Secret Kiss (12 page)

No man had ever shown her this kind of attention which was fully a reflection of her poor choice in men. She took responsibility for the fact that, in every relationship she’d ever been in, she’d settled.

With each of the men she’d had significant relationships with, she’d seen things, even early on, that had made her more than pause—they’d stopped her dead in her tracks. But she was a world-class benefit-of-the-doubt giver. She could explain away almost any behavior…and she had.

With Disaster #1, she’d told herself that the only reason he was more interested in video games and hanging out with his friends than he was in her was because he was young. She’d met Peter during their freshman year of college and dated him until senior year. He was her first, so she hadn’t had any frame of reference. She’d settled for having unfulfilling sex once every six months, because even though she hadn’t truly believed it, she’d worked very hard to convince herself that it must be normal. That is, until two weeks before graduation, when she’d walked in on Peter and his roommate, Mark, having what looked like quite fulfilling sex to both of them.

The incident should’ve taught her to trust her instincts more. But it hadn’t.

“Holy hot tamale!” Nikki fanned herself as she sat down in the seat Adam had vacated. “You and Daaaam have so many sparks flying. I’m surprised you haven’t set off the sprinklers.”

“Daaaam?” Amy sat on the other side of Nikki, her brow furrowed.

“Adam,” Nikki explained, seeming quite proud of herself. “I was telling Jane that, every time I see that boy, he’s so fine I just think
damn.
Then I realized that the letters in his name spell it.”

Tilting her head, Amy pointed out, “They spell the noun form of dam that relates to reservoirs.”

“Tomayto, tomatoe.” Nikki waved her sister’s observation off. Then, turning her full attention towards Jane, she rubbed her hands together and whispered conspiratorially, “Okay, quick. Before the guys come back. Spill.”

“What?” Jane wasn’t sure what information Nikki wanted. But her friend’s enthusiasm level alone caused butterflies to start a house party in her stomach.

Nikki didn’t miss a beat. “You and Adam. What’s going on? What’s the four-one-one? Details, please. Don’t leave anything out.”

“There’s no… I don’t… We just…” Jane had no idea what to say. This wasn’t a real date, and the one person who should know that was Nikki. She was the one who’d set the entire thing up. “Nothing. Nothing’s going on.”

Amy’s and Nikki’s faces lit up.

Their expressions caused Jane to feel uncharacteristically defensive. “What? There isn’t.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” Nikki continued to grin like she knew something Jane didn’t.

Jane was as flustered as a tornado ripping through a dusty field. And totally out of her element. She wasn’t the girl other girls came over to gossip with. She was the girl looking in from the outskirts. The girl who was overlooked. The girl who observed from afar.

Being the center of attention wasn’t all she’d imagined it to be.

Amy reached across the table and squeezed Jane’s hand. “Well, can I just say, you look so beautiful tonight.”

Jane appreciated Amy’s conversation redirection, even if it was still centered on her. She ran her hands down the form-fitting bodice of her dress and let out a breath of relief. “Thanks. I’ve seemed to have put on some weight since moving to Hope Falls, and when I realized about an hour before I needed to be ready to go that none of the gowns I had fit, I almost canceled.”

“That dress
definitely
fits.” Nikki let out a low whistle. “You are one hot mama.”

A blush crept up Jane’s face. “I practically poured myself into it. It never used to be this snug.”

“Well, it seems snug is working for you. Incoming at three o’clock,” Nikki said under her breath as she lifted her eyebrows.

“Incoming?” Jane repeated as she looked up and saw Eli walking—with purpose—straight towards her. His lips were turned up in a half smile, and he looked like a man on a mission.

Out of sheer habit, Jane glanced behind herself. Yes, he was definitely heading in her direction, but the object of his single-minded energy had to be someone else.

“Hello, ladies,” he greeted Amy, Nikki, and Jane, smiling as he stopped beside the table. “You all look lovely tonight.”

“Thanks,” Amy and Jane responded at the same time that Nikki said, “You’re lookin’ pretty sharp yourself.”

Jane had to smile. Mike had told her that Nikki wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met before in his life. He’d said that she was spectacular, like a shooting star. At the time, Jane had figured that her boss was just smitten, so he was waxing poetic. But once she’d met Nikki, she had known that the description was accurate. Their relationship was a true testament that not only do opposites attract, but also that, when you’re with the right person, the person you’re supposed to be with, you don’t have to change.

Nikki was flirtatious by nature, and Jane knew that her behavior never bothered Mike. He was totally secure with her. One time, when they’d been at a Book Club meeting, Nikki’s flirtatious ways had become the subject of discussion. Nikki had told all the girls that, when she had been worried that being with Mike, a politician whose world was so different than hers, would change her, her mom had told her that she just needed to be herself. She’d gone on to counsel her that a good guideline for marriage was to always behave as if your spouse were right beside you. That way, you know that, if you’re acting a certain way or saying something you would be totally okay with if your partner were there, then it was fine if they weren’t.

From what Jane had observed, Nikki had taken her mom’s advice to heart. She was the same person when Mike was standing right beside her as she was when he was across the room.

That was the kind of relationship Jane wanted.

“Jane?” Eli’s voice cut through her inner musings.

“Huh?” Her eyes lifted and she saw that he was holding out his hand.

“Would you like to dance?” he said in a tone that indicated he was repeating himself.

“Me?” Jane clarified.

“Yes.” He nodded, a grin of amusement lifting on his face.

“Oh…um…”

“You promised you’d save me a dance,” he reminded her.

Nikki pinched her, and at the sting, her eyes darted over to her friend. Before she could even say, “Ouch,” Nikki was pushing her off her chair.

“She’d love to dance!” Nikki exclaimed as she acted as her human air bag, ejecting her out of her seat.

