Stolen Kiss with the Single Mom Read online

  The sooner she snuck away from this party, the better.

  Why had she thought she could attend an engagement party? Wasn’t that like having all her shattered dreams tossed right into her face? A vivid reminder of her own engagement party?

  Romantic happiness was like a vapor. Here one moment, gone the next. Riley had sworn off pursuing that elusive mirage. Life was so much better since she had.

  She gripped her glass tighter. She should have known Johnny would invade her thoughts tonight. She had known.

  Laughing a bit too loudly at a comment someone made, Riley wanted to fall through the floor. Surely enough time had passed that she could leave without being noticed?

  She glanced at her fitness watch. Her heart sank. Had she really only been there just over thirty minutes? How was that possible when it seemed hours had gone by since she’d arrived a little late, with her roommate Cassie and her on-again, off-again boyfriend Sam?

  An hour. She had to stay at least an hour.

  Then she could go home, change into something comfortable, eat celery while telling herself it tasted way better than chocolate, grab her six-pound Maltese terrier, and lie on the hammock in her backyard to let the night sky and her loving dog soothe away her raw nerves.

  Across the room, Justin Brothers clanged his glass, causing the crowd to hush.“Can I have your attention, please?”

  Oh, he had Riley’s attention, all right. Way too often and almost non-stop since she’d arrived and seen him putting shame to every other man present in his tailored black pants and perfect-fitting light blue button-down shirt. He’d undone a couple of buttons at his throat and rolled up his sleeves to reveal tanned mid-forearms. He looked phenomenal. Someone should put him on a billboard.

  Yep, her attention was had. Which was unfortunate. You’d think an engagement party that had caused an outbreak of botched wedding memories would douse her reaction to Justin, but he still left her feeling unsettled.

  “We’re here tonight to celebrate Paul and Cheyenne’s engagement,” he continued, glancing to where the happy couple stood next to one another.

  Riley’s gaze followed, taking note of Paul’s arm around Cheyenne’s waist, his hand resting at his fiancée’s lower back as she smiled up at him with her heart and a lifetime of dreams shining in her eyes.

  Once upon a time Johnny had held her and she’d smiled adoringly at him, oblivious to his cheating ways.

  Ugh. Riley fought a wave of nausea and finished off the champagne she wasn’t supposed to drink until after the toast.

  Staring into her empty glass, she grimaced. Oops.

  Moving away from the friends she’d been talking to, she grabbed another glass from a nearby tray to participate in the toast to the happy couple.

  Relationships always started with smiles and happiness. It was what came later that brought tears and heartache. Grief. Humiliation. Pity.

  Drinking champagne inappropriately.

  Poor Cheyenne.

  Cheyenne wouldn’t listen, though. Hadn’t Riley already tried to warn her friend to no avail that she was making a mistake? Cheyenne had hugged her and told her that someday someone was going to come along to heal all the wounds Johnny had inflicted.

  Which was naïve and completely ridiculous.

  Riley did not need or want someone to come along and “heal” her. She was healed—and she had learned valuable life lessons her friend had yet to experience.

  Riley prayed she never would.

  Tightening her hold on her new glass, she focused on where Justin was still talking, giving his toast to the couple. He was Paul’s best man and he was taking his duties seriously, delivering one heck of a spiel about love and commitment.

  As if he knew anything about those things.

  “So, let’s raise our glasses to Paul and Cheyenne, celebrate their love, and wish them a long, happy life together.”

  Riley did wish that for her friend. She just didn’t believe it was possible. Still, she raised her glass, faked a smile as she clinked her glass against the nearby guests’ glasses, then took a sip. A long sip that almost emptied her glass.

  When she looked back toward Justin her eyes collided with his blue ones, as they often did. Probably because he was wondering why she couldn’t stop looking at him.

  Heaven help her, but it would be easy to fall into that man’s eyes and drown in their mesmerizing depths.

  She ordered her own eyes to move, to look at the pretty landscape surrounding the porch, the ornate bushes, the small trees and colorful plants—anything other than Justin.

  Her eyes refused to budge, preferring to submerge themselves in vivid blue.

  Maybe he’d put a spell over her. Because not only would her eyes not avert, but her ability to fake anything vanished.

  She knew it because she saw concern flicker on his face.

  She didn’t want his concern.

  She was fine.

  Better than fine.

  Only...

  Only nothing.

  Shunning the emotions rocking her, she clamped her armor and her fake smile back into place and raised her glass to him in acknowledgement of his toast.

  His gaze searching hers, he raised his glass back.

  In unison, eyes locked, they took a drink.

  Riley swallowed, wondering if she’d had too much as her head felt dizzy. This glass was her third and would be her last.

