Blame it on the Kiss Read online

  Wow. Honor put her phone on the desk and brought her hands to her face, covering her mouth and nose in utter surprise and…excitement. She had her first real client thanks to Bryce.

  She smiled against her palms. His faith in her made her believe anything was possible.

  …

  One text.

  One text thanking him for referring a client to her and his resolve to stay away had crashed and burned. More texts followed. Honor had the power to permanently damage his heart, to ruin his chances with her brother.

  And still being careless won out over caution.

  How had a one night stand turned into more? He’d told himself to keep his emotions off the table, but that had been impossible the second she’d surrendered under his touch. She made him forget himself.

  He’d lasted four days. Every day he’d told himself they were done. And every day his heart begged to differ. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d played hooky from work, but when Honor texted him she was feeling under the weather and home alone, he’d decided to surprise her. Illness aside, she inspired spontaneity in him and he liked it.

  He parked in front of her house and headed straight for the fake rock he’d noticed in the planter near her front door. A shiny silver key revealed itself when he slid the rock open.

  Quiet filled the house so he walked down the hallway to Honor’s bedroom and knocked lightly. When she didn’t answer, he went inside. The covers were up to her chin, her hands tucked under the side of her beautiful face. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched her sleep. He’d never tire of staring at her.

  She must have sensed his presence because she rolled onto her back and stretched her arms. Her eyelids fluttered open and when she finally focused on him, her pink lips curved into a sexy morning smile that got an immediate rise out of him.

  “Hi,” she said, her voice a little rough with sleep.

  “Morning.”

  Then she blinked herself wide-awake and bolted upright. The comforter slipped to her waist, revealing a low V-cut nightgown with thin straps. He’d wanted to kiss her lips. Now he wanted to kiss the freckle above her left breast. Her neck. Her shoulder. Everywhere.

  “I thought I was dreaming. What are you doing here?”

  “Thought I’d surprise you. Make sure you were okay.”

  She twisted her hands in her lap. “You could have just called.”

  “I needed to see for myself how sick you are.”

  She covered her mouth and gave a tiny cough. “It’s nothing serious. You really didn’t have to drive all the way here.”

  “But since I did, how about getting some fresh air with me?” He stood. “Get dressed and I’ll wait in the living room.”

  A swallow worked its way down her throat. They hadn’t talked about what keeping in touch meant, but he wasn’t ready to give her up. Last weekend, she’d let all her barriers down and he’d never felt more connected to another person. He wanted that again.

  She sighed deeply. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  “You haven’t heard what I have planned yet,” he pointed out.

  “What do you have planned?”

  “It’s a surprise.” You like surprises, remember. He remembered every word she’d said to him. “I promise it’ll be fun.”

  “And if it’s not?” She twirled her finger around the hair falling over her shoulder. “Fun, I mean.”

  “You’re looking at the King of Fun.”

  That put a twinkle in her eyes. “King, huh? What if I decide you’re only a prince?”

  “Then I’ll make you my princess instead of my queen.”

  She rolled her eyes, but laughed. “That is so cheesy.”

  God, her laugh did scary good things to him. “There’s plenty more where that came from. So?”

  She waved him off. “I’ll be out in ten.”

  “Make it nine. I’m pretty sure I can’t wait ten to see you again.” He turned and left the room, even though a big part of him wanted to join her in bed instead. While he waited for Honor to dress, he spent a few minutes with Jaws and then noticed a postcard from Hallmark wishing her a happy birthday with a discount. He picked it up.

  “What are doing?” she asked from behind him.

  Bryce put the piece of mail down. “Wondering when your birthday is.” He turned and animal-style lust shot through his veins. “Wow. You look amazing.”

  “Thanks.” She ran her hands down the short, sleeveless coral print dress that hugged her curves. “I wasn’t sure what we were doing, but it looks beautiful out today. I’m ready for whatever the King of Fun has up his sleeve.”

  He closed the distance between them, cupped her cheek with one hand, her nape with the other, and stared at the tiny flecks of silver in her eyes. She tunneled her fingers through his hair and pulled him in for a kiss.

  A deep, long, slow kiss that promised they’d come back to this later. Thank God they were on the same wavelength.

  “So,” he murmured against her lips. “Birthday?”

  She slowly pulled back. “April first.” He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, April Fool’s Day. And yes, jokes are played on me left and right. When’s yours?”

  “July seventeenth.”

  “A summer boy.”

  “Yep. So come on, Spring Girl, let’s go have some fun.” He took her hand and led her to his car. Mrs. Jamison stood in her front yard watering flowers and waved. Bryce waved back just as she whipped her cell phone out of her pocket.

  Before putting the car in drive, he took his own cell out to check directions for their short drive.

  “You figuring out my surprise?” she asked, trying to peek at his screen.

  He dropped the phone into the driver’s door pocket. “Not anymore.” Twenty minutes later he parked in a dirt lot with only a few other cars and they walked toward the butterfly pavilion tucked away in the mountains. Even from a distance he could see the shadows of tiny winged creatures in action. Honor slipped her hand inside his and practically skipped to the entrance.

