Dedicated to the One I Love, page 15
“Deal.”
As he clasped her hand, her fingers slid against his palm, causing her arm to tingle. Kylie was having a moment straight out of one of her books.
And enough of that. She was an author, the one who wrote about these kinds of reactions for her fictional characters. She did not have this kind of response to Joe Edwards.
What had Joe just said? She needed to pay attention to his words, not some random tingles.
“ … so about tonight … ”
“Yes?”
It almost sounded like Joe was trying to ask her out on a date. But that couldn’t be right.
Joe was not asking her out.
Just put him in the friend zone, girl, and leave him there.
“The gang … ”—since when did Joe call his friends a gang?—“is going to watch the fireworks in Glendale. Did you decide if you wanted to go with us?”
Oh. The fireworks. How had she forgotten about that?
Because she never did anything on the Fourth of July. Ever. “I was planning on watching the fireworks on TV.”
“That’s kind of underwhelming.”
“True, but with the deadlines and everything, it makes sense. Thanks for the invitation, but—”
“Kylie?” The muffled sound of a woman’s voice came from inside the house. “Are you home?”
Kylie bolted from her chair. “No … no … ”
As she moved toward the sliding glass door leading into the house, it opened, and her mother, dressed in black slacks and a red top with hair dyed some crazy new combination of colors, stepped out. “You are home.”
“Mom. What are you doing here?”
“Did you even listen to my voicemail? I told you we’d be in the Springs in time for your birthday.” She opened her arms for a hug, but Kylie didn’t move in for an embrace. “Happy birthday!”
“I-I didn’t … I’m on deadline.”
As her mother finished off the hug, she must have caught sight of Joe over Kylie’s shoulder. “And who is this?”
Kylie stepped back. Turned. Joe had risen and was offering a particularly charming smile.
“This is Joe Edwards, a-a good friend.”
Oh, God, please don’t let Mom recognize Joe as Tate Merrick. Her mother wasn’t much of a book reader, so there was hope.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Franklin.”
“It’s Mrs. Hunter now.” Her mother tucked a lock of her permed hair, which was an odd mix of red and fuchsia, behind one ear. “And it’s nice to meet you, Joe.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t listen to my message, Kylie, but Peter and I were hoping we could take you out for your birthday … ”
“Mom, you know I don’t make a big deal about my birthday.” Kylie almost choked on the words. “Besides, I’m … I’m going to watch the fireworks with Joe and a group of friends tonight.”
“Right.” Joe didn’t miss a beat. “You’re welcome to join us, of course.”
Kylie stiffened. Please say no. Please say no.
“I’ll have to check with Peter. He’s in the RV with Rocko.”
“Rocko?”
“Our dog.”
“You have a dog?”
“Yes. Rocko is a six-month-old mini pin. Come on out and say hello to Peter and you can meet him.”
“S-sure. Let’s do that.”
For the first time in her life, Kylie regretted not listening to one of her mother’s voicemails. If she had, this fiasco could have been avoided. She’d need to be more careful in the future and apologize to Joe for using him as an out once Mom left. Kylie could only hope Mom and Peter wouldn’t take him up on the invitation to go to the fireworks.
…
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” Kylie pulled the layered taco salad from the fridge.
“You want to tell me why you didn’t mention today is your birthday?” Joe ignored her question.
“I don’t make a big deal about my birthday.”
“That’s obvious.”
“It’s no big deal.”
It’s never been a big deal.
“You’ve said that already. And yes, I’m fine with eating taco salad in the RV with your mom and her husband.” Joe grinned. “We have to think of little Rocko. He’s no match for Remington.”
Kylie muffled a laugh.
“You know I’m right.”
“Joe. Stop.”
“Remington Gerard takes down Rocko the mini pin … ”
Kylie leaned against him, giving in to her laughter. “That name does not fit that dog.”
“You are so right.” His chuckle was low in her ear. “But it can’t be helped. You going to be okay?”
“I can manage lunch with Mom and Peter just fine. Thanks for sticking around.”
“Hey, I’m not passing up taco salad. I just hope I don’t have to fight Peter for seconds.”
“You’re a good sport.”
“The fireworks start at dark. Do you want to just follow me back to my house after lunch—”
“Joe, it’s okay. I’m sorry I said that.”
“You’re standing me up?”
She offered him a smile. “You even invited Mom.”
“Well, I understand why they’re not coming. Rocko might get scared because of all the fireworks tonight. But you have no excuse not to come.”
“I should stay home and write … ”
“Bring your laptop. We can both get a few hours of writing in before the fireworks. I’ll text Abbie and Mallory and tell them you’re coming. They’ll be thrilled too.”
“It does sound like fun. I haven’t been to fireworks in years.”
“Okay then. I’m texting them.” When he was finished messaging his friends, Joe put his phone into the back pocket of his shorts. Tucked a Pepsi and a ginger ale in the crook of his arm. “I’ve got the salad dressing and the sour cream and salsa. Anything else?”
“Mom’s supplying the silverware and plates. We’re all good.”