  She rarely drank, so three glasses of champagne had to be why her insides felt so topsy-turvy. If she wasn’t careful she would soon be quite tipsy. She’d only ever been drunk once—and, really, did that night even count?

  Ha. That night counts for everything, the nagging voice that reared its ugly head from time to time reminded her.

  That night had been the end of what she’d thought the rest of her life would be and the beginning of a very different reality.

  A better reality, she reminded herself. She was strong and independent, with a job she loved, a home and dog she loved, and a good life. It was no big deal that she was faking smiles and just about everything else.

  Sighing, then realizing she’d done so for real rather than just in her head, Riley jerked her gaze away from Justin, emptied her glass, and took in the partygoers around her.

  Most everyone was paired up. Anywhere she went, she was one of the few singles. She’d known the engagement party wouldn’t be any different. What she hadn’t known was that Justin would attend alone.

  On the few times she’d seen him outside the hospital he’d always had a beautiful woman on his arm.

  Ugh. What good was it to not be looking at him if she was just going to keep thinking about him? She needed to stop.

  She didn’t know which was worse: the flashbacks to her almost-wedding or making googly eyes at Justin. One had left her battle-scarred. The other was like stepping into the line of fire, begging to reopen wounds better left alone.

  “You okay?”

  Riley choked on the champagne that hadn’t gone down yet. She tried to look as if the liquid wasn’t clogging her airway, but quickly gave up when doing so meant not breathing. She coughed repeatedly, attempting to clear the gurgling from her throat.

  “I was before you came over here and startled me,” she accused, once she could form a sentence, hoping her watering eyes wouldn’t ruin her mascara. “Why did you sneak up on me that way?”

  Watching her closely, no doubt wondering if he needed to do some kind of medical maneuver to clear her throat, he quipped, “You mean in that walking across the terrace in plain sight way?”

  She coughed one last time, took a deep breath, and appreciated it when it didn’t trigger further hacking. “Yeah, that would be the way.”

  “For the record, my question referred to before your excellent dying from pneumonia impersonation.” His lips twitched. “Glad to see yo
u made a quick recovery.”

  Riley rolled her eyes. She might enjoy their banter at the hospital, but at an engagement party, with three glasses of champagne flowing through her, thinning her protective armor, not so much.

  “No thanks to you,” she complained, reminding herself to keep her eyes focused on his face and not let them drop to that sexy V revealed by those loosened buttons. “You could have at least slapped my back a few times.”

  “And have you accused me of drumming up business by cracking a few ribs?” His grin was infectious, making his eyes twinkle. “I don’t think so.”

  Why did the man have to be so good-looking? So—so everything?

  “I said slapping my back, not breaking bones.” Although she was fighting against smiling, she gave him a stern look. “Jeez, men and their having to flex muscles every chance they get...”

  He was unfazed, and his eyes danced. “You don’t want to see me flex my muscles, Riley?”

  Um, yeah, she’d like to see him do that...

  “Not that way,” she denied, gulping at her big fat lie and wondering at what she even meant. This party, maybe him, too, had her so flustered she was making no sense.

  “Is there some other way you’d like to see my muscles flex?” He pounced on her goof. “I’d be happy to oblige.”

  “I’ll pass, since I see all the muscle-flexing from you that I want to see in the operating room, when you’re pulling and tugging on patients.”

  “My talents extend beyond surgery.”

  Heaven help her, she was about to go into a coughing fit again.

  “I’m sure they do,” she managed to say, knowing he was waiting.

  “You should let me show you sometime.”

  Riley refused to take him seriously. “Ah, poor Justin. Are you upset you don’t have a date tonight?”

  Eyes locked with hers, he shook his head. “Quite the opposite. I purposely came alone.”

  Surprised, and further flustered by his answer and his look, Riley stared at him. “Why would a muscle-flexing guy like you do something like that?”

  “I was hoping you’d be here without a date.”

  The South Carolina humidity had just gone into overdrive and was drenching her skin.

  Resisting the urge to fan herself, she tilted her chin upward. “What good would that do you?”

  “Based on past experience? Not one bit.” Looking way too charming, he gave a self-deprecating laugh. “But a guy can hope you’ll take pity and at least say yes to one dance.”

  Dance with Justin?

  Riley gulped at the thought of wrapping her arms around his neck, of his arms around her waist. She’d need more than her hands to fan her if she agreed to that. Something along the lines of the jet blast from a Boeing 747.

  “Maybe later,” she answered, thinking that if she said no he’d persist, and that if she said yes he’d pull her onto the dance floor with the other couples now.

  “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  Most likely he’d move on to one of the few other dateless women there, all of whom she’d seen talking to him at different points since arriving.

