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I arch an eyebrow. “PJ? Short for?”
“P…” Her eyes widen before she leans toward me. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers a moment before her slender fingers caress my jaw and her lips land on mine.
My eyes widen as my brain scrambles to catch up with the sensations buzzing across my skin. The scent of vanilla and citrus floats between us, and I detect a taste of orange juice. How… What… Why is there a gorgeous woman kissing me? Just as my thoughts gather momentum, and I feel the urge to cup the back of her head and kiss her back, she pulls away.
Her cheeks are flushed. Her eyes are glazed as she slowly blinks and lifts her manicured fingertips to her lips. “I’m so sorry,” she gasps. “That should never have happened.”
Before I can reassure her I didn’t mind, she grabs her purse and steps off the stool. Mumbling to herself, she makes a beeline for the door without a backward glance.
As her auburn hair disappears from view, I let out a low whistle and jerk my thumb toward the exit. “Did you just see that? Or did I just imagine that some gorgeous woman was kissing me?”
A rumble of laughter billows from the bartender’s mouth. “It was real, man. Very real. Trust me. I had a front-row seat.”
I rub a hand over my mouth, still tingling from the imprint of her lips. It’s been a long time between kisses, and I’m still in shock. I have so many questions. Who is she, and why did she kiss me?
If I ever needed inspiration to break through my writer’s block, I may have just found my muse.
Penny
What have I done?
Closing my eyes, I press up against the outside side of the building and suck in deep breaths as the imprint of a stranger’s lips lingers on mine. The scent of his cologne, a delectable mix of sandalwood and leather, fills my senses. I can’t believe I kissed a total stranger. That’s so not like me. It might be something on my BFF Emily Hazelburn’s list, but certainly not mine. My list comprises things like dance in the rain, learn to crochet, hike the Camino de Santiago. I’m the play-it-safe type. The color-inside-the-box type. The organize-my-books-in-alphabetical-order type. Not the type to kiss a stranger.
In my defense, it was an act of desperation. An attempt to hide in plain sight. But now that I’ve caught my breath, I can see there were probably other ways to avoid seeing Tripp Hammond. Hiding behind the bar, or in the restroom, for starters. Not accosting the closest man. But the slime ball approached me while my brother and his bride were celebrating their nuptials with the rest of their guests, and I needed to do something to get away from him.
I was glad to see the last of Tripp, the lying, cheating dirtbag, when I left LA. But he’s here. In my hometown. At my brother’s wedding.
There were only a few media passes given out to cover Jenna Ashton’s wedding to my brother, Aaron. I was an obvious choice, given that I am the groom’s sister, and I write for the Autumn River Daily, the town’s local online news. But of course,he’dbe here at the biggest wedding of the year. Well, the biggest wedding Autumn River will ever see.
I shouldn’t be so surprised. After all, he is the face ofNow!LA’s premier entertainment news outlet. Everyone loves him. All tanned, blue-eyed, six-foot-three of charm. With his sandy-blond hair and dental-ad-worthy smile, he is gorgeous. And married.Yep. Tripp keeps that information silent. So quiet that we dated for six months before I found out he was having his cake and eating it too. I was mortified to discover he had a wife and children, and I couldn’t leave LA fast enough to get as far away as I could from the two-timing jerk.
When I’m sure Tripp is nowhere around, I huff out a breath and straighten my shoulders, suddenly feeling emboldened by the brazen stunt I pulled on the stranger at the bar. For a moment, I consider going inside and apologizing to him again. Perhaps chatting a little. Getting a better look to make sure I didn’t accost someone years younger than me, or someone my grandfather’s age. But I then think better of it. He’s probably having a good laugh with Roman, the bartender, and I have no desire to be the brunt of someone’s joke ever again.
With the nuptials over, and the reception well under way, there’s nothing keeping me here. Aaron won’t notice I’m gone when he only has eyes for his new bride, and I don’t want to chance running into Tripp again. The rest of my family might miss me, but I’ll worry about excuses later. For now, I need to get out of here. Feeling like Cinderella running away from the ball—except with no Prince Charming to chase after me—I make my escape.
