Countdown To A Kiss (A New Year's Eve Anthology)

by Mara Jacobs

  Chapter One

  New Year’s Eve - Noon

  “So how many laws are we about to break?”

  Duncan James couldn’t help but smile. Sitting shotgun in his best friend Brooks Bennett’s police cruiser, he’d been mulling over that question himself ever since they’d pulled off the road, lying in wait for the target of their bet. He glanced over at Brooks’s long, lanky frame comfortable in the police uniform after six years on the job. “Why are you asking me?” Duncan said. “You’re the cop.”

  “And you’re the lawyer.” Brooks folded his arms over his chest, turned his head and allowed a broad and engaging grin to expand under his mirrored sunglasses and short cropped curly bronze hair. He chomped on his gum a few times before admitting, “Nah, we’re in the clear. Mr. Devine gave us his blessing. He knows darn well his baby Annabelle needs to slow herself down a peg on these back roads. You met Harry Devine about a month ago at the Club, remember? Same night we arranged this bet.”

  “And I’m looking forward to meeting his baby Annabelle who has curled you and Vance around her little finger. This is going to be like taking candy from a baby. And I’m talking about you and Vance, not Miss Devine.”

  “You, my fancy friend, are about to meet your comeuppance.”

  Duncan shook his head and glanced out at the pine trees surrounding them. His golden eyes narrowed at the artfully tousled hairstyle he saw reflected in the side-view mirror. He supposed he was fancy compared to his buddies. Neither of them would ever spend any real money on a haircut or shoes or be caught dead wearing a cashmere coat. But this entire week between Christmas and New Year’s had been unseasonably cold for North Carolina and he wanted to look official without actually impersonating an officer. “It just can’t be that hard to give a woman a speeding ticket. Seriously. I know you’ve said she’s a hottie and all. But it’s your job to give tickets. And between you and Vance, you’ve stopped this woman how many times?”

  “Well it’s not that easy when you’ve known the girl all your life. Maybe it will be easier for you.”

  “Damn right it’s gonna be easier for me. I don’t care how hot she is, or if she pouts her lips and claims she’s racing home to a dying relative. This Annabelle Devine is going down. And you and Vance will be paying my bar tabs for all of next year.”

  Brooks’s grumbled curse was cut off by the hearty sound of Vance’s voice coming over the police scanner. “Just spotted Baby D looping around the exit ramp off 85 revving her engines and heading for home.”

  “Affirmative,” Brooks responded. Then he threw a mischievous grin at Duncan. “Buckle up. It’s show time,” he said as he started the cruiser. They waited patiently until the custom-made, wide-bodied, motor roaring, fire-engine red Camaro flew by.

  “Holy shit,” Duncan whispered.

  Brooks pulled out in hot pursuit, spraying gravel as his tires fought for purchase. “What kind of a woman drives a car like that?” Duncan breathed. He tightened his seatbelt as Brooks hit the siren and they began to gain speed. The Camaro was nothing but an elusive red dot at the end of Duncan’s vision. “How the hell are we going to catch her?”

  “We’ll catch her. Eventually. I know where she lives.” Brooks punched the gas pedal.

  Duncan was thrown back in his seat, but he kept his eyes trained on the dot on the horizon. “How fast is she going?” He glanced over at the speedometer. “Holy hell, how fast are we going?”

  “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

  It took a good ninety seconds for the cruiser to start gaining ground. The brief flash of brake lights and gradual slow-down indicated when the driver realized they were behind her. Eventually, a pale, slender arm ventured out the window, waving them around.

  “Does she think you’re heading to an emergency? Not pulling her over?’

  “She knows I’m pulling her over.”

  “Ah. Her tactics already at work, I see.”

  Eventually the muscle-bound Camaro slowed to a stop and they pulled up behind it on the shoulder of the road. Duncan could not take his eyes off the souped-up machine and imagined the driver with tattoos and body piercings, dyed black hair and skull and crossbones jewelry. None of which he found particularly hot. This was going to be a cakewalk.

  Brooks threw the car into park and said, “Okay Dunc, you’re on. The bet is you have to give Annabelle a full-blown speeding ticket. No letting her off with just a warning to make yourself her hero. If you manage that, we pick up your bar tab anytime we’re together over the next year.”

  “Here and in Raleigh,” Duncan clarified.

  “Here and Raleigh.” Brooks nodded. “In addition, if she meets Vance at the courthouse and actually pays this fake ticket, whatever money changes hands you get to keep.”

  Imagining how the scene was going to play out, Duncan nodded, cleared his throat and reached for the door handle. Then he stopped. “Give me your glasses.” Brooks handed them over and Duncan exited the car in one graceful move. He donned the mirrored shades, turned up the collar of his coat and pulled a pair of black leather gloves out of his pocket. He squared his shoulders and applied his gloves like he was strapping on a gun belt and heading for a showdown.

