Kyland (Sign of Love #7) (5 page)

"You been kissed before, Tenleigh?" he rasped as his hand went to the side of my head, his fingers weaving into my hair.

"No," I whispered, my body swaying toward him. No, but I wanted to be. Oh God, I wanted to be. I felt practically drunk with expectation. Would he touch me while he kissed me? Would his hands move over my body, under my clothes? A jolt of electricity raced up my thighs and ended between my legs.

I liked him so much.
He was a boy who was sweet, but would take charge. My blood was buzzing, racing through my veins.

His eyes gazed into mine for several frozen seconds until he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled away from me. I let out a huge breath as I tipped toward him and caught myself, pulling back suddenly, too.

Kyland stood up and spun away from me, breathing hard. "You shouldn't give your first kiss to me."

What the . . .?

I blinked, feeling stunned, almost as if he'd just slapped my face. Humiliation engulfed me. I made a chuffing sound in the back of my throat and wrapped my arms around myself.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Why haven't you ever kissed anyone?"

I shrugged, feeling hot, my skin prickly. I lifted my chin. "Never found anyone I wanted to kiss before," I said, going for nonchalance. But in actuality, it was pretty true.

"And you want to kiss me?"

I snorted.

Conceited asshole.

So not only was Kyland not going to kiss me—he was going to make me feel embarrassed and inexperienced? This was the
exact
reason I had sworn off men. "Not anymore." I stood up, grabbing my grocery bags and moving past him. But I was caught up short when he grabbed my hand and tugged. I whirled back around. "Let go of me," I hissed. "You're right. I don't want to kiss you. I'm going to go away to college, and I'm going to let a real man kiss me, not some stupid hillbilly who thinks his lips are God's gift to Kentucky girls."

Kyland let go of my hand, looking truly insulted. "That's not what I think."

I made a sound of disgust and kept walking. I felt flushed all over and I was shaking, trying in vain to dismiss my deep sense of hurt and disappointment. "Well good, you shouldn't. You don't have anything every other man doesn't have, too, Kyland Barrett," I called, and raced back toward the road and fast-walked all the way home. I had no idea if Kyland followed me or not and I told myself I didn't care.

Tenleigh

The following week, on a blustery Sunday, I walked with Marlo down the hill. She was headed to work and I was headed to the Dennville Library.

"Don't stay long, okay?" Marlo said as we prepared to part ways.

"I won't. I just need a few new books." We tried our very best not to ever leave our mama alone for long in the trailer. Not that she would do something rash if she were taking her medication properly. But it was difficult to know if she was—we couldn't exactly force it down her throat, and counting pills hadn't worked. She knew well enough to hide the ones she wasn't taking if she decided to go off her medication. But either way, our mama was what I guess you would call
delicate
. If she wasn’t sleeping, she didn't care for being alone. Frankly, it was exhausting, but it was the hand we'd been dealt, and we did what we had to because we had no other choice.

I often wondered what it was like to have parents that cared for
you
, rather than the other way around.

As we stepped onto Main Street sidewalk, a man looking down at the phone in his hands was walking toward us. "Oh God, turn away!" Marlo hissed.

"Huh?"

Suddenly the man looked up. "I'm so sorry," he said, brushing my shoulder and taking a big step to the left. "Oh, hey. Tenleigh, right?"

I swore I heard Marlo let out a small exasperated groan. "Yeah. Hi, Dr. Nolan?" I glanced at Marlo and she had a small, phony smile on her face. I hadn't met Dr. Nolan before, but I had seen him and I knew he was a dentist who had set up a practice in Evansly. Apparently, he was here to save the Mountain Dew mouths of Appalachia—a valiant intention, maybe he could brighten a few smiles. I couldn't help but cringe every time I saw a baby sucking down a bottle full of pop. Needless to say, I cringed a lot. And evidently, most of his clients, if they could pay at all, paid in things like homemade moonshine. And yet, he was still here. And surprisingly sober.

The other thing I knew about Dr. Nolan was that Marlo had had a one-night stand with him a few months back when he'd come into Al's for a Sunday afternoon beer.

And
that she'd ignored him since.

"Call me Sam," he said, glancing around me at Marlo. "Hi, Marlo. How are you?" he asked, pushing his glasses up on his nose. Frankly, he was adorable in a Clark Kent sort of way. His hair was parted too severely, he wore black-framed glasses, and a shirt buttoned all the way up to his throat. But he was handsome despite all that, and he looked fit. I glanced at Marlo, raising my eyebrows.

"Hi, Sam. I'm good. How are you?" she said, giving him a big, bright smile that was completely fake.

If a man was capable of swooning, he did. "Uh, I'm good. I came by Al's a couple times, but you weren't working," he said, his cheekbones flushing with color. Adorable.

