Every Kiss(8)

“Nice shoes.” A strangely familiar deep voice echoes from the living area the moment I take the last step off the staircase.

I jump and turn around, ready to scold Shane for scaring the shit out of me, and I meet the unyielding gaze of a familiar face. “Uh, excuse me? How did you get in here?”

The stranger—a damn fine one, at that—seems pissed as he stands to dig in his pocket, holding out a set of keys on his index finger. “I have a key. And you’re definitely Lucy. No question about it.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “And you must be . . .”

“Thirsty.” He saunters into the kitchen and pulls a bottle of dark amber liquid and a lowball glass from the cabinet. He fills it three-quarters full with practiced accuracy and tosses in two ice cubes and the tiniest splash of cola. After swirling it around a little, he throws it back easily, as if it’s only water, until there’s only ice left clinking in the glass. He’s quite different than he was before. Earlier, he was a little flirty, but now something seems off. He’s intimidating to the point that I’m uneasy, and that’s hard to do. There’s this dark feeling floating around him like a thick fog, spreading and infecting him and the air we breathe like a noxious poison.

Once he starts refilling the glass again in the same manner, I can’t help but making a comment. “I see that. But don’t you think it’s rude to start the party before everyone else gets here?”

“It’s not rude if you’re the guest of honor.”

“Oh.” I can feel myself blushing. What the hell? I never blush. “You’re the brother?”

“So it seems.” Tall, Dark, and Moody finishes filling his glass and walks to the end of the island, extending his hand and none too pleased about it. “Wes.”

I slip my hand into his. “Callie, and also embarrassed.”

He shrugs, still holding my hand. “Don’t be. Where did Shane and Makenna go?”

“Picking up a few last minute things. They shouldn’t be much longer.” I realize we’re still holding hands, and I pull mine away. “Maybe I should call them and let them know you’re here.”

“No need. Shane was the one who told me to be here at this time. He even texted me to see if I was here yet, right when I was pulling in the driveway.”

“Well, that must mean they’re on their way, then.” God, I hope so. This guy is intense. Although I’m glad I was wrong about his appearance, I expected Shane’s brother to act more like him. Always smiling, fun, playful. His brother, on the other hand, is broody and dark. The fact that he’s also powerfully mysterious and sinfully sexy is beside the point.

Jeez, Cal.

“So, uh . . . I think I’ll go upstairs and touch up my makeup.”

“You don’t have to run away on my account. You stay. I’ll go.” He doesn’t allow me to respond. He just bounds up the stairs and into the room adjoining mine. I guess it’s not Shane’s room next to mine after all. It’s his. Luckily, Shane mentioned that no one would be staying there, so I guess he’s not planning on being here all night. I don’t know how I’d ever sleep, knowing he’s just on the other side of the wall.

I grab my cell phone from the counter and send Makenna a text. She needs to hurry up and get her ass back here.



Me: ‘Just met Wes. NOTHING at all like Shane. Get back here and save me from Mr. Moody.’



And within seconds, she replies.



Mak: ‘Moody? Wes? He’s a man of few words, but he’s always sweet.’



Before I can start my reply, he appears again, grabbing his forgotten glass from the counter and snagging the bottle from the cabinet. With a terse nod in my direction, he goes back upstairs.



Me: ‘Man of few words. Totally. Sweet? You’ve got to be kidding me.’

Mak: ‘Not at all.’

Me: ‘In less than 10 mins, downed a glass of whiskey, working on a second, and took the bottle with him. Pretty sure he hates me. I’m telling you…moody.’

Mak: ‘Shane says something must be wrong. Be there in five.’



True to her word, Makenna walks through the door with Shane only minutes later with a huge cake box.

“Anything left in the car that I need to get?”

Shane drops the bags on the counter. “Just the ice left, but the cooler is too heavy. I’ll get it in a minute. Where is he?”

I point upstairs.

His sigh is almost a groan. “Damn it.” He begins to ascend the stairs and waves his hand at everything left out on the counter. “Hey, Mak, don’t worry about all that stuff. I’ll take care of it in a bit. You can go ahead and get ready.”