The International Kissing Club (27 page)

More days like this, she hoped. Of course, considering the state of her weakened knees, more days like this and she’d never have a shot at that basketball scholarship. Though Lucas might be worth it.

“So, let me get this straight: you came all the way to Australia to kiss guys?” Lucas gave her a sidelong glance.

Cassidy came back to the conversation at hand. She heard the incredulity in his voice and was glad it was dark, because pink was not a good color on her, and right now she was covered in a huge blush head to toe. “I told you it was stupid.”

Why had she told him anything about the IKC at all? She blamed that damn dimple—it was like Kryptonite; she was powerless against it. He could charm anything out of her when that little divot made an appearance.

He slouched a little in his seat. “So, how many points do you have so far?” For the first time since she’d met him, Lucas didn’t sound so surfer-Zen-go-lucky.

“Me? Oh, well … you see … actually …” She fiddled with the zipper on her sweater as she practically glowed red. She should make up some number. What did it matter? He’d never know. God, if he were playing this game, he would probably have twice the points she did in just the time it took to drive over here.

“Tell me. It’s a lot, right?”

She sighed. This was so embarrassing. “Three. I have three points.”

“So … you’ve kissed three guys since you’ve been here,” he said, his tone deflated. “Are you still seeing them, the other guys?”

What? No. Wait … what was that?
If she was better at reading guys, she’d say he sounded pouty and a little bit jealous.

She’d never had a guy be jealous over her before. Cassidy didn’t know how to take this development at first, but then she considered it. It was way sexy.

The idea that he didn’t like the thought of her kissing other guys gave her off-court confidence a supercharged injection. She scooted toward him and in a gesture a complete one-eighty from her usual reserved self, she did something she’d been dying to do since that day at the airport: she touched his dimple with the tip of her finger.

Cassidy let it linger there before trailing it down his cheek to his chin to turn his head toward her.

“No. The rules of the International Kissing Club state that I get
three
points for an amazing, earth-stopping, epic kiss,” she said with all the matter-of-fact seriousness she could muster.

It took a moment for what she was saying to sink in, but then a grin broke out across Lucas’s bronzed face, crooked and just a little cocky. Her insides turned molten.
Oh. God
. If he kissed her again now she wouldn’t be much more than a puddle of mush on the vinyl seat.

“Epic, yeah?” His hand stole around the back of her neck and he nudged her nose with his. “I can live with that,” he whispered against her lips. Cassidy closed her eyes and melted.

The International Kissing Club was Piper’s Best. Idea. Ever.

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Messages

Between
Mei
and
Izzy
:

Mei

What are you up to? Are things any better at school?

Izzy

Let’s see … I’ve spent the better part of the week converting all our family home movies to digital; I started working on a design for a rainwater collection system for my garden; and I downloaded an instructional video to learn how to weave plastic grocery bags into purses. In other words, I’m bored out of my mind. But I do start my new job tomorrow, so that’ll be something different.

Mei

Hope it works out for you! Who knows, maybe you’ll make a new friend at Tanner’s farm—it’s something I highly recommend doing. :)

Izzy

Oh yeah? How’s your new friendship working out? Any lip action yet?

Mei

No. It’s not like that. We’re just hanging. He’s trying to get me to skateboard.

Izzy

Oh, Mei. Get your head out of your books. If the boy wants to teach you something, it’s because he likes you. And if he wants to teach you to skateboard, it’s because he wants to get his hands on you.

Mei

Izzy!

Izzy

Just saying.

Mei

Have to go now. Am late for dinner. Don’t know how I’m going to look Guiran in the eye now.

Izzy

I hear it’s better with your eyes closed, anyway.

Mei

Izzy! Not helpful. Logging off now.

Chapter 15
Izzy

Izzy drove Brittney up to the Sun Valley Orchard the following Saturday morning, hoping—rather desperately—that Tanner had been joking about the tractor.

Tanner had told her to be there by seven.

Seven was freakin’ early. Earlier even than she got up for school. Was this really worth ten bucks an hour?

But it wasn’t like she had anything better to do on Saturday. Sure, she could have spent another day at home, resenting her parents’ poor financial planning, but she already had that covered. Besides, it had been so long since she’d actually spoken to anyone, her vocal cords were starting to atrophy. It was time to rejoin the world of humans.

