When We Kiss Page 9

  Clearing my throat, I explain. “It’s a cake decorating class.”

  “What’s going on out here?” Betty Pepper’s loud voice makes me cringe. “Tabby! Chad? Is that Coco with you?”

  “I’m spending the night with Aunt Tabby!” Coco hops over to the bar and climbs on a stool. “Mr. André’s making me mac and cheese.”

  “He most certainly is not!” Betty Pepper scolds her. “You know the Fall Festival for the church is tonight. I expect you all to come right over and get some Boston Butt. André, that includes you.”

  “Ew!” Coco cries.

  “Stop that fussing, Colette. We have a hayride and a dunking booth and games and cotton candy. You might win a goldfish!”

  “Cotton candy!” Coco’s entire attitude changes. “But I don’t want to eat a butt. I want mac and cheese.”

  Betty’s hand goes on her hip. “It’s not a butt like your behind. Boston Butt is like… it’s like brown chicken.”

  My nose wrinkles at that metaphor, and I try to rescue us from this hijacking. “Oh, thanks, BP. We’re just going to take it easy tonight. I loaned Emberly my car and—”

  “I could give you a ride.” Chad is warm at my back, and I pivot, looking up at him.

  His smile is still there, along with my favorite dimple, but something in his eyes has changed, it’s grown hotter, panty-melting hot.

  I go to where Coco’s sitting so I can think straight. Church functions are not my thing, even if I am keeping a four year old. “You don’t have to.”

  “We are not serving alcohol at this event, so you should be fine to drive.” Betty’s eyes narrow, and I swear, I am going to punch Jimmy Rhodes in the nuts next time I see him.

  Chad exhales a chuckle. “See? I can even get you home as well.”

  “Yay! Brown chicken!” Coco pumps her little fist.

  I catch it in my hand and lower it. “We’d planned to watch a movie… and I don’t have any cash. Aren’t these events cash only?” Thank the Lord, I saved us.

  “We got a brand new credit card reader. One of those little white square things?” Betty’s hand is on her hip, and she gives me a final nod. “I expect to see you all there in a half hour.”

  She stomps to the back of her store, headed to her office, and when I look at Chad again, he’s still grinning. “I was actually planning to stop by this evening and see if you wanted to go out again.” He closes the space between us, and my resistance melts in the presence of his hotness. “What do you say? It sounds fun.”

  “It sounds terrible. Brown chicken?”

  “Cotton candy… I could win a goldfish!” Coco’s hopping again, and I know I’ve lost. “Nevermind about the poboys, André. Looks like we have a change in plans.”

  Twelve

  Chad

  I follow Tabby in my truck to her place and wait as she parks the bike, gets Coco out, and removes her little helmet. Then she grabs a booster seat before joining me.

  Scooting to the side, I help her position the chair and then fasten the little girl in the center of my truck’s bench seat. “You’re pretty good at this.”

  Her eyebrows furrow, but whatever bothered her is quickly dismissed. “Taking care of Coco is easy.”

  “Melody is not easy.” Coco’s eyes are big, and she shakes her head slowly. “She is a terrible two.”

  “She’s almost three.” Tabby taps her nose lightly, and I like their easy manner.

  It’s a short drive to the church grounds, and Coco sings some song about mac and cheese the whole way. I’m pretty sure it’s made up, although I’m not up on all the kids’ songs. As soon as we’re parked, she’s jumping in her seat, ready to ride the small Ferris wheel across the way.

  “You stay where I can see you.” Tabby’s voice is stern as she gives this instruction. “What’s the rule?”

  “If I can’t see you, you can’t see me.” The little girl says the words as if they’re the Pledge of Allegiance.

  “Now have fun, and no goldfish!”

  That gets a little whine, but it’s short-lived. “Polly!” Coco waves to another little girl and takes off running.

  “At least she won’t have any trouble sleeping.” Tabby’s eyes roam around the semi-crowded field, where I know just about everyone, before turning to face me. “You were planning to come over tonight?”