  As he approached, a flurry of activity caught his attention through the Camaro’s rear window. What the hell is she doing? Brushing her hair? Putting on lipstick? As if he were going to fall prey to her heavily mascaraed feminine wiles. Even if body piercings were his thing, he had a bet to win. A very simple bet. All he had to do was give the speed demon a ticket. In his mind, he was already regaling their fraternity brothers at NC State’s next Homecoming about besting Brooks and Vance.

  Duncan rapped his knuckles on the driver’s side window like he’d done this a million times. When the electric window slid down, he put both his gloved hands on the sill of the door and leaned down to get a good look at the driver.

  “Danica Patrick, I presume?”

  Annabelle Devine’s endorsement-ready smile broke wide as she tossed the curling ends of her Pretty Woman mass of red hair over one shoulder. Her spontaneous laugh drew Duncan in, and when she pulled off her designer shades, her bright brown eyes and fresh-faced beauty shocked the hell out of him. Where was the nose ring? She was nothing like he’d pictured.

  “And you must be Officer Friendly,” she drawled.

  Quick-witted too!

  An unbidden grin crept to life as Duncan leaned in a little closer. “Good a name as any, I suppose,” he said, his brain starting to panic. He’d planned to play Bad Cop, but suddenly he found he didn’t have it in him. His libido argued that Officer Friendly could give tickets too. “Do you have any idea how fast you were going?”

  Annabelle placed one manicured hand over his right glove. “Now, Officer. My daddy is waitin’ on me at home just up the road not five minutes from here. And if you’ll indulge me, I’ll tell you that he and Mother throw a big New Year’s Eve ball every year at the Country Club and he relies on me to help him oversee the set-up. Mother can get a little over-zealous with the decor, making it just a teensy bit gaudy, if you know what I mean. Daddy relies on me to be the go-between. I’m sure you can understand. If I’m able to play my part, the entire family arrives at the ball in a good mood and there are no awkward moments for our guests. Now,” she said, tilting her head and batting her long, long lashes, “I know you don’t want me to be late and disappoint my daddy.”

  Duncan found her Southern accent charming. And her evasive maneuvers entertaining.

  “Miss Devine.” When the sparkle in her eyes shifted from amusement to curiosity, he said, “Yes, I know your name. In fact, you’ve become rather infamous. So infamous that it might be more appropriate to call me Special Agent Friendly, because I’ve been called in to make sure the Henderson Police Department ends the year on a high note.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You seem to have friends in high places, Miss Devine. And although you’ve been pulled over on this very road many times during t
he last twelve months, you’ve never actually been given a speeding ticket. Isn’t this true?”

  Annabelle patted his gloved hand. “Oh, you misunderstand, I’m sure. I may have been stopped by Lieutenant Evans or Lieutenant Bennett once or twice, but that wasn’t about speeding tickets. That was about catching up.”

  “Catching up?”

  “You know how it is in a small town,” she went on. “I live an hour away in Raleigh now, but I was born and raised in Henderson, just like Lieutenants Evans and Bennett. In fact, they are both my sister Tess’s age. Do you know either of my sisters, Special Agent Friendly?”

  Duncan chuckled at the name. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

  “Well, I’d be happy to introduce you. Vance and Brooks like to pull me over whenever I’m coming to town so they can hear all about what my sisters are doing. My life isn’t very exciting, as you can probably tell, but Tess and Grace are living fabulously exciting lives. Tess is an actress on Broadway. I mean who-the-heck in Henderson has ever done that? And Grace, well she works for the FBI and I’d tell you more but then…you know…”

  “You’d have to kill me.”

  “Exactly,” she grinned, tapping his hand again. “I like you, Special Agent Friendly. Seems to me you’d know how to have a good time.”

  And he was more than certain that the very quick and clever third Devine sister knew how to have a very good time. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Please do. So you see, I may have been stopped a couple of times, but it was all very social. No tickets needed.”

  “Are you telling me this is the one and only time, all year, you’ve flown down this road in this fine piece of machinery and created a sonic boom?”

  Annabelle sighed deeply and looked around the interior of her car, caressing the leather of the steering wheel. “She is a beauty, isn’t she?” she asked, returning her gaze to Duncan’s face.

  Duncan couldn’t help it. He stared directly into Annabelle’s eyes and told the truth. “Never seen anything prettier.”

  Annabelle ducked her head shyly and bit her lip. With her pale skin, rosy cheeks, pearl stud earrings and rose-scented perfume, she was the epitome of lady-like grace. Duncan felt the urge to pull off his glove and tangle his hand in all that red hair. From there, it was easy to imagine tilting her head and bringing her lips up to meet his.