I grinned over at Marlo.

"Oh. Sorry to hear I missed you, Sam. You must be busy with your practice." Marlo was speaking slowly with exaggerated formality. I squinted my eyes, trying to get a better read on her face.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I'm swamped." There was an awkward pause that he jumped in to fill. "You know tooth decay in Appalachia is a real epidemic." He glanced back and forth between Marlo and me. "Of course, your teeth are beautiful. You must take good care of them. Oral health is so . . . You must floss well, which is great. It's mostly the soda that's the problem, though. Or pop as you call it here. And a bad diet, of course . . ." He grimaced as if he was pained by the conversation.

I held back a grin. "We've observed the problem. What you're doing is very admirable."

He shook his head. "Oh no, I get more out of it than anyone. To see a twelve-year-old come into my office with a mouth full of rot and then send him walking out with a beautiful smile, well, it's hard to explain that feeling. I have the ability to change someone's life, you know?" His eyes brightened and his voice was filled with enthusiasm. "There's nothing that compares to that." Clearly he was passionate about his endeavor. Adorable.

"Where are you from, Sam? You have an accent."

He chuckled. "I'm from Florida. To me, you have accents." He glanced at Marlo. "I love it."

Oh geez.

I glanced at Marlo who seemed unmoved. "Well," she said, "I need to get to work, so you have a good day, Sam. Tenleigh, I'll see you at home."

"Oh. You're going to work?" Sam asked. "Well, let me drive you. I'm headed back to Evansly anyway. I was just dropping off my card to some homes in this area, letting people know I'd see them free of charge if they were interested . . ."

Marlo hesitated and I jumped in. "Great! What a stroke of luck, Mar. I'll see you at home."

She widened her eyes at me, but smiled over at Sam. "Okay, great. Thanks, Sam."

They turned to walk to his car, Sam waving at me, and Marlo widening her eyes in a “we'll talk later” way. I turned around and headed toward the library, chuckling to myself. Either Marlo was trying
really
hard not to like Sam, or well, she really didn't like him. If I had to guess, I'd go with the former. I'd seen Marlo with guys I knew for a fact she wasn't interested in, and she didn't act like that. She also didn't cover her smile in front of Sam. I liked that most of all—he made her feel pretty.

I pulled the door to the library open—really nothing more than a small one-room shed with several bookshelves inside, holding as many books as could fit. I had helped one of the teachers at my high school take up a fund to set it up several years ago and folks had donated what they could. The budget had been small and didn't buy many books, but it was better than nothing. And it was usually empty. So I was surprised to see someone standing at the shelf on the back wall leafing through a book.

I walked in quietly and as I got closer, I saw it was Kyland.
Stupid Kyland
. I couldn't mistake that broad back and the caramel-brown hair curling up at his neck. It looked like he was returning a book to the shelf. I cleared my throat and he whirled around, the book still in his hands. My eyes moved from his surprised expression down to the title he was holding,
The Weaver of Raveloe
.

I leaned my hip against one of the shelves and crossed my arms over my layered sweaters, a feeling of satisfaction moving through my body as I took him in. Well, well.

Kyland narrowed his eyes at me and leaned back against the shelf behind him, sucking at his bottom lip. We stood there staring at each other for a minute in some kind of strange standoff, despite the fact that
I
was the only one who should be bitter here. "A little girl. That's what he found that winter night. Abandoned in the snow," he said.

I nodded slowly, my eyes moving over his face and hair, so carelessly handsome. Our eyes locked. "She gave his life meaning. She made him feel alive in a way he never had before."

He continued to stare at me. "Then he lost all the gold he'd earned after he exiled himself."

I shrugged. "Yes, and it didn't matter. He didn't care about it once he found Eppie. She ended up being his greatest fortune. She ended up giving purpose to his lonely life."

Something shifted behind Kyland's eyes. He turned around slowly and returned the book to its place. He must have checked it out the week before—after we'd talked and after I'd returned it. He turned toward me.

"Are you going to check out another one?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No." It came out clipped and certain.

I walked toward him to return the one I'd finished reading,
The Bluest Eye.
I leaned toward Kyland to put the book back in its place. He didn't move to accommodate my closeness.

I cleared my throat. "Well, if you set out to prove to me you're not the illiterate hillbilly I pegged you for, you—"

"Tenleigh." My eyes flew to his at the raspy sound of his voice. I stopped speaking.