  Her red lips twitch, and a breeze pushes a long curl over her shoulder.

  “I thought I’d be sure you were doing okay.” Once again, I run my eyes over the skin-tight red sweater she’s wearing with tight pants that stop at her calves.

  In town she had on black flip-flops, but she traded them when she ditched the bike for the kitten heels she’s wearing now.

  “I’m doing okay.”

  She’s doing more than okay. She’s sending all the blood from my head to below my waist. “I found something you might like this afternoon. I thought we could check it out.”

  “Is it something Coco could do?” Her eyebrow arches, and I shake my head.

  “It’s something for next time.”

  “Impressive how you’re already working on Date 3.” Slim arms cross over her narrow waist, and damn, she’s gorgeous. “Although, you might say Betty Pepper lured Coco here with promises of sugar and fish and brown chicken.”

  It makes me laugh, which causes her eyes to widen then flicker away. What’s on her mind? Could it be the same thing on mine?

  “We don’t have to call this a date,” I place my hand on her lower back as we slowly enter the festival grounds. “Betty trapped us all into coming here.”

  “I don’t even know what they’re raising money for,” she sighs.

  We walk slowly past a booth selling little sewn pictures with sayings on them like, I cross-stitch so I don’t kill people. “Probably the youth in Asia.”

  “As opposed to euthanasia?” She caught the reference, and I laugh.

  “You like David Sedaris?”

  “Something about his little nasal-ey voice does it for me.” Our eyes meet, and I like finding things we have in common.

  “I might have to get this one for Emberly.” She holds up one of the framed sewing pictures. It reads Don’t be afraid to take whisks.

  “Or this one.” It has a rolling pin and the words That’s how we roll.

  “She’d love it!” Tabby laughs, and I see another one I like.

  My hand is still on her lower back, and she’s leaning into my chest. It feels great, but her uncle Bob interrupts us.

  “Tabitha? I never expected to see you here.”

  Tabby stiffens and pulls away. “You should put Betty Pepper in charge of attendance.”

  “Is that so?” Her uncle chuckles and turns to me. “Good to see you here, and together?”

  “Chad gave me a ride.” Tabby answers for me. I don’t like that reason, but after last night, I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand. “I’m keeping Coco for Emberly. She wanted to come.”

  “Marjorie will like that. It’s good to grow up in the faith.”

  Tabby’s fur is bristling, and I try to think of a way to get us out of here before her uncle ruins our non-date. “Did you want to get this for Emberly?”

  I hold up the rolling pin piece, but something flashes in Tabby’s eyes. “No, I think she’d like this one better.”

  She holds up a framed piece, more toward her uncle than me, but I can still read it. It says, Whatever, bitch. My lips tighten as I fight a smile.

  Her uncle is unfazed. “You might wait until Colette is a little older.”

  “Look who made it!” Betty Pepper walks up, acting surprised to see us.

  “Cut the crap, BP.”

  “Tabitha,” her uncle says sharply, and I do laugh then.

  “I have to say, Tabitha.” The look on Betty’s face is pure condescension. “It’s nice to see you with someone who’ll keep you on the right path.”

  “The only path I’m on is finding Coco.” She storms off, leaving me behind with the two church l
eaders.

  “You’ve got your work cut out for you.” Betty nods, watching her go.

  “Lord knows I tried.” Her uncle concedes.

  “I wouldn’t change a thing.” Both their mouths are open when I leave them to catch up to my date.

  Damn straight, it’s a date.

  * * *

  Coco’s head is against my arm as I drive them home a few hours later. “I’m pretty sure she rode every ride out there ten times.” I glance down at her and see she’s sleeping.

  “They were pretty short rides.” Tabby still seems annoyed, which I don’t like.

  It doesn’t take long to get to her house, and I put the truck in park. “Want me to carry her inside?”

  “I can get her if you can handle all her crap.” The cab is filled with three giant stuffed animals, an oversized unicorn, a teddy bear, and a monkey—but no goldfish.

  I wait as she unbuckles the little girl and pulls her against her shoulder, walking slowly to the front door. I grab the booster seat as well and make my way carefully up the front walk.

