About That Kiss Read online

  “But I’ve never liked you,” Gib said.

  Joe felt a rough laugh leave him. “Yeah, well, that’s not exactly new information.”

  Gib didn’t smile. “I’m going to trust that everyone knows something about you I don’t, that you’re a good guy.”

  What was he supposed to say to that?

  “You going to take good care of her,” Gib said.

  Joe nodded. “I am.”

  Gib went back to his computer screen.

  And thus, apparently temporarily vetted, Joe headed through to the back. He found Kylie in a huge apron, covered in sawdust, large protective goggles on her face. She was bent over a saw, milling something that was sending sparks and more sawdust into the air that circled her like a puffy cloud as she worked with great concentration.

  Afraid to startle her, he stood there and watched a moment, marveling at how just laying eyes on her warmed his heart and eased his soul. He’d grown soft, he realized, by allowing her in. But there was no going back for him. He’d rather suffer the weakness of loving her and having her in his life than reverting to his empty life before her.

  He was just damn lucky—and grateful—that she seemed to feel the same way, that she’d been willing to fight him, fight for him. He waited until she stopped, turned off the saw, and eyed whatever she was working on before moving closer.

  She whipped around, and at the sight of him, sent a brilliant smile in his direction, at once making his day, his week, his month, his entire life.

  “Hey,” she said. She tossed off the goggles and threw herself at him.

  He caught her up and lowered his head, finding her lips with his, trying to promise everything he didn’t have words for.

  “Mmm,” she said when the kiss ended, leaving her eyes closed, her mouth curving. “Missed that.”

  He’d left her bed six hours earlier and he was quite certain he’d kissed her thoroughly then too. Every inch of her. “I’ve got something for you,” he said.

  Her eyes flew open as he carefully lowered her back to the ground. Her leg was healing up just fine, but it still bothered her some and he could tell by the slight tremor in her body that she’d pushed herself too far today. “Sit.”

  “Gimme,” she said. “One of Tina’s muffins?” she asked hopefully.

  “Something even better. Sit first.”

  She rolled her eyes but sat on a stool.

  He pulled her beloved penguin from his pocket.

  Her mouth curved in a little oh! of surprise as she held out her hands for it. “It didn’t burn,” she breathed, hugging it to her chest.

  “There wasn’t a lot that made it out,” he said, “but several of your grandpa’s pieces actually did. It was all being held as evidence until today.”

  She looked up, her eyes meeting his. “There’s more,” she guessed.

  He reached into another pocket and pulled out a second small wooden carving. Another penguin, the mirror image of the one she held.

  She gasped. “Ohmigod, there are two? This one was on the boat too?”

  “No.”

  She looked up. “Then where?”

  “A while back you told me you thought maybe there might be more carvings, so I did some digging and tracked it down.”

  She looked boggled. “What? How?”

  “Your mom had your grandpa’s files, or what was left of them, and I went through them. I found a bill of sale from years ago and contacted the buyer, who was actually an ex of your grandpa’s. He’d given her the penguin and she still had it. She said it was a memory keeper. When I told her your story, she changed her mind. She wanted you to have it more than she wanted to keep it.” He shrugged. “So she sold it to me.”

  Kylie was staring at him, very still. “It had to be insanely expensive.”

  He shrugged again.

  “Joe.”

  He stroked a finger over the curve of her ear, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her it. Because he didn’t want to stop touching her, he let his fingers slip into her wild waves of hair. “I wanted you to have it.”

  Her eyes went a little shimmery with unshed tears. “But—”

  He put a finger over her lips. “I wanted to.”

  She was silent a moment, like she was so moved she couldn’t speak. “No one’s done anything like that for me,” she finally whispered and blinked the tears away. “Thank you.”

  He took the two penguins and showed her how they went together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. They’d been made as two halves of a whole.

  “They fit,” she said, marveling.

  “They do,” he agreed and met her gaze. “And so do we, Kylie.”

  She shook her head, reaching for him. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

  “I don’t,” he said, lifting her up against him again, closing his eyes, loving the feel of her in his arms. “Maybe you should tell me, slowly and in great detail.”

  She took him home and did just that.

  An Excerpt from Rainy Day Friends

  Keep reading for a sneak peek at Jill Shalvis’ next women’s fiction novel,

  RAINY DAY FRIENDS

  Coming Summer 2018!

  Chapter 1

  Anxiety Girl, able to jump to the worst conclusion in a single bound!

  Most of the time Karma was a bitch, but every once in a while she could be surprisingly nice, even kind. Lanie Jacobs, way past overdue for both of those things, told herself this was her time. Seize the day and all that, and drawing a deep breath, she exited the highway at Wildstone.

  The old wild-west California town was nestled in the rolling hills between the Pacific Coast and wine/ranching country. She’d actually grown up not too far from here, though it felt like a lifetime ago. The road was narrow and curvy, and since it’d rained earlier, she added tricky and slick to her growing list of issues. She was already white-knuckling a turn when a kamikaze squirrel darted into her lane, causing her to nearly swerve into oncoming traffic before remembering the rules of country driving.

  Never leave your lane; not for weather, animals or even God himself.

  Luckily the squirrel reversed direction, but before she could relax, she was then nearly killed by a trio of young buck bounding across the road, giving her a bad flashback to the first time she’d been trusted driving alone with her dad’s car. She’d come out of that with no injuries but the deer hadn’t made it and neither had her dad’s beloved Jeep.

  Nerves sizzling like live wires, she finally turned onto Capriotti Lane and parked as she’d been instructed.

  Shе took a moment, waiting for her pulse to reducе itself down from stroke lеvel. She’d been taught anti-anxiеty techniques, but shе’d nеver quite figurеd out how to makе any of thеm work while in thе actual throеs of an anxiety attack. Luckily, she did finally find hеr legs and got out of hеr car.

  It’s all good shе triеd to tell hеrsеlf but shе wasn’t buying what shе was selling. She forcеd hеrself out of the car becausе dammit, shе wasn’t five-yеars-old and starting kindergartеn. Shе was thirty and facing a brand-nеw job. Big dеal. Givеn all she’d bеen through, this should be easy. Even fun. But sometimеs adulthood felt likе the vet’s office and she was the dog еxcited for thе car ride only to find out the real destination.

  Shaking hеr head, she forcеd her feet across the parking lot. It was April, which mеant the rolling hills to the еast wеre greеn and lush, and thе Pacific Ocеan to the wеst lookеd like a surfer’s drеam, all of it so gorgeous it could’vе bееn a postcard. A beautiful scrееn ovеr hеr not-so-beautiful past.

  The air was scеntеd like a really expеnsivе sea-and-еarth candle though Laniе smеllеd only hеr forgottеn hopes and drеams. Wood chips crunched under her shoes as she hеaded through thе entrance beneath which was a huge woodеn sign that read:

  Capriotti Winеry, from our fields to your table . . .

  Her heart spеd up. Nerves, of coursе, the bane of her existеnce. But after a vеry crappy