you’re funny and clever and not only Keeper of the Debutantes, but the sorority gir
ls as well. And,” he said, “apparently you are a hell of a dancer because it seems everybody and their brother wants to give you a twirl.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “No, I mean…oh, crap.”

  It was all the warning she could give before another hand landed hard on his shoulder, and another good ol’ boy called him Buddy.

  “Hey, Bud-dy!” Tucker Davenport put a big ee sound on the end of his greeting and Annabelle wasn’t sure if that was what set Duncan off or whether it was the fact that he’d been knocked so hard his beer splashed out of the bottle. “Annabelle,” Tucker said as he circled her wrist with his hand pulling her off her chair, “you’ve played wallflower long enough and it’s time to come––”

  Tucker stopped short when a large hand landed flat, hard and square in the center of his chest. He looked down at the hand, and then at the man attached to it.

  “Release. My. Date.”

  Annabelle had never heard three words promise more. She actually had to choke back a laugh at the expression on Tucker’s face. Tucker, who had a good fifty pounds on Duncan, looked as if a gun was being held to his head. In fact, after he released her wrist, he held both hands up and backed away.

  Duncan said nothing more. The incident seemed to go unnoticed by anyone except the three of them. They both eyed Tucker until he finally turned and picked his way through the room and out the door. Hearing his long release of breath, Annabelle glanced up at Duncan.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Never. Been. Better,” she said slowly and honestly, looking him straight in the eye. It was the best she could do to convey that he’d just handed her one of the biggest thrills of her life.

  If his smile was any indication, he understood. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Well then,” he breathed, taking her by the hand. “Let’s take these drinks and head on over to the dance floor. Maybe that will keep the goddamn vultures at bay.”

  Chapter Seven

  It didn’t escape Duncan’s notice that Annabelle had to bite her lips to keep from smiling too big. Well, good, he thought as he led her through the bar. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass her or himself. But he’d be damned if he was going to step aside tonight. Not for one minute was he willing to give up his time with Annabelle. He certainly hadn’t intended to go all Neanderthal on her father’s guests, but he was not about to step the fuck aside. Not now. Not ever.