She could get through lunch with Mom and Peter because she had tonight to look forward to. She’d concentrate on the good things today—and Joe Edwards was most definitely one of them.
…
Kylie had never seen Joe Edwards like this before.
Relaxed. Talkative. Laughing. The Joe she’d gotten to know, in a sense, through their emails. The Joe she’d wanted to meet face-to-face at the Memorial Day cookout weeks ago. But back then, he’d retreated behind the grill, paying more attention to the brats than to her.
Today? He’d stayed by her side—well, except when they’d had a few hours to write. He’d hunkered down in a well-worn leather chair in his living room, and she’d chosen one corner of his couch to focus on the story of Remington and Evangeline.
Earlier, he’d sat beside her during lunch in Mom and Peter’s RV, talking sports with Peter, all the while tolerating Rocko, who’d decided Joe was his new favorite person, and had climbed into his lap and fallen asleep. Kylie had steered the conversation to all the different states and towns Mom and Peter had visited. Away from anything personal.
“Having a nice birthday?” Joe bumped her shoulder, pulling her attention back to the present as they walked the edges of the crowd in Infinity Stadium. He’d changed into a short-sleeve Henley and jeans and had added a Broncos ball cap and tinted sunglasses.
“The best in years.” Kylie tugged the brim of her white bucket hat lower. It was an easy complement to her red, white, and blue striped tank top and lightweight cotton pants. “Thank you for this.”
“This? Just a few thousand of my closest friends gathered to celebrate you.”
His words brought a smile to her face. “How did you pull it off on such short notice?”
“Wait until you see what we have planned for later.”
She motioned to the lineup of various food trucks. “The food options are great.”
“None of them have topped your salad.”
“Flatterer.”
“I’m just sorry there weren’t any leftovers.”
“I promise to make another batch soon to make good on my promise to you.”
Joe maneuvered around a family with a toddler dressed in red, white, and blue in a wagon. “I’m happy to let you do that.”
“I bet you are.”
“So, you mentioned earlier that your birthdays weren’t a big deal growing up. Was it hard for your mom because she was single?”
“Yeah. I think being a single mom is one of the hardest challenges in the world.”
“But you and your mom don’t seem close.”
“Close? No, we’re not close. She was busy surviving. Looking for the next man who might be Mr. Right. And I figured out at a pretty young age that the best thing I could do was grow up and be as independent as possible.”
“You’re not in touch with your dad at all?”
Kylie stopped walking. “No. I-I don’t know who my dad is.”
“What?” Joe turned to face her as people moved around them.
“I asked my mom once … well, more than once. On my eleventh birthday, I asked her again. She said, ‘It doesn’t matter, Kylie. Stop asking me, okay? It doesn’t matter.’” Kylie ran her hand across her face. “Happy Birthday to me.”
“I’m so sorry—”
“Mom was right. I didn’t … it didn’t matter.”
Enough of that.
Kylie turned and scanned the crowd. “Do you see our group?”
Joe stood behind her, his hands on her bare shoulders. “Right … there.” He pivoted her a bit to the left until she spotted Abbie and Hudson and Mallory and Tucker gathered by the blankets, chairs, and coolers they’d set up earlier to mark their spot in the stadium.
For a moment, all she noticed was the warmth of Joe’s touch on her skin.
Stop.
It was one thing to write an awareness like this into one of her novels, but she did not need to wish Joe’s hands still rested on her shoulders. Or wish his blue eyes weren’t hidden by his sunglasses.
Or wish he could somehow hug away the ache that came whenever she allowed herself to think about her unknown father.
“Hey!” Abbie stood and waved. “Find anything good to eat?”
“Lots of good things to eat, but we just browsed the different options. I may go back for a shaved ice before the fireworks.”
“Looking for something sweet? I may have just the thing.” Abbie pulled one of the smaller coolers close. Produced a circular Tupperware container. Lifted the lid and grinned as she revealed a dozen floral cupcakes and then began to sing, “Happy Birthday to you … ”
“Stop!” Kylie waved her hands to shush her friend.
Joe, Hudson, Mallory, and Tucker joined in, singing louder and louder. Joe held her still, preventing her from covering her face with her hands. By the time the song ended, people all around them had joined the birthday serenade that ended with cheers and applause.
Kylie knelt on the blanket. “Thank you, but no encores, please.”
Abbie handed her the tray of cupcakes. “Birthday girl gets first choice.”
“Did you make these?”
“I would love to say yes. Joe texted me it was your birthday and asked if I could figure out how to celebrate you tonight. I know a great little cupcake bakery. Voila!”
Kylie selected a cupcake decorated like a daisy and settled on the blanket as Joe chose to sit in one of the portable camping chairs.
“The friendliest flower, right?” Joe tossed her a wink.
Mallory did an exaggerated double take. “Did you just quote You’ve Got Mail?”
“Why yes, I did.” Joe’s reply was casual. “I think it’s your turn to choose a cupcake. Toss me a Pepsi, Tucker?”
“Only if you promise not to quote a chick flick again for the rest of the night.”
“Hand me a Pepsi and we can discuss Independence Day all you want.”
