About That Kiss Read online

  A guy walked into the pub, his phone to his ear. He was long, lean, wearing a really great suit, and looking like a million bucks. Kylie knew his name. Caleb. He was Spence’s business partner who also sometimes dealt with Hunt Investigations. He always seemed very serious, but beyond that all she knew about him was that he was very nice to look at.

  “Relax, Susan,” he said into his cell phone as he came up to the bar. “I won’t be late. I’m in my car right now, on my way.”

  “No, he’s not, Susan!” Sadie yelled toward his phone. “He’s in a bar!”

  Caleb sent her a long look.

  “Sorry, Suits,” she said unapologetically as she casually sipped her lunch. “No one lies to Susan in front of me.”

  Caleb narrowed his eyes. Sadie smiled without showing teeth. In response, he pointed at her and then moved away from them.

  “‘Suits’?” Kylie asked Sadie.

  Sadie shrugged. “He wears more money on his broad shoulders than I make all year. It’s annoying.”

  “There’s a story here,” Kylie guessed. “I think I want to hear it.”

  “He’s just too uptight.”

  “You two a thing?”

  “He’s too uptight,” Sadie repeated. “Plus, I actually like being single. I get to be selfish with my time and personal space. I can leave the top off the toothpaste and sleep like a starfish.”

  All true.

  When Molly finally texted her that Joe was preparing to leave, Kylie exited the pub. She made her way to the parking lot where Joe kept his truck. She was leaning against it when he strolled up five minutes later. He was in work gear, which never failed to trip her pulse. Dark cargos, a long-sleeved T-shirt that fit him like it’d been made for him and God knew how many weapons she couldn’t see. He had a duffle bag hanging off one broad shoulder and his phone to his ear.

  He wore dark aviator sunglasses, but she knew he was looking at her as he finished up his call before slipping his cell into one of his million pockets. “What happened to your hand?” he asked.

  She looked down at the gauze wrapped around her palm. “Splinter.”

  “You get it out?”

  “Haley did.”

  “You clean it good?”

  “Again, Haley.”

  He nodded and studied her. “So . . .”

  “So . . .” She bit her lower lip.

  He raised a brow. “So what are you doing here, Kylie?”

  “Catching a ride.” She wished she had a pair of sunglasses that made her look even half as badass cool as he did.

  And though he hadn’t smiled in greeting at her, he did so at Vinnie, reaching out to ruffle the top of the dog’s head affectionately. “And where are you catching a ride to?” he asked.

  “Wherever you’re going. I presume to someone on the list, right?”

  He didn’t sigh. Joe didn’t give away his emotions that easily. But she sensed his irritation as he gave Vinnie one last pat and beeped his truck unlocked. Kylie jumped into the passenger seat before he could turn her away.

  Joe slid behind the wheel, expression a little tight. He wasn’t happy. The irony didn’t escape her. After a very long dry spell, she’d kissed two men in the past week. One who wanted to be with her and one who didn’t.

  And here she sat with the man who didn’t. Clearly she needed help. And as she clicked into the seatbelt, she told herself she was doubly grateful Joe hadn’t called her after the infamous kiss, because seriously? She’d gotten a little drunk at a bar and kissed some guy? This guy? The wrong-for-her guy? Who was she, her own damn mother?

  Kissing the wrong man was her mom’s MO, as was making poor decisions when it came to the male species. Or life, really. Kylie didn’t want to be that person or make those mistakes. And Joe, sexy and hot as he was, represented exactly that—the mistakes she’d seen all during her growing up years, the kind of men her mom had always brought home, the guy who burned hot and fast and then disappointed and disappeared.

  But for all her determination to not be her mom, to live life more seriously and be content just watching the fun happen around her, she had an embarrassing truth. For that five minutes she’d been in Joe’s arms, she’d been transported. Transfixed.

  And aroused beyond belief.

  None of which she’d felt in Gib’s arms earlier. Shaking that off, she asked, “So where are we going?”

  “The Embarcadero,” Joe said. “Rowena Butterfield was your grandpa’s last apprentice.”

  “Ro,” Kylie said with a smile. Rowena was a throwback to a flower power child of the sixties. She was in her forties, but seemed timeless, and she was a real talent as well. Her grandpa had loved her and so had Kylie. “She’s great. She didn’t have anything to do with this, Joe.”

  “She was fired from her last job for questionable behavior and she’s now selling her wares at a little stand near Pier 39.”

  “No,” Kylie said. “No way.”

  “Yes way.”

  She slid him a look. “Define ‘questionable behavior.’”

  “She stole a hundred-year-old bottle of wine from a winery and when confronted, hit the winery employee over the head with the bottle.”

  Okay, so that was definitely questionable behavior, but she shook her head. “That can’t be right.”

  Joe didn’t comment. He drove them through the city to the Embarcadero, where he parked. She started to get out of the truck along with him but he pointed at her.

  “No,” he said.

  She arched a brow. “I’m sorry. What?”

  “You’re staying here. The rug rat too. I’m starving, so if I pick up some food, what do you want?”

  The guy was a contradiction from head to toe. Badass and ready to save the world one minute, deceptively playful the next. He was constantly hungry and on the perpetual search for food. She had no idea where he put the million-plus calories he consumed in a day. “I’m not staying in the truck,” she said.

  He pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and gave her what was surely a patented you’re driving me crazy look. “Yes, you are.”

  She crossed her arms. “The only way that’s going to happen is if you handcuff me,” she said. “You going to handcuff me, Joe?”

  There was a very slight softening around his mouth and his eyes heated. “Only if you ask me real nice.”

  Her every single erogenous zone quivered, and she had more of them than she remembered having. “You do realize this is the twenty-first century and men don’t get to tell women no anymore, right?” she asked.

  “Kylie, this woman can ID you.”

  “Well, yes,” she admitted.

  “So you stay here. You too,” he said to Vinnie, who licked Joe’s finger.

  “Wait.” She was so not okay with this, even if a little part of her wanted to lick Joe’s finger too, amongst other body parts. “I—”

  “She knows you, Kylie. Presumably she likes you. She’s never going to admit to stealing your carving if you’re standing right there while I question her.”

  Okay, so maybe he had a point.

  Joe studied her for a moment and then, apparently satisfied that she was going to stay, he nodded. “I’ll be back.”

  She waited three minutes and then got out of the truck, but not before “borrowing” a big black hoodie from his backseat and what was clearly a spare pair of sunglasses in his console. She pulled the sweatshirt on over hers, hood up, slid on the sunglasses, and glanced at herself in the mirror. She was so keeping the sunglasses.

  “There,” she said to Vinnie. “Incognito. What do you think?”

  Vinnie cocked his head to one side and then the other, his ears quivering with excitement. He sensed an adventure. He loved adventures. She put him on a leash and headed to Pier 39, eyes peeled for Joe.

  There was an area in front of the pier where individual vendors sold their wares. The place was crowded with people, mostly tourists, giving her plenty of cover.

  She and Vinnie stopped at the firs