  Once inside, I see her coming out of what I assume is her bedroom and closing the door without a sound.

  “I think you got the easier job.” My voice is a whisper. “I can’t see my feet.”

  That gets me a hint of a smile. It’s gone in a blink, and she takes the booster seat and unwraps the monkey from my neck.

  “It was sweet of you to win all these for her.”

  “It’s kind of hard to tell her no when she wants something.” I put the unicorn beside the couch and the teddy bear in front of the bookcase.

  Tabby puts the monkey in her office chair, and for a moment she hesitates. My stomach is tight with anticipation. She’s standing there in those tight black pants and that red sweater that accentuates her curves.

  Desire heats my veins, and my fingers curl remembering the feel of her breasts. I’d wanted more tonight, but she hasn’t been the same since that run-in with her uncle and Betty Pepper.

  I felt her bristle every time a church lady nodded and smiled at us tonight. They meant well, but I feel like they killed Date #2.

  Her hesitation disappears, and she steps to the door. “Thanks for giving us a ride tonight.”

  Shit. I follow her slowly. “It was my pleasure.”

  She pulls the door open, and I manage to smile. Her eyes don’t meet mine—she seems to avoid looking at me altogether, and disappointment is a lead weight in my chest.

  I want to touch her. I want to kiss her. Somehow I’m sure if our lips would meet just once more, everything would change.

  I don’t though.

  My hands stay at my sides. I softly say goodnight a “Sleep well,” and with that, she shuts me out again.

  Thirteen

  Tabby

  When I was thirteen, I got my period for the first time.

  My stomach cramped and it was weird and scary. Uncle Bob didn’t know what to tell me, and I started to cry because for the first time in a long time I wanted my mother. He brought me to the ladies Sunday school class for help, and Lurlene Woodruff told me I should be thankful the Lord gave me such a loving uncle to raise me after my Jezebel mother ran off when I was a baby.

  It didn’t make me feel better.

  Betty Pepper took me aside and told me what was going on with my “menses,” as she called it. She told me Lurlene meant well, then she gave me a little white Sunday school Bible and a piece of candy.

  It was the day I realized while some ladies were cruel old meanies, even the nice ones had a plan for my life.

  And it wasn’t my plan.

  As soon as I was old enough, I walked out of that church and never looked back.

  Lurlene Woodruff died a few years ago, and I wanted to wear red to her funeral. Instead, I just went to the beach and hung out with some of the surfers who were in town for the weekend. I smoked pot and forgot why I even cared about those people.

  Tonight I remembered why.

  It’s because while I’m not like my mother, I’m not like them either. I have my own dreams. I don’t need a good influence, and I sure as hell don’t need some man they all approve of showing me “the error of my ways.”

  It doesn’t make me a Jezebel. It makes me smart and strong.

  Hell, closing the door on Chad just now took the strength of Hercules, but I’m not losing my focus. I’ve been working on my plan too long.

  Coco is a lump in the middle of my bed fast asleep, and I smile looking down at her angelic face. Soft brown curls are around her cheeks, and she is so much like her mom.

  Emberly’s strong, too, losing her dad when she was about Coco’s age. She’s been my best friend as long as I can remember, and she’s always supported my dreams—just like I’ve always supported hers.

  Slipping out of my pants and sweater, I pull on Chad’s tee and boxers again. His scent is fading from the fabric, but I dip my nose inside and give it a hard sniff, searching for him. When I find it, my body relaxes.

  Chad Tucker is sexy and hot and kisses like a rock star. He’s like a chiseled boulder, and I won’t lie—I want to climb him like a tree.

  My phone lights up on the top of the dresser with a text. I walk over and pick it up, turning the face so I can read it. As much as I don’t want to, my heart jumps when I see Chad’s name on my screen.

  Sorry things got weird tonight.

  For a minute, I hesitate, trying to decide how much, if anything to say. It’s not your fault.

  BP is overbearing. Trust me, I get it.

