Pucker Up
Authors: Valerie Seimas
Pucker Up
By
Valerie Seimas
This is a work of
fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product
of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is
entirely coincidental.
PUCKER UP
Copyright © 2015 by
Valerie Seimas
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Ravenborn
www.selfpubbookcovers.com/ravenborn
This book is protected
under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any
reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is
prohibited without express written permission of the author.
First eBook Edition:
October 2015
Kindle Edition
Manufactured in the
United State of America
Table of Contents
RomCon – A Not
So Cinderella Tale
Royally
Screwed – A Prince and a Damsel not at all in distress
Dustin
slowed at the top of the stairs, staring at the open door in trepidation. He
was not equipped to deal with this – what twenty-three-year-old guy was?
Another clap of thunder sounded, and he heard the floor creak as someone moved
across it. He squared his shoulders, summoned all of his courage, and pushed
the door open.
Two
small faces with wide eyes stared back at him, framed by two sets of pigtails,
one blonde, one brown. Lightning slashed across the sky and the girls squeaked
and hugged each other closer.
“It’s
okay,” Dustin said. He tried to smile reassuringly but his face wouldn’t go,
settling into a grimace they frowned at. “It’s just a storm. Nothing to worry
about.”
“It’s
louder than at home,” Harmony said, her bottom lip quivering.
“She
means the old apartment,” Melody clarified, her eyes looking at the floor.
“I
know,” he whispered, not sure if they even heard. This was new for them, for
him, for Peter downstairs.
“Will
you tell us a story?” Harmony asked, earnestness shining out of her nine-year-old
face.
“A
story?”
“Mom
always told us a story when we couldn’t sleep.”
“He
doesn’t know any stories,” Melody admonished, trying to radiate authority.
“Peter
– I mean Dad – he knows some good stories. Can you get him?”
“I
know stories.” Dustin gulped. He knew stories – couldn’t think of any remotely
appropriate to tell little girls, but he knew there had to be one. Hell, if
Peter could do it, he could definitely do it. He was the smarter twin anyway.
“Really?”
Harmony’s face brightened into a wide grin and his heart was lost. How could
he take away her simple joy?
“Really?”
Melody’s reply was much more disbelieving. She lifted her eyes and he saw the
need behind her skepticism, trying to be brave.
“Yes,
really.” He sat in the chair across the room and turned to his attentive
audience. “So there’s this ninja – ”
“No,”
Harmony said with a shake of her head.
“Zombie?”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Army
Ranger?”
“Nope.”
“Football
player?”
“As
if.”
“You,
my dear, are hugely opinionated,” Dustin grumbled as he smiled on the inside.
“Yep!”
Her eyes sparkled with impish glee. He and Peter were going to be in so much
trouble.
“So
what, you only like sparkly girl stuff?”
“A
story about zombies is not going to help us get to sleep,” Melody said with an
eye roll. “We want to have sweet dreams.”
“Tell
us something with a happy ending,” Harmony demanded. Shit, what did he know
about happy endings? His mind flittered to another night, another storm,
watching the love of his life leave. They’d been so close, just a breath
away. If that story had ended just a bit sooner, it could have seemed like a
dream come true.
“Okay,”
he said, clearing his throat. “Once upon a time –”
“What’s
this story called?” Harmony asked, sitting up in bed.
“You
need a title now?”
“Yep,”
she said, hugging her stuffed rabbit closer. “All the
real
bedtime
stories have titles. This is a real bedtime story, right?”
A
title popped up, from where he didn’t know, but he couldn’t tell them.
Pucker
Up
wasn’t at all an appropriate name for a children’s story. It wouldn’t
make much sense to them; he wasn’t planning on telling them that the heroine
was one of the Attitunes who sang that catchy song. How he used to whisper
those words to her meaning so many different things – I need you, I miss you, I
love you. How just thinking them had him wanting the taste of her on his
lips. Two years wasn’t long enough to quiet his yearning.
“A
title,” he murmured. “A title… okay, this story is called…
Ally and the
Truly Remarkable Happily Ever After
.” He couldn’t tell them her real name
– the twelve-year-old might know it.