  Whoa. Head in the game, man.

  A bit of panic floated around his chest. With thoughts like that this bet was going to go south on him fast. He looked back toward Brooks in an effort to fight the distraction caused by the dichotomy of the seriously pimped-out muscle car and the elegant, astute Southern belle sitting behind the wheel.

  He cleared his throat, stood up straight and got back to business. “Your seat belt is fastened,” he noted. “The car is obviously in good condition. Is there any sort of emergency I need to know about?”

  Annabelle stuttered. “You mean…other than my daddy?”

  “License and registration, please.”

  “Seriously?” Annabelle had the audacity to look appalled.

  “Miss Devine. It’s noon. Your father’s party starts at what time? Eight o’clock? I’m afraid that does not constitute an emergency.”

  He loved how she hesitated just a moment before leaning over and opening her glove compartment. Clearly, capitulating was not sitting well with her. He almost had to smile, deducing she was too well-brought-up to put up much more of a fight when she was so clearly in the wrong. He watched the cascade of red hair fall over her shoulder and how she tucked it behind her ear as she daintily handed him a small leather portfolio. She glanced up at him briefly, then back to the portfolio. “Everything should be in order.”

  “Thank you. I’m going to put your information into our computer to see just how many social chats you’ve had over the last year.”

  “Is this really necessary?” she asked meekly. Obviously, the fear of a big fat speeding ticket was finally seeping in.

  “Just sit tight. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes and get you on your way to Daddy.”

  With a distraught little pout, Annabelle said in a small voice, “I appreciate that, Officer.”

  Duncan’s heart twisted. He’d never felt more like a bully. He tapped her portfolio against his other glove. Standing there. On the brink. Teetering.

  The only sound registering was that of his heart pounding in his ears.

  Finally, he turned toward Brooks and the patrol car, issuing orders to his legs. Right, left, right, left…that’s it. Keep going. All the way back to safety. He didn’t trust himself around pretty pouty baby Annabelle for one more minute. He opened the door and launched himself inside.

  “How’d it go?” Brooks asked.

  Duncan turned his entire body to face his so-called friend. “You have got to be kidding me!” he launched. “Hot? A hottie? That’s how you describe a work of art?”

  “A work of what?”

  “You’re an idiot, you know that? You and Vance. You two had me thinking Annabelle Devine was a––I don’t know…the kind of girl Vance likes to pick up late at night at Spanky’s. That girl,” he said pointing out the windshield. “That girl is drop-dead gorgeous. The quintessential Southern belle. She’s charming, she’s witty…my God, she’s just as well-bred as she can be, physically, socially and mentally.”

  Brooks started to talk but choked on his own words as he heard the last part of Duncan’s tirade. Sputtering, he coughed out, “What the hell did you just say?”

  “She’s the one. She’s the one I’m going to marry.”

  The two men just stared at each other. Duncan pissed off, and Brooks looking like he’d swallowed a lizard.

  Finally Duncan broke the silence. “How much is the ticket?”

  Brooks’s mouth just opened and closed under wide, stunned eyes.

  “The fine, you son-of-a-bitch. What’s the fine for traveling at the speed of light?”

  “Three hundred dollars.”

  Duncan moved his head rapidly in a set of short nods. “Give me the ticket book.” As he took it, he glanced out the windshield to find Annabelle climbing out of her vehicle and heading toward them. It was December 31, colder than should ever be allowed in North Carolina, and his future bride was dressed in a tiny slip of white material that barely covered her torso, much less her arms and legs.

  Duncan looked over at Brooks with a roll of his eyes. “Been nice if you had told me she was insane.” He leapt out of the squad car and rushed forward, taking his coat off as quickly as possible.

  “I know it gets hot in those race cars, Danica,” he joked as he reached her at the halfway mark, “but it’s twenty-eight degrees out here in this crazy cold snap and you’re dressed for a summer wedding.” He flung his coat behind her and then brought it up over each of her bare shoulders. Grabbing a lapel in each hand, he pulled them together to securely wrap her killer body inside the warmth of the thin, soft cashmere. He knew it was a killer body because she’d stumbled forward as he wrapped her up, landing firmly against him from chest to thigh. His higher brain congratulated him on his dumb luck. He could not have planned this any better. His legs were slightly apart and her pale pink heels nestled right in between his loafers. Instinctively his arms went around her and rubbed up and down her back, trying to warm her as they stood together in the elements.

  Appearing a bit flustered, Annabelle looked down at the lack of space between them and then up into his eyes. He was all of six feet, but the look she gave him made him feel a helluva lot taller. “I know I look ridiculous, but there is an explanation,” she whispered.

  “There is? I’d love to hear it. First, let’s get you back into your car. You can roll down the window a couple of inches and tell me.”