  “Maybe you’d like to see the gardens? There’s a small lake with a fountain just over that rise. I’m told it’s worth the short walk.” He gestured beyond the porch to a lighted walkway.

  Getting away from the party appealed more than getting away from Justin.

  She set her glass down on a table, then nodded. “Please.”

  Seeming surprised she’d agreed, he smiled. “You just made my night.”

  His smile was so genuine, so endearing, her breath caught. She fought against saying she’d changed her mind and was leaving the party she hadn’t wanted to attend to begin with. Even though that was what a smart girl would do.

  Her IQ was dropping by the second.

  “You wish,” she quipped, not waiting for him as she headed toward the path he’d pointed out.

  He quickly fell into step beside her as they made their way along the cobblestoned walkway. Trimmed bushes, flowers, and solar-powered lights bordered either side, giving a sense of privacy and filling the air with the scent of sweet gardenia.

  “I do, you know.”

  “Do what?” She didn’t look at him, just carefully made her way along the path, thinking she should have gone for different shoes as four-inch heels weren’t ideal for garden walkways.

  When she’d chosen them she’d been thinking of how the extra height would make her look taller, feel thinner, more in control during what she’d known would be a rough experience.

  “Wish you had just made my night,” he clarified.

  At his response, Riley stumbled, reaching out to keep herself from falling at the same time as he moved to catch her.

  She fell into his arms. Literally.

  Embarrassed, she glanced up, both cursing and blessing her heels. They’d caused her to stumble, but they also gave her the vantage point to more easily look into his eyes.

  Blessing? She wasn’t supposed to be looking into Justin’s eyes—much less easily. Nor was she supposed to be pressed against his hard body.

  Oh, my!

  “Well, hello, there,” he teased, not stepping back from where he held her.

  Neither did she. Which was a problem. Why was she not removing her body from where it was plastered to his? And why, oh, why did he feel so wonderful? So solid and chiseled to perfection?

  Not to mention that his spicy clean scent was pulling a wicked number... She’d gotten whiffs of that clean, all-man smell in the OR, but had never allowed herself to really take it in. Where was an alcohol pad when she needed one to block it out?

  Unable to stop herself, Riley breathed in through her nose, filling her nostrils, her lungs, her being, with Justin.

  Goodness, the man was intoxicating. His body, his smell. The way he was looking down at her.

  His heart pounded hard against her chest as his gaze dropped to her mouth. She parted her lips, planning to apologize for falling, but nothing came out.

  His hands trembled slightly where they pressed against her back. His throat worked as he swallowed, and then, surprising her, he closed his eyes.

  The walkway lights flickered over his face, allowing Riley to see how the skin was pulled tightly across his cheeks, how he was struggling with something. Not something... With her and how their bodies were responding to one another.

  “Justin?”

  He opened his eyes.

  “I feel as if I should be asking you if you’re okay,” she mused, still not moving out of his arms.

  She’d thought it was his heart pounding against her chest. It wasn’t. It was her own, banging so violently against her rib cage that he might be black and blue if he didn’t step away.

  He didn’t. Instead, his hands moved from her lower back to caress her face.

  “I’m good,” he assured her.

  She’d bet he was, and she wanted to know more.

  Which scared her.

  Terrified her.

  Just as she’d worked up the strength to pry her body from his, he bent to touch his lips to hers. A soft brushing of his mouth, slow, gentle, in a show of great restraint because she felt the way his body tensed.

  Lord help her for what she felt as his mouth coaxed hers to open, to allow him to explore to his heart’s content.

  Riley’s head spun. That was how Justin made her feel. Spinning out of control.

  A single moment or an eternity might have passed during their embrace. Riley couldn’t have sworn one way or the other. Just knew that Justin’s kiss took her beyond the realm of time, place, anything...

  All that mattered was his kiss, how when she opened her eyes and looked into his what she saw weakened her knees. Mostly because what she saw there was reflected in her own for him to see.
>
  But she didn’t want him seeing behind her carefully guarded walls—didn’t want anyone glimpsing behind her armor, least of all Justin.

  What had she done?

  She needed to run, to put as much distance between them as her high heels would let her.

  But other than to tremble at the gravity of what was happening, her body didn’t move.

  Holding her close, he smiled. “That was worth waiting for.”

  Stunned at his admission, she blinked. “You were waiting to kiss me?”

  Brushing a few loose hairs away from her face, he nodded. “You know I was.”

  No, she didn’t know that.

  Wrong. She did know.

  She knew. And there was no more denying what she’d been denying for months.

  What she’d been wanting for months.

  Justin.

  Copyright © 2020 by Janice Lynn

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  ISBN: 9781488066290

  Stolen Kiss with the Single Mom

  Copyright © 2020 by Denise Chavers

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.