  The fastening of their fingers seemed very date-like, but he pushed the idea away. Today was about fun. He didn’t want to think too hard about what they were doing, just enjoy Honor’s company.

  “I’ve heard about this place and was hoping to get up here.”

  “It’s like I can read your mind,” he teased.

  She cast him a flirty glance. “Tell me what I’m thinking right now and I’ll tell you what I have on under this dress.”

  Hell. She wanted him to speak when all he could do now was picture her body sans the dress?

  “Problem?” She prompted, making fun of his silence.

  He glanced at his wrist. “Actually my watch tells me you’re not wearing anything.”

  “Sorry Charlie, but I am.”

  “Damn,” he shook his arm. “It must be fast.”

  Honor snickered. “Now that is the cheesiest line ever. And I’ve heard a lot of lines.”

  “Any of them ever work?” They got to the entrance of the exhibit and Bryce paid the entry fee.

  “You fishing for the 4-1-1 on my past love life?”

  He put his arm around her waist as he pushed open the door to the pavilion. “I’ll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours.”

  “This is butterfly heaven,” Honor said instead of answering his question. Greenery filled the glass-enclosed building and butterflies collected everywhere. Hundreds of them. A huge grin spread across her face as she watched the tiny winged creatures.

  “Looks like,” he said.

  They followed the winding cobblestone path before them with slow measured steps. The warm, humid air left water droplets clinging to most of the leaves on the plants.

  Honor put her finger out next to a leaf like she hoped the butterfly there would climb aboard. Its turquoise blue and brown wings were stationary, but then it moved a little to the right and tickled her skin. She bounced up and down with excitement and the butterfly quickly flew aw
ay.

  “You must keep very, very still, Padawan,” Bryce said.

  Honor whipped around to find a butterfly on his shoulder, his finger, and his arm. “You’re a Star Wars fan?”

  “Who isn’t?” His grin widened. “Now don’t move. There’s a red and yellow butterfly in your hair. And another about to land on your shoulder.”

  Super slowly, she dropped her chin and darted her eyes to her left. The tiny creature had orange wings with black trim and white polka dots. “Hey there,” she murmured without moving her lips.

  Bryce watched her in fascination before breaking his butterfly connection and saying, “Come on. I think I see a butterfly orgy going on and they’ll definitely want you involved.”

  “I don’t know. You were the first one to get some action.” She followed his lead, her little friends fluttering away. “A guy who smells as good as you obviously attracts attention.”

  He stopped and brought her flush against him. “I could breathe you in all day, Honor. You’re like sunshine in a bottle and I can’t get enough of you.”

  She touched her nose to his. “I’m kind of stuck on you, too.”

  “I didn’t mean for this happen,” he admitted.

  “I didn’t either.”

  And then like some enchantment had been cast over them, butterflies by the bunch flew in circles around them. He and Honor kept perfectly still, eyes locked on one another, until the free flying creatures moved elsewhere and broke the spell.

  “That was awesome,” she said.

  Happy he’d been the guy to bring her awesome, Bryce grinned and took her hand. They explored further, discovering furry caterpillars, more spectacularly colorful species of butterflies, and plant life that blossomed the most unique flowers.

  Once they’d walked the whole cobblestone path, they settled on a concrete bench. Honor sighed with pleasure and leaned against his side.

  “I’ve only had one boyfriend,” she whispered. “A long time ago.”

  Every time she shared another piece of herself Bryce wanted to pump his fists in the air. And foolish or not, he cared more deeply with each revelation. “How long ago?”

  “High school.”

  Bryce turned his head, but she kept her gaze forward. “What happened?”

  “He wanted forever and I freaked out. I stood him up for his senior prom and the next day he…” She coughed into the bend of her arm before a swallow visibly made its way down her throat. “The next day he tried to kill himself.”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Bryce wrapped her in his arms, cupping the back of her head with his hand. “I’m sorry he did that to you.”

  “I did it to him,” she said, her face in the crux of his neck.

  “No you didn’t. He did it to himself. To break you.”

  He felt her blink against the skin above his shirt collar. “Lance did break me and you’re the first person to recognize it.”

  Jesus. How had no one realized that? No one deserved retaliation like Honor had suffered. No wonder she didn’t want another relationship. She not only had doubts about herself, but about putting her certainty in another person.

  Which made him the last guy she should be with. He was still waiting on Cooper’s decision. Still keeping a hold on his heart, not sure he had it in him to let someone in again. The man Honor learned to trust should be in it for the long haul.

  Not someone who could do her wrong because he didn’t know what his priorities were anymore.

  Chapter Eleven

  Honor’s entire body quivered. Bryce messed with all her practiced habits big time—had from the very beginning. Maybe she could trust herself to be with someone again. Maybe, like her favorite movie touted, “people do belong to each other, because that’s the only chance anybody’s got for real happiness.” It felt right with Bryce.

  That thought-bomb, though, needed some getting used to. She hopped to her feet. “I’m hungry. You hungry?”

  He stood. “I am and I know just the place.”