  Now Duncan stood outside without a coat, but at least he had on a sweater, button-down and wool pants. He crossed his arms over his chest and shuffled from foot to foot. Annabelle turned on her car, cranked up the heat, then roll
ed down her window and passed his coat back to him. He quickly put it back on.

  “You warm enough in there? Roll the window back up. Just leave it open a crack so I can hear you.” She did as she was told.

  “I just came from a photo shoot for work,” she explained, her chin slanted up so her voice would carry out of the car. “We had to wear white.”

  Duncan shook his head like he was trying to clear cobwebs. “And that explains the lack of a coat, hat, gloves and scarf how?”

  “Well, clearly I was not anticipating stopping between there and my parents’ house.”

  “Clearly.” Duncan took a deep breath. “Okay, Miss Devine––”

  “Please, call me Annabelle. That was awfully nice of you to lend me your coat.” Annabelle glanced down at her lap, and after a moment turned her head to the side and smiled at him. “Sort of makes you an officer and a gentleman.”

  Duncan’s heart skipped two beats. “My pleasure…Annabelle.”

  There was a moment then. A long, slow, moment that Duncan would reflect back on in private. A moment when the weather and the car and the bet with his buddies all evaporated and nothing was left except the two of them, smiling at one another. Everything went blank. So when the thought entered his head, it came like the roar of thunder.

  I’ve found you.

  Annabelle broke the spell first, shyly glancing down and then back up. “Is that Brooks Bennett in the car with you? I think if we could just get him involved, he may be able to help sort all this out.”

  “Brooks?” Duncan leaned down as close as he could to the window. He lowered his voice indicating the game had changed. “Brooks can’t help you now, darling. This is between you and me.”

  Annabelle’s eyes went wide.

  Duncan stood and whipped out the ticket book he’d shoved into his coat pocket. He flipped it open and wrote her name. “Let’s make this as quick and painless for you as possible. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. Being as it’s December 31, and I know the city of Henderson would love to have your money in their coffers before they close the books out for the year, if you pay your fine in cash at City Hall before they close today, Lieutenant Bennett and I will arrange for there to be no court date or any reporting back to your insurance company. No points on your record either. As a courtesy. For helping out the city. It can’t get much cleaner than that.”

  Annabelle angled her pretty little head at him and rolled her eyes. “A courtesy. For helping out the city.” She sighed and checked her watch. “The bank should still be open. How much is the ticket?”

  “Three hundred dollars.” He slid the ticket through the opening in the window.

  “Three hundred dollars? You’ve got to be kidding me. For three hundred dollars you should be giving me a police escort to and from City Hall.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  Annabelle held the ticket in front of her, saying under her breath, “For this kind of money I could have bought myself an escort for the party tonight.” And then her head shot up and she paused for a second before turning toward him, eyes determined. She lowered the window halfway. “Look. I am not going to be the one stuck kissing Lewis Kampmueller!”

  “What do you have against—”

  “I’ll pay your ridiculous ticket, in cash, before five o’clock under one condition. You be my date tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Duncan took a step back from the car and rubbed a gloved hand over his chin. Be cool. Do not blow this. “Annabelle Devine. Do I look like the kind of guy who doesn’t have a date lined up for New Year’s Eve?”

  “Well, do you?” she challenged. “Frankly, I don’t care. If this little fiasco is costing me three hundred dollars, I’m going to get my money’s worth. You’re Officer Friendly, you have a duty to serve and protect. Break your date. I have to be there early, so meet me at the Henderson Country Club at eight. I want full service in return for my cooperation with these shenanigans. It all sounds very fishy to me. ”

  “Well now,” Duncan said, dropping his voice and making it full of promise, “Officer Friendly, at your service. Pay your fine before the close of business today and I’ll provide as much service as you can handle.”

  Annabelle sucked in a breath and blinked several times.

  Duncan turned and walked away. Grinning.

  He heard her window slide down further and then Annabelle shouting, “Don’t you want to know the address?”

  He continued to walk toward the squad car. “I’m a cop. With an iPhone. I’ll find it.”

  “Do you own a tux?” she shouted back.

  That stopped him in his tracks. He turned around slowly, incredulous. “What? Do I look like I was born in a barn?” That had her smiling, waving him off and turning around to fasten her seat belt.

  Duncan headed back to Brooks and the squad car. That, he thought, had gone very, very well. He slid into the passenger seat and asked Brooks, “How fast can this thing get us to Raleigh and back?”

  “Why? What the hell is going on?”

  “I need to pick up my tux.”

  Brooks broke into a broad grin as he started the car and spun out on two wheels, turning them around. “So. The Keeper of the Debutantes, huh?” He glanced at Duncan, then shook his head. “Man, I did not see that coming.”