Whiskey Kisses (9 page)

Laney steps in and slings a perfumed arm over my shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I look to Ryder. “I hope you know what a lucky guy you are. Don’t even think of hurting my baby sister, or I’ll have to hunt you down.”

A light laugh rolls through our circle, but I meant every word.

“Let’s do this.” Bryson nods over at Ryder. They each take a hold of their respective girlfriends and navigate their way to the makeshift stage. Ryder picks up the mike, and a shrill of feedback whistles through the bar.

“Hello.” He blows into it, and the room pops with the noise. “First, I want to thank each and every one of you for coming out tonight to celebrate this truly joyous occasion. I can’t think of anything more important to me than joining with Laney in holy matrimony. The big day is just a few short weeks away, and I don’t think we’ll stop celebrating until we’re old and gray.” The crowd breaks out in a collective sigh. “There’s another reason we called you here. Bryson and Baya, our good friends, have made a decision about their own big day. I’ll hand the mike over to Bryson so he can let you in on that.”

Holt looks to me a moment.

“You know anything about this?” I whisper.

“Not a clue. But I wondered what my parents were doing here. And I think I’m about to find out.”

“Thank you, Ryder.” Bryson takes a deep breath. “Baya has been a saving grace to me from the moment I met her. It wasn’t long after that I figured out I couldn’t live without her. As most of you know, we’ve been engaged now since February.”

Baya leans into the mike. “Valentine’s Day.”

Another collective
aww
circles the room.

“And”—he picks up Baya’s hand—“we’ve decided to tie the knot this summer as well.”

Laney and Baya jump with excitement as if their heels were on springs. Here it comes.

“We’ve agreed that we’re going to go ahead with a double wedding.”

The room breaks out in cheers. An entire mob of people crash around them, and the music starts up overhead.

“Wow.” I turn to Holt—“that’s pretty wild. Your brother and my sister, same bat time, same bat channel.”

“Who would have thought?” He forces a smile to come and go, but Holt looks sucker-punched far more than he does happy.

“Don’t you like Baya?”

“Yes. Baya is perfect for my brother. Trust me, he test drove enough girls to confirm this theory.” Holt’s features darken as he gives a wistful smile. “It’s just, he’s cruising through life—I’m proud of him.”

“And you’re not cruising.” I say it almost as an apology. “I get it.”

“Looks like we’re doing this baby steps thing together.”

“Sounds good to me.”

A slow song starts in, and an entire mob of couples drift toward the dance floor.

“You want to hit it?” Holt nods toward the lethargic moving crowd, and my entire body seizes.

“Just me and you?” I touch my hand to my chest to further confirm my stupidity.

“Well, we can ask your mom to join us, but it might get crowded.” He tilts his head, and his lips curl in a seductive manner that make my insides disintegrate. “Yes, me and you.” His lids hood low. “I won’t bite. I promise.”

“Not even if I ask real nice?” I press my lips in tight. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so playful—so safe with anyone before.

His brows knit. “Only if you say please. How about it? You in, Princess?”

“Laney’s the princess around here.” I blow out a breath just looking at his expectant hand.

“I think ‘kitten’ fits you better anyway.” We head over to the dance floor, and he weaves us deep into the crowd. His gaze never leaves mine, and I close my eyes a moment.

Holt slowly interlaces our fingers with his warm flesh rubbing over mine. Here it is, the contact I’ve craved for so long. A part of me was afraid it wouldn’t feel right, that I would want to repel, but my insides are singing a song of their own, a sweet aching melody that drips right down to my thighs. I don’t need a man around the house to open jars. It’s moments like this I need him for. My mother flutters through my mind, and I’m quick to chase her away.

Holt glides his arm around my waist, and I let out a sigh that was ten years in the making.

“First slow dance?” He cocks his head just enough to make my bones melt.

I give a slight nod. Each time Holt asks a question, I feel as if I’m giving him another part of the puzzle. Too bad I’m missing a few pieces—the ones that fit over my heart. My father took those with him.

He leans in, and I groan as the warmth of his chest heats over mine.

Who knew Holt Edwards had the power to reduce me to cinder. I’ve danced plenty in my life—dancing
is
my life. But I’ve never done it with anybody else—at least not in this close proximity—with someone like Holt. Not once did I imagine it would feel like this—like a dream exploding into life, and here it is. I glance down at our legs touching in all the right places.