  “What if I know just the place?” She put a little extra swing in her step as he followed behind her.

  “There’s no way it’s as good as mine.”

  “Oh, really?” She loved getting back to the playful banter between them. He lifted the fragile memories she hated to let inside her head and kept her rooted in the present.

  “Hands down, you’ll love this joint.” He held the pavilion door open for her.

  The sun rested high in the sky and a warm breeze brushed over her skin. She brought a hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the brightness. “And if I don’t, promise to do whatever I say with those hands of yours?”

  He put said delicious hands on her hips and bent his head so his mouth grazed that sensitive spot just under her earlobe. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

  She shivered. “I guess we’ll go to your place then.”

  “Damn right.”

  He made sure she got in the car okay and then hurried around to his side. His polite gestures quirked up the corners of her mouth every single time. She loved that he was a gentleman out in public, but dirty in the bedroom.

  Fifteen minutes later they arrived at a food truck parked at the beach along the coast highway. French Fry Heaven was stamped on the side in big gold letters with a halo around ‘Fry.’ A ton of people stood in line.

  Bryce handed her a blanket he pulled from his trunk. “Find a spot on the sand and I’ll grab us the best fries you’ve ever eaten.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Although given the crowd, she felt pretty sure they would be. “And by the way, this isn’t a joint.”

  He rolled his eyes. “It’s an establishment where food is served.”

  “Or it’s a truck.” She smirked and made her way toward the water.

  Lying back on her elbows, her feet digging in the sand, she watched the waves push onto shore. A little boy scrambled to keep his feet dry, running forward and back, giggling with his mom close by his side. Honor had played the same game as a young girl.

  “Close your eyes,” Bryce said, his shadow falling over her.

  She did as he asked, a wave of excitement and anticipation sweeping from her fingers to her toes. The blanket rustled. She almost peeked at him, her curiosity getting the best of her, but the element of surprise kept her lids closed.

  The first thing to hit her senses was the smell of delicious fried potato and something else—something sweet, but she couldn’t pinpoint what exactly.

  “It smells yummy,” she said.

  Bryce’s arm brushed hers, setting off the usual flurry of tingles when they touched. He sat close. Super close. She wanted to roll over on top of him and line their bodies up so that she could nibble her way down a French fry he held in his teeth. Kiss. Swallow. Repeat.

  “This isn’t an ordinary French fry,” he said, his husky voice making her even tinglier.

  She pushed up off her elbows and tucked her arms underneath her legs. The sunshine and the ridiculously hot and adorable man next to her were a killer combination, and she needed a more fixed position before she melted into the sand. “No?”

  He feathered his lips over her jaw, scooted closer so she could rest against him. “Would I give the most interesting woman I know a regular fry? I don’t think so.”

  “You just gonna talk or feed me?”

  “You like the way I talk.”

  “Not really,” she lied. Would he get on with the French fries already?

  “Your body says otherwise.” And he proved it by brushing his hand across her breast and feeling her nipple strain to reach him.

  She sucked in a breath. The brush had been quick, but just feeling his nearness had her pressing her thighs together. “This needs to stay G-rated, Mr. Bishop. We are on a public beach.”

  “Right,” he said, as if the reminder supremely disappointed him. “So this particular French fry is known as a waffle fry.” Something warm—the edge of the fry, she guessed—touched her lip for a brief second. “Or pomm
es gaufrette for you word connoisseurs.”

  “Also known as crisscross fries,” she offered, breathing in the delicious scent. With her eyes closed, the smell came across stronger.

  “That’s right.” The waffle fry touched her mouth again, but when she parted her lips, he pulled it away, the big tease.

  She licked her bottom lip. He groaned. Warmth, want, need, desire, all swept over her.

  She’d never forget this simple act of being fed a French fry.

  “What makes this better than other waffle fries is that it’s dusted with something special. Ready to see if you can guess what that is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Damn, you are so sexy, Honor.” His warm breath fanned over her jaw. “I want to feed you my mouth and nothing else.”

  “Nothing else?” She leaned closer, her side softening against his chest.

  “Okay, one other thing, but we’ll get to that later. Open up, beautiful.” He put the fry in her mouth and she took a bite.

  “Mmm. Gimme more.”

  He fed her the rest of the crispy fried potato and then two more.

  “What do you think?” he said.

  “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  “Hence the name of the truck.”

  “And I think the mystery flavor is Nesquick. Can I open my eyes now?”

  He laughed. “Yes.”

  It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the brightness, tiny white dots dancing in front of her before she focused on the handsome man beside her. “There you are,” she said, thinking she’d like to open her eyes to see him every day.

  “Want another?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Their eyes never left each other as he fed her another fry. This time when he pulled his hand away, she grabbed his wrist so she could lick the tips of his fingers.

  The hazel ring around his pupils glittered with lust. “Is that G-rated, Ms. Mitchell?”

  “Feeling a little hot under the…belt buckle, Mr. Bishop?” She let go, gave him her best flirty smile.

  “Hard, Ms. Mitchell.” He bent his head and took her earlobe between his teeth. “I’m feeling hard and you’re going to pay for that.”