Just Kiss Me. Kathleen O'Reilly
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turned to Amanda and waited. She just sat quietly, holding her tongue. Smart girl. This was her doing. Well, okay, he shouldn’t have told Monique he was sick, but how do you call a girl two hours before a date and say, “Um, I’ve met the woman of my dreams and I won’t be seeing you for one hundred and ten days, and about eight hours.” Illness seemed so much easier to explain. Of course, he could have told Monique the truth, but what female in their right mind would buy that? Hell, he was a guy, and he wouldn’t have believed it.
Joe looked at Monique with a fond sadness. She was nice. He had had high hopes for her, and damn it all, the soup smelled really good. But there was Amanda looking sexy as hell, and a little bit miffed, and he really didn’t have a choice. “I’m sorry about this. I should have told you the truth.” Joe glared at Amanda at this point. Understanding his message, she slunk a little lower. “To be honest, I just started going out with Amanda and well, it’s been something of a shocker.” Especially that kiss.
Monique sniffed.
Avery was not so shy. “Joe, how could you do such a thing?” He pointed at Amanda. “Are you sure you want to remain in such a shallow relationship? One day, and already he’s unfaithful. How could you tolerate such a philanderer?”
Amanda sat up straight, her blouse becoming somewhat less revealing. About time. “Technically, he’s not a philanderer.”
Monique flipped back a long, brown curl. “Maybe not to you, honey, but you just wait. The girls in Terminal C warned me about this one. Said he was as bad as a pilot working international. And you know how they are. He don’t have no money, neither. Mechanics never do.” She pointed a scarlet-tipped finger at Amanda. “You’ll be next, honey. Guys like this—” she clucked her tongue “—worse than rabbits.”
Avery patted Monique’s hand. “You poor girl. Amanda, if you’re ready to leave this little love nest, I’d be more than happy to escort you home.” His cool blue gaze cut back to Amanda’s cleavage.
Joe allowed himself one proprietary smirk. Not in your dreams, buddy.
“I’m not leaving,” Amanda stated, in a dreamy voice that reminded Joe that they still needed to lay out a few ground rules before she did really leave. That one kiss might cause him to lose a few nights sleep, but there were some lines he wasn’t about to cross. He thought of the kiss again and corrected himself. Okay, he wouldn’t cross them more than once.
“Joseph, have you got any brewskis here?” Monique stood up, and pulled at her skirt.
“Amanda, you really should…” Avery began, but then pulled his pager from his pocket. “Blast. I have an emergency at the hospital.”
“An emergency?” Amanda asked. “I thought you did mainly cosmetic work?”
Avery puffed up a bit. “Mrs. Corrigan. Dear old lady, but likes to invent a crisis so I can come and chat.”
Monique laid a hand on Avery’s sleeve. “You’re a doctor? So, do you think you could drop me in Astoria on your way? The midnight train is so unpredictable, and those little punkers with the nose rings…” She shuddered.
Joe watched his brother. Avery in Astoria? Yeah, that’d be the day.
“Why certainly. You’re in such a fragile emotional condition and you don’t need to be subjecting yourself to the rigors of public transport.”
Well, well. He glanced over at Amanda. Tonight everybody was somebody new.
Monique fluttered a hand over her heart. “It shows? You know, you are such a perceptive man. Most of the guys I’ve dated just miss a woman’s little signals. Have you read that Mars Venus book? I just dragged myself out of my well just yesterday.” She glanced over at Joe and sighed. “Now, I think me and my well are going to be reacquainted.”
Avery took her arm and glared at Joe. “Now look what you’ve done.”
Monique fluttered her lashes at Avery. “Do you drive a Jag?”
“British?” Avery scoffed. “Bavarian Motor Works,” he said, opening the door for Monique.
She followed him out, high heels clicking. “What’s that?”
“BMW.”
Her appreciative “oh” echoed as they walked down the hall. “Like a Bond car.”
“One and the same.”
“Wow. The girls are never going to believe this….”
Joe heard the tap-tap of Monique’s heels as they started down the stairs. One problem solved. Now to tackle the other one. He shut the apartment door and turned to Amanda. “Now, about that kiss…”
AWE-INSPIRING was the first word that came to Amanda’s mind. She already felt like he had ruined her for other men, and she was only thirty. Maybe she’d tire of his kisses in time. She studied his mouth, wondering where he’d learned to kiss like such a professional. “What about it?” she asked, not sure where this conversation was headed.
Joe sat down and rubbed his eyes. For the first time she realized that he looked tired. She resettled herself back on the couch, which was quickly becoming a favorite. Maybe she could give him a massage. Or a hot bath! Amanda loved bubble baths.
“There’ll be no more kissing.”
That probably meant the bubble bath was out as well, but Amanda wasn’t ready to throw in the towel. “You’re going to have to kiss me. Avery will think something is wrong if you don’t even touch me.”
“Avery wasn’t here,” he replied, easily defeating her best argument in defense of kissing.
“Technically, he was here.”
Joe glared. “In visual range, Amanda.”
Amanda adjusted the empty beer bottles on the coffee table. “Semantics, semantics. You will have to kiss me again, or Avery will never be convinced.” She narrowed her eyes as another thought struck. “And why did you tell Monique you were sick? Were you planning on cheating on me?” That thought really hurt. It hurt a lot more than it should. After all, she only wanted an affair.
He leaned forward in the chair. “No, I wasn’t planning on…” Then he caught himself. “Damn it, Amanda. This is only pretend.” His eyes leveled on her chest. “And button your shirt. Avery’s gone. Go home, Amanda. I’ll call you a taxi. I need sleep.”
Slowly, she buttoned up her shirt, tucking in her shirttail and smoothing out all the wrinkles. Nearly midnight and already her ballgown was transforming back to the norm. She sighed. Well, this was only Day One. And what a day it was.
She gathered up her bag and rummaged until she found her keys.
Joe looked in amazement. “You drove?”
Amanda nodded.
“Where’d you park?”
“Down on Riverside.”
“Riverside? That’s four blocks away. You shouldn’t be walking by yourself at night.” He stood and stretched, the muscles in his stomach lengthening and flexing. She watched the movement with fevered eyes, wanting to touch. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Thanks.”
Neither said much on the walk to the car, and Amanda was happy for the silence. Although his street was anything but—kids were playing basketball, somewhere in the distance a TV was blaring, the sidewalk vibrated from the heavy bass of a nearby low-rider. Two old men were sitting on the stoop, sharing complaints about the neighbors and a bottle in a bag.
The older man was wearing a white undershirt, with tufts of gray chest hair poking out from its edges. His shorts were black polyester, with matching black socks. He took a long swig, and then drew his hand across his mouth. “I was telling the super about that Blazejewski boy just the other day. Remember back—always