So she rolled out of bed at six fifteen, stumbled downstairs, and made herself an espresso before leaving the house. Her parents couldn’t afford to send her to Costa Rica, but they could still keep the coffee maker stocked with a nice Costa Rican blend. Glad to know where their priorities lay.

The Google Map directions led her down a long dusty road that ended at an aging ranch-style house crouching low under some oaks. She parked by the trees and went looking for Tanner. Something resembling an airplane hangar sat on the other side of the road, hunkered down in rows of cotton. The fields near the house were planted with something else. Izzy had lived in northeast Texas long enough to
recognize the cotton, but she was used to her veggies artfully displayed at the farmers’ market, not still on the stalk.

She stopped several yards away from the tractor. The John Deere loomed over her, like the bright green and yellow carcass of a dinosaur. The behemoth was mud splattered and scuffed, rusting out in places, patched over in others. It looked as though someone should have hauled it off to the dump a decade ago in a mission of mercy. Hooked to the back was a contraption straight out of a medieval torture chamber. Massive rods of metal supported a row of disks, each easily two feet across, their edges gleaming wickedly in the early morning light.

In her mind, the theme from
Psycho
played.

Just then, Tanner appeared as if from nowhere. He clapped her on the back in a casual, buddyish kind of way, laughing when she jumped. “Come on. I’ll show you around the barn.” He walked toward the building behind the tractor.

“That isn’t an airplane hangar?” she asked when he started walking.

He shot her another one of those bemused looks. “If we could afford an airplane, the tractors would be newer. And I wouldn’t need a football scholarship.”

Good point
.

She pulled her gaze away from the evil tractor as he walked toward the barn. It was all arching steel and heavy corrugated doors.

Looking from the barn to the tractor, she tried to muster her courage. Tanner had already rounded the John Deere and was several long-legged strides in front of her. “Seriously,” she called. “I thought you were joking about the tractor.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

Nearly running to catch up, she said, “Um. Just, in the interest of full disclosure, I failed my driving test. Twice.”

“That’s okay. You don’t need a special license. You won’t be driving on public roads.”

“That’s so not reassuring.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her. “You sound really worried.”

“I
am
really worried.”

“Don’t be.” He stopped abruptly just outside the barn door and turned to face her. She nearly slammed into him but he caught her hands in his, catching her before she fell against him. “I’ll be right next to you the whole time.”

His thumb brushed the back of her hand before she jerked it away. It seemed like an awful lot of physical contact between farmhands.

Wrapping her arms around her chest, she pulled her hands into the sleeves of her sweatshirt. “Sooo. This is a barn,” she said brightly as they walked inside.

This was one of the situations where changing the subject abruptly was socially acceptable. Wise, even.

Tanner slanted her an odd look and spoke slowly. Like maybe she was slightly deranged. And maybe she was. “Yes. This is a barn.”

“It’s … less red than I expected. And there’s no silo.” The barn where she’d lost her virginity—the one out at Mike Jenkins’s place—hadn’t really been used as a barn in years. Everybody knew his family had made their money in the high-tech industry and then moved out to Paris. They stabled horses there sometimes, but the Jenkinses’ barn was mostly just for show. Not unlike River had been.

She shied away from the memory, focusing instead on what was right in front of her. Tanner’s barn was completely different—all big machinery, dust, and motor oil. It surprised her how at home Tanner looked here as he snagged a set of keys from a workbench. “And no cows,” she added inanely. “Or chickens.” When he still didn’t comment, she added, “Or pigs.”

Finally—thank God, before she said anything else idiotic—he said dryly, “My parents live on a farm. They don’t live on the Fisher-Price farm.”

“Right.” Again her tone sounded overly bright. “I know that. I mean, of course.” Resisting the urge to slap a big
L
onto her forehead,
she babbled on. “I guess that means I’m not going to be milking any cows, huh?”

WTF? Why can’t I stop talking about farm animals?

Why did her hand still feel warm where he’d touched her skin? It wasn’t like he’d never touched her before. So why was she suddenly so much more aware of him?

Looking up at Tanner now, she noticed he had a dazed expression on his face. Like she’d gone so far into crazy he didn’t even know how to respond. So she brought up the one topic every football player wanted to talk about. Himself.