Not knowing what else to do, Jane took Eli’s hand and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. Her eyes scanned the room, but she didn’t see Adam. Not that it mattered. They weren’t actually there on a real date, and he hadn’t asked her to dance all night.

Regardless, a twinge of guilt twisted in her chest.

Eli placed his hand around Jane’s waist and pulled her against him. For a moment, she stiffened. Then she forced herself to relax. This was just a dance.

As they swayed to the music, Eli spoke against her ear, “You truly do look incredible. When you walked in, you took my breath away.”

Jane didn’t answer him. Instead, a nervous laugh bubbled up.

Thankfully, Eli didn’t try to continue the chitchat. He pressed one hand to her lower back and the other in her hand, leading them seamlessly across the dance floor. She had to admit that she was impressed. This wasn’t normal sway-back-and-forth moves; if she wasn’t mistaken, they were actually doing the waltz. She never would have guessed in a million years that Eli knew how to
waltz
. It just went to show that you really couldn’t judge a book by its cover.

This entire night felt to Jane like one of those movies where the nerdy girl gets a makeover and then gets the guy. As they floated across the room, she had to remind herself that Eli had asked her out before he’d seen her in the dress she was pouring out of. He’d been interested in the metaphorical nerdy girl in glasses.

As much as she wanted to enjoy this dance with a hunky firefighter who, from what Jane knew of him and had observed, was also a genuinely nice guy, her mind kept wandering to her quiet, reserved, too-sexy-for-his-own-good neighbor. Even in the arms of one of Hope Falls’ most eligible bachelors, Jane couldn’t stop thinking about Adam.

The nerdy girl had gotten to dance with the hot guy; it was just the
wrong
hot guy.

‡

A
dam flexed his fingers on the steering wheel and stretched his tense neck. He was trying to release some, even a tiny amount, of his pent-up frustration. Tonight hadn’t gone well. At least, it hadn’t as far as his sanity was concerned.

From the moment Jane had opened the door, he’d had more testosterone flooding his system than he’d ever had in his entire life—all instances combined. Then, when they’d walked into the ballroom and every male had looked at her like she was a steak dinner, he’d wanted to kick all of their asses. He knew, on a logical level, that it was ridiculous. On a primal level however, he thought it was a perfectly reasonable response.

The hours during the dinner portion of the evening had been its own form of torture. They’d chatted with their friends at the table and also each other. The conversation hadn’t been the excruciating part.

The almost unbearable moments of the night had been the small touches, both accidental and intentional. The sweet smell, which Adam had discovered was uniquely Jane’s, that kept wafting through the air every time she brushed her hair over her shoulder, turned her head to the side, or—the worst—leaned close and spoke so that only he could hear her. Every time the fresh scent of fruit and vanilla had hit his senses, he’d had to hold himself back from burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“So, how did things go with Kyle Austen Reed?” Jane asked, her all-business tone a complete contradiction to her Hollywood-vixen appearance.

“Good. Mike is going to send him a little more information, but it looks like he’s on board not only to invest but also to become the spokesperson, basically the face of Latch Key to Success. He even offered his PR company pro bono.”

“That’s great,” Jane enthused. “I know that Mike was hoping he’d get a chance to connect with him. I spoke to his publicist earlier today, and she thought it was exactly the kind of project he’d be interested in.”

Adam was still having a hard time wrapping his brain around the celebrity factor that was unique to Hope Falls. There were pop stars, Olympians, and reality-TV stars. Kyle Austen Reed, a mega movie star, didn’t technically live in Hope Falls, but he visited frequently and the town had sort of adopted him as their honorary son.

It was surreal, to say the least, when Adam had explained the tutoring app to Kyle and the superstar had hung on his every word. For a moment, it’d been a little difficult to articulate the program—until he’d looked up to see Jane on the dance floor with Eli. That had sharpened his mind to a razor point. Who knew that searing, hot jealousy was the equivalent of a colossal dose of Ritalin for someone with ADD?

With his blood boiling to a dangerous level, he’d grown laser focused on the information he’d been relaying to Kyle. Hell, his reaction to seeing her in another man’s arms was exactly what he’d needed to speak with pinpoint accuracy and effectiveness. Actually, it wasn’t so much the jealousy that had done it; it was more like he’d dived into his pitch as an all-encompassing distraction. And it had worked.

As he turned onto their street, he couldn’t help but feel sad that the night was ending. Which was odd. Tonight had been a special form of torture, yet the thought of his evening with Jane being over was even worse.

“Well, thanks for—” Jane sounded nervous as she unclicked her seat belt “—tonight.”

Before the truck even came to a full stop on her driveway, her hand was already on the door. She obviously wasn’t feeling the same sting of disappointment he was over the night’s end. And why should she? He’d been an ass. Yes, he’d done the obligatory polite gestures any half-decent person would have done for the first half of the night. But the second half, after she’d returned from almost a full hour on the dance floor with Eli, he’d given her a shoulder so cold that it could’ve been mistaken for one of the ice sculptures.

“Jane.” Adam reached over the console and covered her hand with his.

Even a touch that innocent sent fiery, hot lust shooting through him. It was like her body was supercharged with erotic energy.

At his hand on hers, she froze. Stiffened. Adam was trained in the art of reading body language, and hers was clearly broadcasting that she was uncomfortable. He removed his hand immediately, knowing he needed to do some damage control.

He and Jane always had a tension between them—a
sexual
tension. Which was bad enough. But this, whatever was going on between them now, was worse.

“I’m sorry.” He knew she deserved more than those two words, but it was a start.

Her head whipped around, and the sweet smell of her hair filled the cabin of his truck. “For what?” she asked, the cute wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows like it did every time she was trying to figure something out.