  Stepping over to the bed, I gently ease in beside my little guest before typing back. She can be okay, but she uses God as a weapon.

  I understand.

  My brow furrows and my defiant streak emerges. You can’t understand. When has anyone used the Bible to control you?

  I wait, watching the gray dots float as he types his reply. Are you kidding? All the time.

  Example, please.

  Masturbation?

  Pressing my lips together, I swallow a laugh. Everybody gets that one. Something just for men.

  Seconds tick past, and there are no gray dots. It’s silent, and I’m feeling pretty smug about winning.

  Finally he sends a reply. What are you wearing right now?

  Air bursts through my nose as I laugh. Are you changing the subject?

  Just trying to lighten the mood. Is it working?

  Are you masturbating? What would the church ladies say?

  I’m not like them, Tabby.

  I’m not sure if I believe that statement, but I curl around Coco, my eyes heavy. I’m going to sleep.

  Dream about me.

  Clean your sheets.

  I put my phone on the nightstand, and when I close my eyes, I see his smile, his whiskey eyes wrinkling at the corners, that deep dimple. A naughty memory of him in those sweatpants flickers across my mind. Anaconda. My stomach is tight and warm, fizzy with something…

  My anger is gone.

  What are you doing to me, Chad Tucker?

  * * *

  “I got back earlier than I expected.” Emberly wakes me up, whispering from the opposite side of the bed.

  Blinking my eyes open, I try to turn to face her, but my face is blocked by a foot against my cheek. Dawn is just breaking, and my room is filled with soft blue light.

  “What time is it?” Sitting up, I rub my eyes, reaching for my phone.

  A lone text is on the face. Just for you. It’s from Chad, and I dismiss it, checking the time.

  “You are early.” It’s only six o’clock, and Coco is sleeping soundly, upside down in the bed. “You sure you want to take her now?”

  “I might as well let you get a few hours of sleep without a foot in your face.” She giggles softly. “What did y’all do last night?”

  “Church fair.”

  “Really…” Pure surprise is in her tone.

  Two words. “Betty Pepper.”

  “Ahh.” She lifts her chin and nods. “I don’t k
now how I’m going to get those animals on my bike. They’re as big as me!”

  I wave her away. “Keep my car. I can ride the bike to work tomorrow, and we can trade back.”

  “Sure you don’t need it?” She carefully picks up her sleeping baby.

  Coco only lets out a little whine before snuggling into Emberly’s neck and going right back to sleep.

  “I gotta work all day. I’ll call you if I need anything.”

  “Sleep some more.” She disappears out the door, and I fall over on the pillow, spreading out like a big X in my now-empty bed.

  I don’t know how much time passes before loud knocking wakes me to white-yellow sunlight blasting through the blinds. Shielding my eyes with my hand, I look around the room trying to get my bearings.

  The banging starts again. “Tabby, you awake?”

  It’s Chad, and I jump out of bed, throwing the blankets aside. I stop at the mirror, running my fingers through my hair and checking my eyes for crusties. Oh my god, my breath!

  “Just a minute!” I yell, running to the bathroom and snatching up the Listerine.

  A quick swish, and I check my face again. It’ll have to do.

  He’s knocking again, and I race into the living room to open the door. “What are you doing here?”

  Straightening, he looks me up and down, his gaze like a heat ray, sizzling my skin. “Good morning to you, too. Did you get my text?”

  “What time is it?” I think back to the text. “I saw it, but I didn’t understand it.”

  “You didn’t understand ‘Let’s get breakfast’?”

  His dark brow furrows, and shit, he’s hot.

  “I didn’t see that one.” My voice is quiet as I take him in.

  He’s standing here in front of me in jeans and a fatigue-green tee stretched tight across his chest. Aviator sunglasses cover his eyes, and his beard is a scratchy stubble I remember so well against my skin.

  A grin ghosts across his lips, and he nods at me. “I like your pajamas.”

  I look down at myself all decked out in his clothes, and my face heats. “I… umm… I got dressed in the dark last night. Because of Coco. You know.”