Kiss Me Not (Kiss Me 1)

I took a deep breath and headed outside. It was overcast today, and I glanced up at the sky with a silent prayer that it wouldn’t rain. The talent show stage wasn’t covered, and I knew one of the acts played with fire.

Literal fire.

It was a bit extra for a small-town fair, but whatever tickled people’s pickles.

I made it to the kissing booth with only a few minutes to spare. I was hot and sticky when I slipped through into the tent, and the first thing that hit me was the overwhelming scent of a meatball sub.

“Nice of you to join me.” Preston grinned at me from the edge of the stage where he was sitting. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”

“Ugh, don’t. Abigail called me, and I had to run to my dad’s because my grandma is having some kind of late in life crisis.” I swung my purse off my shoulder and pulled off my glasses since they were all misted up. “She’s wearing clothing entirely inappropriate for her age. Anyone’s age, really.”

“Aunt Bethel tried to leave the house in a crop top according to my mom,” Preston replied. “So it’s either a coincidence or they’re cooking something up together.”

“Nothing with them is ever a coincidence. Don’t you remember two years ago when they sent half the town on a scavenger hunt, but the only thing we found was Bethel’s teeth?”

He shuddered. “That’s because that’s what she wanted. I still don’t know how they ended up in the men’s bathroom in Lucky’s, though.”

“I think she went into the wrong bathroom and took them out, then got distracted and left them behind.”

“That’s the most logical explanation. And the likely one.” He stood up and walked over to me, pulling me into his body.

It was a little strange to have his arms so casually around me, but I fit against his body just right. He was just tall enough that he could rest his chin on top of my head. I circled his waist with my arms and savored the feeling for several seconds.

“All right, let’s do this. I only have a few hours to kick your ass.” I pulled away from him, grinning. “And I’m going to.”

He shook his head slowly, backing up. “Never in a million years. You’re going down, and you know it.”

I used two fingers and pointed them at my own eyes, then at him, in the universal sign for ‘I’m watching you.’ Then, I hopped up onto the stage and grabbed my lipstick from my purse.

Less than a minute later, I was ready for the final day.

“Hold on.”

The gaudy curtain between us moved to the side, and Preston stepped through.

“I forgot to tell you something.”

I frowned. “What?”

“This.” He grabbed my face with two hands and smacked a huge kiss against my lips.

It was so unexpected that not only did my heart jolt into a faster beat, but I was knocked off balance when he released me. He had a self-satisfied grin on his face that was so annoyingly sexy, desire fizzled through me for a brief second.

“I’m putting that on my tally!” I shouted through the curtain. “I’m already beating your ass!”

He laughed, the deep sound filling the entire tent, and I marked down the damn kiss on my board.

“Here.”

I turned. His arm was sticking on my side of the booth, and he was holding a one-dollar bill.

“Is that all I’m worth?”

“You never gave my fifty back the other day. I think fifty-one bucks is an adequate price for a kiss.”

Shit. He was right. I didn’t.

“It’s all for a good cause,” I trilled, taking the note from him right as the curtains were opened. “Thank you for your generosity, sir.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Yep!”

***

Bethel Wright’s style was… eclectic.

Take today, for example. Today, her bright blue hair was pulled into two buns on the top of her head—think cat-ear placement, not Princess Leia’s dinner plates over her ears—and she had a vibrant red scarf tied around her head. Her muumuu was a delightful shade of holy-shit-that’s-yellow, and the bright pink hibiscus flowers were borderline offensive.

And that was all before you considered the rainbow-hued marching band on each arm.

Her bangles.

She’d somehow hijacked our girls’ dinner, and so had my grandma. Who, thankfully, was not wearing the glittery number from this morning. Not that the vibrant purple fifties-style dress she was wearing now was much better, but at least I didn’t have to see her nipples every time I looked at her.

I’d take the wins where I could.

“What to eat, hmm?” Bethel scanned the menu.

“The whole damn thing, judging by the weight you’ve put on since last year,” Grandma retorted.

Ava choked on her water. Lauren leaned over and patted her back with a grimace on her face.

“Grandma,” I said sharply.

“Don’t Grandma me like that. Bethel knows she’s chunky now.”

Reagan looked around in horror before pinching the bridge of her nose.