“That’s
definitely gonna have a happy ending,” Harmony whispered to her sister with a
grin.
“Sounds
like it,” she responded, her head cocked to the side as she contemplated
Dustin.
“Absolutely,”
he whispered back. He hadn’t gotten his happy ending in real life, but he’d
find one in fiction – one that would bring some smiles back to the little
girls’ faces even for just a moment. So they could keep believing that things
turned out for the best, even in the face of so much proof to the contrary.
“Once
upon a time,” he began again, “a long time ago, a girl with curly red hair
decided she was going to take a vacation…”
Faith
finished writing with a flourish, placing a slanted exclamation point at the
end of the line. Her eyes scanned the staff paper, running the notes and
lyrics through her head once more. She smiled at the result; all the heaviness
had leaked away into the song, and she was content once more. Her fingers idly
strummed the strings of her guitar as she refocused on the walls of her study.
Photographs surrounded her, all with her bright smile, designed to remind her
of the person she was – the cheerful one.
She
cracked her knuckles, nervous energy at the seemingly insane decision she’d
made, and grabbed her cell phone. Seven text messages and three missed calls
from Jackson. Wonderful. She threw the phone back onto the couch and cringed,
not wanting to think about him, about what they’d talked about at her birthday
party a few days ago. This was her week, her time to fall apart and put
herself back together, and she didn’t need any well-meaning lawyers, managers,
or best friends telling her the way to do it.
“Invasion
incoming.”
Faith couldn’t help but laugh at the computerized voice that pulled her out of
her worrying. She laid her guitar down and stretched the tight muscles in her
shoulders as she crossed to the window, peeking out at the narrow driveway.
Her house was set far back into the hill, and even though they’d checked in at
the gate, they hadn’t crested over the peak and come into view yet.
As
the last of the songwriting haze leaked away, she couldn’t stop a little niggle
of uncertainty. For the last decade she’d retreated into herself this one week
of the year, succumbing to the dark, bleak sadness she was able to keep
reasonably at bay the other fifty-one. In her twenties, after realizing
alcohol wasn’t helping her forget, it had been the only way she could figure
out how to cope. She knew she couldn’t keep doing it forever though.
The
car finally appeared and pulled to a stop. Faith stepped away from the window
and quickly tidied the mess of her afternoon. She was ready to shed one
disguise – that didn’t mean she had to share all her secrets with her
houseguests.
“You
don’t have to do this, you know.” The boyishly handsome man on her doorstep
smiled at her. It was insanely infectious. If anyone could keep her smiling,
it would be him. He didn’t know it yet but he was doing her a much bigger
favor.
“I
couldn’t leave my friends out on the street, now could I? Especially the very
pregnant ones.”
Madison
gave her a slightly patronizing look Faith knew wasn’t at all real. “I don’t
think I’ve made it to very pregnant yet. I’m stuck firmly at adequately
pregnant – all of the bloat and hormones, still able to fit through doorways.”
She cast a sidelong glance at her husband. “That is if he’ll let me over the
threshold.”
Trevor
wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist. “I feel bad putting her out because
pregnancy has given you a phobia of germ-ridden hotels. We should have
rescheduled the remodel on our place – it’s big enough for a crib anyway. Mady’s
sister has the tiniest apartment; Mom’s house is too far to commute every day.
My sister has the flu, Sophie has termites – how the hell she got those I’ll
never know, and – ” Faith’s eyes started to glaze over at the amount of
information he was spouting so quickly.
Madison
shook her head, short blonde curls bouncing, and moved past him into the
house. “Forgive him and his rambling – he still gets nervous around famous
people. It’s quite endearing most of the time – except when he makes me stand
in doorways when my feet are killing me.”
Faith
laughed. “He’s met me at least a handful of times.” They’d become fast
friends when she started guest-starring as a space troubadour on Madison’s
geeky television show – and with a pregnant wife, Trevor was not far from the
set when his work allowed.