This birthday was well on the way to making up for all her forgettable, ignored birthdays of years past—and that was even considering Mom’s surprise appearance earlier. She bit into the thick layer of buttercream icing and discovered the hidden lemon curd nestled inside the vanilla bean cupcake. Such a surprising day. And the fireworks hadn’t even started.
The sun had eased its way down the sky, offering its own brilliant display of color. Bright yellow. Vivid orange. Navy blue. All faded into a charcoal sketch of the Denver skyline. As the air cooled around them, the crowd quieted, readying for the fireworks display. Kylie rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms.
“You okay?” Joe, who sat in the chair behind her, leaned over her shoulder, his voice low in her ear.
“Yes.” She’d take his question at face value. “I can’t believe I left my hoodie in the car. I’m a native Coloradan. I know better.”
“I can run back to the car—”
“Don’t do that.” Abbie, who was sitting beside her. “I’ve got an extra blanket. Use this, Kylie.”
“Thanks so much.” Joe helped her arrange the light white-and-red-striped blanket around her shoulders.
“All good?” His hands rested on her shoulders again, providing another layer of warmth.
“Much better.”
“Anybody need anything before the fireworks start?” Abbie was the acting hostess for the day. “Soda? Water? Cupcake?”
“We can get what we need, Abbie. We’re all good.” Joe patted his sister’s leg. “Thanks for picking up the cupcakes.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll pay you—”
“I know you’re good for it, big brother.”
Kylie exhaled and relaxed—right into Joe’s legs. She looked over her shoulder. “Sorry about that.”
“Not a problem, birthday girl. Get comfortable. Use me as a cushion.” He grinned and then motioned to her hat. “And go ahead and take that off if you want. We don’t have to be incognito anymore.”
“You figured me out, huh?”
“I knew your agreeing to come today didn’t mean we’d be setting up a book signing booth.”
“Never even crossed my mind.”
“You remember we’ll be doing that once Lethal Strike releases, right?”
“Hadn’t thought about it until you mentioned it.”
“Will we fight over who signs first and signs where on page? Do you insist on a particular kind of pen?”
“I bring my own pens, but I’m willing to share. What’s your favorite color?”
“My favorite … ”
Kylie burst out laughing as a low whistle filled the air and the first firework lit the sky.
It was as if the light burst inside her, all the incandescent bits tumbling inside her body, warming her through and through. Joe’s jean-covered legs pressed into her back. For the first time in years, she made a birthday wish.
Please let Joe and me write a good book.
And let us stay friends, God.
Of course, by mentioning it to God, it was more of a prayer than a wish, but who better to trust with a wish?
Within forty minutes, the display was over. Kylie had almost forgotten anyone else was around as she’d marveled at the beauty of different fireworks. The bursts of colors. The booms and flares.
They exchanged hugs and “see you soons” and gathered up all the blankets and chairs and coolers, with Abbie insisting Kylie take the one remaining cupcake home. Then she and Joe walked to their cars and waited while the parking lot emptied.
Joe leaned against the side of her car. “Who else gets fireworks on their birthday?”
“Everybody with a Fourth of July birthday.” Kylie set the pansy cupcake on top of the car and then stood beside Joe, close enough that their shoulders touched.
“Well played.” Joe turned his head. “Do you know that 150 million hot dogs are eaten by Americans on the Fourth of July?”
“Trivia! My birthday is complete!”
“I’ve got more. People plan to spend 7.7 billion dollars on food—”
“Please tell me that you looked this up.”
Joe chuckled. “I’ll admit it. But we both know there were fifty-six original signers to the Declaration of Independence.”
“And with that, I’m going to head home.”
Joe stepped back and scanned the lot. “The crowd has disappeared.”
“It has. And Remington is probably worried about me.”
“Cats do not worry about their owners.”
“Rem and I are very close. He wakes me up in the morning.”
“So you can feed him, right?” He handed her the cupcake. “Don’t forget this.”
“Thank you, sir.” Kylie touched his arm. “Thanks for such a wonderful birthday, Joe.”
“I had a great time too.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Do me a favor?”
“You want half my cupcake?”
“No. Just text me when you get home, please.”
His kindness was an endearing end to the day.
“Sure.” She went up on her tiptoes and pressed a brief kiss to his cheek.
Joe’s arms slipped around her and pulled her close. Kylie allowed herself to remain in his embrace. To rest, just for a moment, in the comfort of his nearness.
When Joe brushed her hair from her face, Kylie tilted her head back. The air between them stilled as his fingertips grazed her jaw, his thumb caressing her lower lip. The intimate touch caused her breath to catch in her throat. His gaze never broke from hers as he leaned down to kiss her.
It was a tentative kiss. One filled with questions more than passion. Kylie rested both her hands against the fabric covering Joe’s broad chest as his mouth melded to hers. The gentleness of his lips against hers caused warmth to course through her body.
Joe is kissing me.
Kylie pushed away from him, stumbling back into the solid reality of her car. “Stop.”
Joe stared at her. “Kylie … ”