“Baby steps, kitten,” he whispers with his hot breath raking over my neck.

I arch my head back and take in my fill, drink it down, savor it for later. This is it. My life has hit its zenith with Holt Edwards at the helm of this newfound revolution taking place inside me.

“Baby steps,” I whisper.

I run my hand over his back, lower still until my arm wraps fully around his waist. My body loosens as if I had just untangled a knot I’ve been working on for a decade.

His cologne holds the scent of sandalwood and spices from the orient—something richer than the one he wore the first night.

“So you still up for giving this beginner a few pointers?” I offer his back a light scratch.

“You bet.” Holt smolders into me as if he’s ready to give me a whole lot more than I bargained for. “You did great at dinner. And you’re killing the dance floor.”

“So what’s next?” I wet my lips without meaning to.

A tall, dark-haired guy, the one that Roxy introduced as her boyfriend the other day, pops up with his phone pointed at us. “Anything you’d like to say to the happy couples?”

“Not now, Cole.” Holt spins us around, but his friend is Johnny on the spot with the camera pointed right at us again.

“Congratulations!” I sing into the small rectangle. “I wish you many happy years. You deserve it—all of you.”

“Ditto,” Holt snarls at his buddy and tells him to take off by way of hitching his head.

“What’s the matter, Holty boy? You a little tongue tied?” Cole breaks out in a wicked grin. It’s obvious he’s enjoying the hell out of this. “I tell you what. I’m about to turn on the kiss cam for the night. Why don’t you two kick us off?”

“No thanks.” Holt pushes the camera away, but it’s becoming quickly obvious Cole is committed to the cause. “Listen up, everybody! Any couple willing to smooch for the kiss cam tonight gets a drink on the house.”

“That’s coming out of your tips.” Holt tries to turn us away from his friend’s digital wrath, but Cole is stealth and right back in our face with his cell phone.

“First couple of the night,” he bellows. “Will they or won’t they?”

Oh shit. My heart seizes. My muscles cramp up. My entire body pulsates with a heartbeat of its own.

Slowly the bodies on the dance floor come to a stop, and, before I know it, half the bar is focused in on us.

“You in, kitten?” Holt looks sorry for me, hurt that I’d have to be subject to this at all.

I nod just once as if it were all my body could afford—probably is.

Holt leans in and whispers, “You don’t have to do this. I own the bar. You can have any drink any time.” He gives my hand a gentle squeeze, reassuring me of my newly minted booze on command status.

“Maybe I want to earn my drink like everybody else.” Did those words just come out of my mouth? “I mean, you did say you’d be willing to teach me
everything
,” I whisper. “I’m in.”

It’s as if a flare just went off straight through my skull, blowing out every self-imposed sanction I’ve ever given myself. A shiver rails through me, shaving me down to the bone at the prospect of kissing Holt right here in front of everyone. It feels dreamlike, like something that borders a nightmare, and you’re not sure what direction it’ll take.

My heart bangs in my chest as if it’s trying to tap out. The floor starts to sway all on its own. There’ve been a few boys who have tried to sneak in a kiss over the years. Of course, each one of those episodes ended with me bolting. My legs start to shift as if preparing for the sprint to my car. I hike my shoulder up without thinking—affirming the fact I’ve still got my purse with me. I can always make up some lame excuse if my feet decide to carry me to the parking lot. It’s worked before.

The crowd breaks out in a chant of
kiss, kiss, kiss,
and I can feel our heads magnetizing toward one another. Here it is. A moment I thought I never wanted, and yet, all of a sudden, I don’t think I can live without.

My heart leaps into my throat, thrashing around like a fish out of water. My body explodes with the heat of a nuclear explosion. Holt’s lids grow heavy until finally they close. He comes in until our lips brush over one another soft as melted butter, and a spasm of heat rips through me from head to toe.

An audible moan gets trapped in my chest as I lean in for more. Holt meets me right there as his lips move slowly over mine, warm, so incredibly cushioned. The crowd with their wild cheers—the music—the bar, it all fades to nothing as Holt gently pulls his lips over mine. Then the unthinkable happens. My mouth falls open, and I let him in. His teeth clash with mine. His tongue comes to me with a gentle sweep at first then an all out aggression as it mingles with mine. My stomach explodes with a thousand butterflies with wings of fire, and the flames sear right down to my feet.