“I
think it’s the accessories – the huge estate, the guarded gate, the fancy cars.
You can just shut the door and leave him out there.”
“I’m
really not that bad,” Trevor protested, the grin never leaving his face. And
still not coming in.
“Really?”
Madison said with a raised brow before turning to look at Faith and pulling her
deeper into the house. “Did I tell you about the time Trevor and I went to dinner
at Jasper Carlisle’s?”
“Okay,”
Trevor yelled after them, finally entering and running to catch up, “don’t
believe anything she says. She tells this story all wrong.” Faith laughed at
the pair of them and her hands itched for her guitar.
Trevor’s
phone beeped, preempting his story, and he slipped it out of his pocket. “It’s
Tess. She says that Matt just left for our apartment, and oh, she wants us to
get Faith’s autograph on this week’s issue of
People
?”
Faith
had almost forgotten about that. “Yeah, they wanted to do an article on me and
my ‘career resurgence’.” She hated that term even though it was probably
accurate. With the rising album sales of her solo release and all those
charting singles, not to mention her first acting role, she was definitely back
in the public eye. She tried not to scoff at that – she’d hadn’t really ever
left.
“I
know what that’s like – I was in
People
once too,” Trevor said, winking
at her.
“I
remember.” And she did. Those pictures had been smoldering. “Nothing quite
that scandalous this time. I think I have a copy here, and I’ll be happy to
sign it for your sister.” She stopped at her desk and rummaged through the
papers, looking for the envelope she hadn’t even opened yet.
“We
were scandalous?”
Madison
gave him an affectionate pat on the chest. “Of course. I’m never boring,
remember?”
Faith
found the magazine and looked up; her heart caught in her throat. Trevor was
whispering in Madison’s ear and she gave a throaty chuckle at his words. When
he pulled back, his smile was so easy and intimate that Faith’s gut clenched.
She liked these people, truly did, but when they looked at each other like that
she couldn’t stop the spike of agony piercing her heart.
Madison’s
eyes met hers, and a shadow passed through them. It looked too close to
understanding for Faith’s liking. Madison stepped away from Trevor’s embrace
and sunk down onto the couch. “Didn’t you want to put Trevor to work? Get him
moving before he forgets he’s starstruck.”
Faith
was flipping through the magazine, trying to get the sudden jealous need out of
her eyes, and found her own face smiling back. There was nothing revolutionary
about it, just the same girl that stared at her every day in the mirror. The
small picture in the corner, though, of the girl she used to be, gave her
pause. Decade-ago-Faith and everything that she’d been bloomed to life inside
of her, a time she’d been trying to forget for just as long. The urge to run
and hide was strong – her bold attempt at company seeming the most foolish of
mistakes.
Faith
pushed down her uncertainty and looked up with a smile in place, the kind that
should be effortless. She was very good at burying her emotions until they
were convenient; this was not one of those times. “I do have something, but I
could just hire some guys from the record company to come take care of it.”
“I
want to thank you for letting us stay. You don’t want me thinking up another
way; I’m not very good at it.”
Madison
laughed from the couch. “Trust me; he’s not. He’d ask for help from the other
musketeers, and then, well, you’d have a fun time, but you’d also have a God-awful
mess.”
Trevor’s
eyes scanned the office. “Some people aren’t as chaos-adverse as you are,
honey.” Faith’s smile turned genuine at that comment – no one had ever
mistaken her for neat. Too much order got in the way of her creative process; you
had to be willing to color outside of the lines sometimes.
“Okay,
I’ll let you help me, no chaos-limit instituted.” His smile was so relieved
that Faith wondered what type of trouble a nice, normal IT guy got himself
into. “I want to set up a home recording studio. I’ve already bought most of
the stuff, but I need someone to put it together and show me how to use it.
You up for that, Trevor?”
His
brown eyes shone in delight. “I think you just gave him the best gift ever,”
his wife said, struggling up from the couch. “The only thing that would make
it better would be if it somehow involved comic books.”
“You
like comic books?” Faith knew another guy that liked comic books. He’d spent
hours trying to convince her she should read them too. Or at the very least
dress up as Harley Quinn. How did she even still remember that?
