About That Kiss Read online

  But only one.

  “I knew you’d want it,” Gib said. “I left it for you on your kitchen table.”

  Kylie nodded. “Okay, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Gib didn’t leave. In fact, he crossed his arms and set his feet, still holding Joe’s gaze. “Thought maybe we could catch up on one of our shows. Iron Chef?”

  “Cute,” Joe said.

  “It’s one of her faves,” Gib said.

  Right. And Joe didn’t know her faves because they didn’t watch TV together. They didn’t do anything together because . . . well, because he was an idiot who’d let Kylie think he didn’t want anything serious, that he couldn’t be serious. He turned to go, but Kylie put a hand on his arm.

  “Joe.”

  He stepped back a step so that her hand fell away. “It’s late,” he said. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Joe.”

  Resisting a sigh, he met her gaze.

  She stepped in to him and said quietly for his ears only, “Look, I’m sorry. He has a key because, as you know, I tend to lose or forget mine and—”

  “You don’t owe me an explanation, Kylie.”

  She stared up at him. “Fine,” she said.

  “Fine.” He held her gaze, saw the bad temper in it, and thought, fuck it. He didn’t need this. Hell, he didn’t even understand this. So he turned and walked away.

  Behind him, her front door slammed shut. With both her and Gib on the other side.

  “Fine,” he repeated to the night. Yeah. He was a fucking fine asshole, is what he was.

  Kylie turned from her front door, leaned back against it with her arms crossed and stared at Gib. “What was that?”

  “I told you, you forgot your check—”

  “The truth, Gib.”

  He held eye contact before he blew out a breath and looked away. “I hate the way you’re suddenly so into him, okay?”

  “Not okay.”

  He sighed and stared down at his shoes, rubbing the back of his neck. “Things aren’t the same between us anymore. It’s all wrong.” He lifted his head. “And it’s scaring me.”

  “What’s wrong is that you’ve confused me,” she said. “You knew I had a crush on you since the fifth grade and yet you never let on that you had any feelings toward me in that way. Not until Joe showed up in the shop. Then suddenly you’re asking me out and trying to get closer.”

  “Maybe seeing Joe look at you like you’re lunch opened my eyes to what I’ve felt all along,” he admitted. “But what does that matter?” His eyes warmed as he took a step toward her. “There could definitely be something between us. I know it.”

  She stared at him, trying to reconcile her feelings. It wasn’t easy, but there was a big difference between a childhood crush and an adult love. “Just tell me this,” she said quietly. “If you felt something for me all this time, why did you wait so long?”

  He shook his head, his expression earnest. “I couldn’t go there with you. Not when your grandpa . . .” He shook his head, looking pained. “He gave me everything, Ky. No matter how I felt for you, it never seemed right.”

  “He’s been gone a long time.”

  He opened his mouth and she held up her hand. “No, wait. I don’t want to do this right now. I’m tired. Please, just go.”

  “You want me to leave?” he asked in disbelief.

  “Yes, I do.” She opened the front door. “Because at the end of the day, I still want to be your friend and employee. And I’m afraid if you keep talking, that would all be in jeopardy because I might kill you.”

  He shook his head. “So we’re seriously not even going to try?”

  “I think you missed your shot.”

  He looked startled, like that had been the last thing he’d expected her to say, which somehow made her feel even stronger about her decision. “We aren’t each other’s the One, Gib.”

  His eyes held sincere affection and equally sincere regret. And also carefully banked lust. All this time she’d yearned to see just that and here it was, and the only thing she felt was . . . unmoved.

  “If I could change things,” he said, “If I could go back and kick my younger self in the ass and tell him not to save the best for last, I would.” And then he was gone.

  And she was digging into her freezer, soothing her what-ifs and uncertain heart with cookie dough ice cream.

  The next afternoon, Joe sat at work, distracted as hell as the team meeting went on without him. He tried to mentally check in before Archer kicked his ass. But it’d already been a rough day. They’d gone after a high bond that had been about to be forfeited if the bondee, Milo Santini, didn’t show up for his court date. Milo had a record, was known to be armed at all times, and wasn’t a nice guy. So it was no surprise when his takedown had gone bad.

  He’d been holed up in a basement of a building in the financial district when they caught up with him, and an innocent cleaning crew had nearly burned to death when Milo, cornered and spitting mad, had set fire to a huge laundry bin for a diversion.

  As a result of the ensuing takedown, Milo had gotten a little roughed up, which had led to a police inquiry. Everyone at Hunt Investigations had been cleared of misconduct, but Archer was pissed off and had spent the past hour chewing them out and going over protocol.

  Thing was, protocol had been followed.

  Well, mostly.

  Sometimes in the heat of the moment—such as when an asswipe perp had made a break for it, starting a dangerous fire that threatened innocent bystanders—things happened.

  Things like the bad guys getting punched in the face.

  It hadn’t been Joe. It’d actually been Lucas, who’d lost a brother to an arson fire. Not that any of the guys would spill on Lucas. They’d each take a bullet first. This job wasn’t easy, and they were a team by both necessity and choice, even if they each did it for their own personal reasons. In Joe’s case, he liked that they were fighting the fight for good, and in doing so, maybe he was also cleaning up his karma, even a little bit.

  He thought maybe that was Lucas’s reason too, though Lucas carried around a lot more anger than he did. Anger he channeled into doing the job really, really well.

  “Let’s review,” Archer said with a deceptively mild tone, taking a hard look around the table at his guys, Joe, Lucas, Trev, Reyes, and Max—along with Max’s Doberman, Carl—all carefully trained by Archer himself. “What steps would you take in the event of a fire?” His gaze landed on Lucas.

  Shit, Joe thought. He knew. Not that he was surprised. Archer knew everything.

  Lucas shrugged at the question. “Fucking big ones?”

  Wrong answer. Archer was still going on and on when Molly came in and dumped a couple of big brown bags on the conference table.

  Carl sat straight up and licked his big chops.

  So did the guys.

  “Grub,” Molly said, shooting Joe a careful once-over.

  She was making sure he hadn’t gotten hurt in any way. She was still freaked out about the bat he’d taken to the back of his head a few months back. But hey, he’d recovered. And it irritated him that she tried to be the protector when that was his role. He’d taken care of her his whole life—well, except for that one time he’d failed so spectacularly. His gaze traveled to her right leg as she limped her way around the table.

  Her leg and back were bothering her today, and that just about killed him because if it hadn’t been for him, she’d never have gotten hurt.

  No one dared touch the bags of food while Archer was still going off, but he’d wound down at the sight of Molly, softening enough to smile and thank her for the food. “Okay,” he said, pushing the bags down the table so everyone could reach. “I promised the cop shop I’d say all that. Now let’s move on.”

  Fucking finally. Joe listened with only half an ear as, while they all inhaled the food, Archer went over their upcoming caseload.

  When Carl whined in protest, Max tossed him a dog bone. With a longing look