This is my moment—our moment, and I wish nothing more than for the dance floor to swallow us whole so we can be alone, doing just this, surrendering to one another for the rest of time immemorial. Holt and I are teetering on my own personal oblivion, staring down each one of my demons in the face. This, right here, is where the old me ends and the new me begins—with Holt Edwards—with his gentle persuasive kisses, I think I can cross the threshold and make it to the other side.

Mostly.

Holt

Holy shit.

Here it is. The summer I’ve waited for my entire life.

My insides grind. Ready or not, I’m coming to life in my boxers. For what it’s worth, I’m struggling to keep it together. It’s so easy to buy into the fact this is just another wet dream starring Izzy Sawyer. There’s no way I’m publically making out with Izzy during waking hours right here at the bar.

Her tongue moves over mine, smooth and slow. For as much as she’s hinted she’s new at all this, she’s pretty damn good at what she’s doing. Kissing Izzy is like falling into a warm lake at midnight. It’s paradise, bliss, one erotic second after the other.

“
Hey.
” Bryson comes up from behind. “Your parents are here, so is her mom. Keep it G, dude.” He walks on by as if he never said a word.

I pull back and take her in. Her lips are rosy, her cheeks flushed, and she’s looking up at me with a dreamy look in her eye. At least that’s what my ego is feeding me.

“You okay?” I’m half afraid she’ll slap me straight and run for the exit.

“I’m fine.” She shakes her head as if coming out of a trance. “Wow.” Her gaze falls to her feet. “Thank you for that.”

“Thank
you
.” I raise my brows. “I believe I owe you a drink. Whiskey?”

“Only the best.” She gives a quick wink. “But I’m driving, so I’ll take a rain check.”

The music picks up pace, and the dance floor swarms with a small army of girls spontaneously kicking off their heels. Laney bumps her hip into Izzy.

“Podiatrist.” She glares at her sister a moment before offering me a dry smile. I’ve seen that look on Laney’s face enough to know she’s more than a little pissed.

“Podiatrist?”

“It’s my Wednesday night fright.” Her shoulders hike to her ears. The light shines from her lips, and I want to kiss it off. “The next date on the list.”

The thought of Izzy going out on a date with anyone but me fills my stomach with battery acid.

“Sounds like you might need a little more practice to help get things off on the right foot.” Shit. Did I just say that? What I should have said was forget the foot doctor, and let me take you somewhere so we can replicate that kiss over and over.

“Practice, huh?” Her body tenses against mine as she holds back a laugh.

Great. Make her think that kiss was anything less than stellar.

“No, that’s not right. You’ve got it down, Iz,” I whisper so low I’m not sure she heard. “You’re perfect.” She takes a breath as her body presses against my chest. She looks up, and, for one glorious second, I think she’s gunning for another kiss. Izzy takes a full step back and irons out her jeans with her hands. I reel her back in by the fingers. “If you want that whiskey, you can come to my place anytime. I serve it with grilled cheese and a smile just so you know what you’re getting yourself into, kitten.”

She swallows hard. “Maybe I will. And maybe you can help me work on my lip-lock. I think you’re right. I’m a little rusty.”

I shake my head. “You’re not rusty.” Izzy can give pointers to every girl I’ve ever been with. That might have been her first kiss in a while, but what she was offering was miles ahead of the game compared to anything I’ve ever received. Izzy’s kiss, much like the rest of her, is sheer perfection. “But I’m not one to turn a person away when they’re in need of help.” I hold back the goofy grin trying to etch itself over my face. Just the thought of tasting those lips again has my body begging to defy gravity.

“You’re a good friend.” Her eyes widen when she says that last word.

Friend.

And there it is. That’s all Izzy wants with me—a friendship. But I’m getting the feeling that’s all she wants with anyone. Ironic since that’s me in a nutshell.

Annie bounces over and signs to me.

“She says my parents want to speak with me for a minute.”

“No problem. I’d better head home before my cats think I’ve abandoned them. If I’m gone too long they have a tendency to drown my nightie in their water bowl.”