“Main
reason I married her is so I can go to bed with a superhero every night.” He
blew his wife a kiss and skirted out of reach.
“And
the main reason I married him is so someone can fix my computer when I spill
wine on it.” Madison joined Faith at the desk and took the magazine from her, skimming
the article with interest. “Let’s put Trevor to work and then go get lunch.
I’m starved.”
Faith’s
eyes traveled from the magazine in Madison’s hand to Trevor’s kind smile.
Suddenly they reminded her so much of another couple that could have been if
she hadn’t destroyed it ten years ago. Decade-ago-Faith, who had taken a
different fork in the road. His name rose up in the back of her mind. Her
soul sighed for him. Dustin.
Dustin
adjusted the brim of his hat, the sun on the back of his neck annoying but also
the best medicine for the next few days. Her memory still shook him more than he’d
like to admit – the dreams had started up again like clockwork – but he knew
how to cope with that feeling. Exhaustive physical labor without his crew in
sight.
“What
are
you doing?”
Dustin
put down the lumber and turned, removing the hat from his head and placing his
hands on his hips. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Making
a God-awful mess,” Harmony murmured with a wide smile. Well, at least she
wasn’t annoyed with him anymore for not falling head over heels with the lady
she’d deemed his soulmate last night. They’d tried to marry him off so many
time, he didn’t know how they got anything else done. Teenagers were such a
handful; they should have come with a manual. “But the real mystery is why
you’re making a mess.”
“Well,
Nancy Drew, what do the clues tell you?”
Harmony
rolled her eyes. “You know you have to tell me what construction flight of
fancy you’re on every year, even though you leave the evidence plain for me to
find.” He knew that and grinned on the inside. “Sorry, Uncle Dust, but
architect I am not. I can’t read your blueprints any more than I can Latin – though
I have tried on both accounts.”
“You
think I should just tell you? Where would the fun in that be?”
“Well,
it would be awfully fun for me, personally.” She grinned again, and Dustin was
close to joining the imp, her smiles irresistible no matter how much he tried
to resist them. Those girls rattled his gruff façade more than he ever thought
possible.
“Well,
you know I live for
your
amusement, Harm. Grand purpose of my life.”
“As
well it should be.” She shot him a winning smile then shrugged when he didn’t
return it, grabbing the long curtain of her brown hair and twisting it up into
a knot on the top of her head. “All right, gonna make me think, aren’t you?”
“Might
come in handy one day.”
“If
you don’t think I think, then you should help Dad grade his papers. You’d be
amazed at the amount of thinking those things require.” Harmony shoved her
hands in her back pockets and started circling the building supplies. “Okay,
let’s have a simple exercise in deduction.”
“Whatever
you say.”
“Instead
of trying to figure out what you’re planning on doing, I’ll figure out what
needs doing. No plants and I’ll assume you’re not decking over your prized
garden so no to the backyard. I know you’re not remodeling the kitchen because
that’s been done. As has every single bathroom in the house, probably twice.”
Her
eyes lit up at the challenge, and she continued circling the pile, her brow
drawn in thought. “You know I think your office is outdated, but you’ll never
willingly remodel that.” Dustin watched her and the affection he had for her
swelled, a feeling he wasn’t always prepared for, even after eight years. “Are
you building a porch swing?”
“Really?”
His tone was incredulous, light, but he felt hollow, just like he always did
when she asked about a porch swing. It was the one thing he never made them,
the image of them swinging on the porch in laughter too close to the reality
shattered on the floor. No porch swings.
Harmony
laughed at his dry tone. “I don’t know. This place is practically perfect.
You remodel it way too often for me to keep up.” He did – every year this week,
in fact, for the last decade. It was the best distraction he could find.
Dustin
nodded his head, considering. “You think so? Maybe I should just take all
this stuff back then.” He reached down to grab a board and put it back in his
truck. “I mean, you don’t really need more bookcases and a window seat in your
old playroom, right? Yeah, useless stuff.”