It’s only when I pull up in front of my house a short time later, that I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s been a long day, and all I want to do is collapse onto my couch. With a cloudless blue sky, the day started out perfect. Witnessing the pure joy on my brother’s face as he watched his bride walk down the aisle was something else. But then it took a sudden turn. An awkward encounter with the one person I never wanted to see again. Concluding with throwing myself at a stranger to escape Tripp’s pursuit. I’m glad to be done with the craziness of it all. Home has never looked so inviting.
Only a short walk from town, my three-bedroom house with its white shutters and gray siding, is nothing fancy. A porch swing on the front porch overlooks a neat garden that I try to work in when I get the chance. It’s a step or two down from my upmarket condo in LA. But it’s all mine. There’s no traffic noise. No sirens in the middle of the night, unless someone triggers the fire alarm at the retirement home a few blocks away. No weirdos lingering out the front. And best of all, my family all live within a two-mile radius.
As life happens, for one reason or another, the Reilly siblings are all back in Autumn River. Aaron never left. Instead of expanding his wings and exploring greater horizons, he took over the family ranch when our parents died. My younger brothers, Blake and Zane, returned after circumstances changed. Blake works in construction, and Zane, an ex-pro footballer, coaches at the high school. I left years ago to chase my dream career, but returned with a cloud of humiliation over my head. It’s great that we’re all together again, even if no one knows the real reason I came back home.
I see the doubt in my brothers’ eyes when I say I wanted a change. That the city life was too much for me, and I crave the quieter pace of Autumn River. Why would an experienced reporter leave their successful career to work for a small-town news outlet unless something happened? I know my brothers don’t buy my excuse, but I’m not about to expose my mistakes and live with their judgment for the rest of my life. Even though we’re all adults, they still treat me like a little kid at times. They’re always looking out for me, which I’m grateful for because I know they’d send Tripp running if he tried anything.
Once inside, I toss my keys in a bowl on the hall table, kick off my heels and sigh at the feel of the soft carpet between my toes. It’s like walking on a cloud after being in my heels all day. With a glass of water, I sink onto the couch and scroll through the wedding images on my phone. Jenna is the most stunning bride I’ve ever seen. She’s effortlessly beautiful with her long flowing blonde hair. Classy, but not pretentious. I’ll use one photo from my camera for the news article, but the ones on my phone are for private viewing only.
I flick through the images. My niece, Mia, hijacked my phone, and I can’t help but laugh as dozens of selfies—close ups of her face—fill the screen. Tongue poking out. Pulling faces. My heart fills with love for her. She’s such an awesome kid, and I’m proud to be her aunt. Aaron has done a great job raising her as a single dad after his first wife, Kelsey, died in a car accident. Mia and Jenna adore each other, and I know Jenna will make a wonderful stepmom.
A touch of sadness, or perhaps jealousy, tugs in my chest that I’ve somehow missed out on that for myself. There’s a sense of emptiness hovering on the periphery of my life caused by the realization that I’ve been too busy chasing a career, climbing the ladder to make a name of myself, that I haven’t had time to settle down and start a family of my own. I always thought there’d be more time. But here I am. Forty and single. Most of the time, I’m okay with my choices. But then there are moments, like tonight, where I allow self-pity to drag me down and regret to seep in.
Humiliated by my mistakes with Tripp, I can’t help but wonder about the fairness of it all that despite his womanizing ways, he still gets to go home to his family. What do I get? An empty house and memories of a stolen kiss with a stranger. Which isn’t actually so bad when I look beyond my impulsiveness and allow myself a little fantasizing.
Who was he? And will I see him again?
Linc
The roll-top desk in the corner of the living room has been in the McArthur family for generations. There are indentations from typewriters and ink stains on the leather insert. The drawers have a musty smell. And there’s a water stain on the top. I was hoping for some McArthur courage or spontaneity to rub off on me, perhaps transfer by osmosis, as I sit here and try to write. But instead of holding the words I require to begin, my mind is a vacant abyss.
I stare out the window at the garden, watching leaves shift in the breeze. Autumn River is putting on her best spring display with lilacs and geraniums blooming in the garden Gran has lovingly tended over the years. With the sun beaming down, it’s too nice a day to stay inside, but here I am, trying to find the inspiration to write. Perhaps it’s the pressure of a looming deadline, but it feels like I’ve completely forgotten how to string more than two words together. I can’t recall the last time I could write uninhibited. Where words flowed freely and actually made sense.