There was something hard and resolute in Kyland's expression. The air was thick with tension. We both stood silently, Kyland's jaw clenching. He moved even closer to me and my heart started beating wildly, my breath coming out raggedly. Dear God, he was beautiful and I could smell his skin, clean and masculine with the slight hint of salt. I wanted to open my mouth and breathe in the air around us so I could taste him on my tongue. My tummy flipped and my eyes fluttered for a brief second. He continued to stare, seeming to note my body language and he looked . . .
angry
? Intense. I stood taller and lifted my chin. I didn't understand what was happening, but I wasn't backing down from this, whatever
this
was.

Kyland moved in close to my body until his face was right above mine. I looked up at him, blood pumping furiously through my body. "I'm going to leave here, Tenleigh. Nothing is going to stop me. Not you, not anything. Not anyone. Do you hear me?" His voice sounded strained, and his eyes were heated and angry.

My breath came out of my mouth in sharp pants as I attempted to get hold of my racing heart. I didn't need him to stay here. I didn't need him to feel indebted to me for any reason. But I did need him to kiss me. Right that very second. I moved my eyes to his lips and let out another harsh whoosh of air. Kyland made a strangled, groaning sound in his throat and moved his lips right up against mine. "I'm leaving this place behind when I go. Everything about this place. Even you."

Well why wouldn't he? I'm nothing to him.

"Okay," I gasped. He paused for one brief second, his eyes flaring, and then his lips crashed down on mine. He took my face in his hands, his fingers weaving through my hair and his tongue pushing into my mouth. My whole body felt like it would combust as I brought my arms around his neck and pressed myself into his hard form, melting into him. He groaned, a tortured sound, and tilted my head with his hands as his tongue plunged more deeply into my mouth. I moaned back, my tongue dancing with his, playing, tasting. I broke from his mouth, gasping in air as he nipped and kissed up my throat. "Yes, oh God, Kyland, don't stop," I begged. And if he would have laid me down on the floor right there and made love to me, I would have let him. I was very close to begging him to do just that. Blood pumped furiously between my legs causing a pounding drumbeat of need. My breasts felt heavy and achy.

His lips returned to mine and he plunged his tongue in and out of my mouth as if he were starving for me.
And I loved it.
I wanted the kiss to go on and on. I never, ever wanted it to end.

Suddenly, Kyland pulled away from me and stepped back, breathing harshly, looking dazed and somehow still angry, the evidence of his own arousal tenting his jeans. "Holy
fuck
, Tenleigh. What are you doing?"

My blood ran cold as suddenly as it had heated only moments ago, my eyes widening as I stared incredulously at him. "What . . . what am
I
doing?"

And just like that, Kyland turned and walked out of the Dennville Public Library, leaving me alone and confused, my lips and my heart bruised.

I had let him do it to me again! What was wrong with him?
What was wrong with me?
I leaned my body back against the bookshelf behind me and vowed never again to let Kyland Barrett humiliate me. He wasn't the only one with plans to leave here.
Why did he even have to register on my radar?
God, I
hated
him.

**********

I had a sneaking suspicion you probably weren't supposed to think about someone you hated all day and all night.

Damn.

But I did make it a point to avoid Kyland Barrett the entire next week. Once I saw him at the end of a hallway in school and I made a sudden turn so I didn't have to pass him, and another time I glanced out the window of one of my classrooms and saw him outside walking with Shelly Galvin. I quickly looked away, jealousy filling my chest, making me feel angry and brittle, my heart aching. He hadn't seemed to have a problem kissing
her.

Again, this was why it was my plan to avoid men around these parts—they were either entitled users, or backwoods losers. For a brief moment, I had thought Kyland was different, but he wasn't. He had purposely humiliated me, knowing I was attracted to him. Well, never again. Apparently there were plenty of girls happy to have him play with them around here. He wouldn't die of loneliness anytime soon. I had seen proof of that. I sat chewing on my pencil, unable to get him off my mind, though. Damn—I had liked him. I had allowed myself to think about him as I lay on the small couch in our trailer, drifting off to sleep. I had dreamed of him looking into my eyes the way he had as we sat looking out at the sunset. I had dreamed of him touching me, kissing me, even loving me. I had dreamed of seeing him with his shirt off, my fingers trailing down his warm, suntanned skin . . . Even though my mind had warned me to stop dreaming, the very thought of it had sent a current of electricity straight to my heart. Stop, Tenleigh. Just stop, foolish girl. Stupid, foolish girl.

Plan Swear Off Men: officially reinstated.

After school, I went to the library so I wouldn't encounter Kyland walking up the hill to his home. I knew he wouldn't be checking out any more books. I was safe—and I liked it there. It was like my own personal office. I could sit at the small table in the back, spread my homework out, and have all the privacy I needed. No one in this town was too interested in reading except for me. And it was a lot more comfortable than the small pullout table in our trailer, the one that squeaked every time I pressed down on it to write.