Just One Kiss: A Black Alcove Novel, Page 2

  Chapter Two

  Kelsey

  For the next five months, my parents will be touring France, Italy, and Germany. They’ve left me in charge of everything they own, and this is night one. I’ve already managed to lock myself out. Go me.

  “You’re not seriously going to break in, are you?” Sara asks through the phone.

  “What choice do I have, Sara? All my stuff is in their house, and my dad was very clear on his rules. Make sure the sprinkler system comes on each morning till the end of August, dust everything, cleaning includes bathrooms, and don’t drive the cars. That’s just the small list. For all I know, he could have a camera set up to make sure I do as he instructed.”

  Without a key, breaking in is the only way to go. He didn’t say don’t break anything or break into anything, but those are probably basic rules. Still, he never actually said it.

  “This sucks. I’m gone in less than four weeks, and you’re not even going to be staying in our apartment until I leave. You could come home and crash here for just one more night. Then we can call the locksmith in the morning.”

  I shake my head, refusing her offer even though she can’t see me. Sara’s suggestion is good, but it’s not going to work. Not right now. Not when my computer is inside this house and my fingers are itching to get some writing in before I go to bed.

  I’m sitting alone in my car in my parents’ driveway. It’s in a new neighborhood just east of town, and they picked a fully beige house. I call it “The Palace of Beige.” Everything is that boring ass color—the house, the trim, the doors. Everything. It has a three-floor layout with five bedrooms, each with their own bath; a movie room; and a four-car garage. They have two kids who no longer live at home and four cars. What a waste of money.

  “That defeats the whole purpose of housesitting, Sara.” I move my cellphone to my left ear and hold it in place with my shoulder as I turn off my car. The wind is intense tonight, and my car moves in a wave like motion with each gust. Thankfully, it stopped raining so I can see a little better, but it’s almost midnight and everything is pitch black. Add the fact I forgot to leave the front porch light on and the fact the subdivision has a lot of houses still in the building phase and it makes this whole situation creepy. I’ve watched too many movies of what can go wrong in a construction zone.

  “Okay, so what are you going to do? Throw a rock through the window, crawl inside, and then claim someone broke in while you were watching their house? I guarantee they won’t give you the money they offered. In fact, I bet they would make you replace it with your own cash. You should totally rethink whatever plan you have devised in your head.”

  Lose out on five grand for five months of housesitting? Easiest money ever. I need it so I can start a career in self-publishing. I could buy a new window and still come out ahead.

  “It’s my only option. I’ll call you when I’m inside.”

  Sara’s voice raises a few pitches, but I end the call before I can hear what she says. I know she’s right that I should just wait till tomorrow, but writing is way more important than whatever window I’m about to bust.

  I open my car door only to have it blown shut by the strong August wind the moment my left leg is out. Ouch! Only this stupid Wyoming wind would stick around for every day of the year. I push the door off my leg and jump out of the car in a hurry to avoid the same mistake. The wind again slams the door shut at the same time I firmly plant my feet into the ground to keep from blowing away. My long, brown hair is blowing in all directions and it’s a battle between Mother Nature and my hand to keep it away from my eyes long enough to walk to the house.

  Each step is like pulling a semi-truck behind me as I walk against the wind. I swear it feels like I’m not even moving. Thank goodness I went with blue jeans and a black hoodie tonight. Trying to keep a dress or skirt down in this mess would be pointless.

  I finally make it to the front porch, pulling my smartphone from my back pocket to turn on the flashlight. I shine the light around the windows and over the deck in search of a hide-a-key. When I come up short, I catch sight of a curtain blowing freely inside the house. Yes! There must be a window open. I hold the flashlight against the window to pinpoint my next destination. Perfect, I should be able to climb through from the back porch.

  I leap off the front steps, not making much distance when the wind pushes me backward. The ball of my foot catches the last step and I fall. I hit the steps just perfectly to pinch the skin on the back of my thigh, and a small scream passes my lips as I roll on the ground, grabbing the tender area and trying not to cry.

  You had to remember one thing, Kelsey. The key. This whole mess could have been avoided had you remembered the key.

  After allowing myself a minute to scold myself, I push off the ground and head for the back porch. I walk around to the left side of the house and come to a complete, firm stop, not giving the wind a chance to blow me down. What the — when did they do this? A fence. A stupid tall, white, keep-the-burglar-out-of-my-yard wooden fence. Right where I need to be. Okay. I get it. Lesson learned. I will never forget the key, or any key for that matter, ever again.

  I force my way to the fence and sigh with relief when my fingers can reach the top. If I jump just a little, I should be able to pull myself over. Finally, someone is on my side.

  I extend my arms as straight as I can get them, but they don’t get a good enough grip on the top of the fence when I jump. A few more tries later, it’s still not enough. I bend at the knee and swing my arms behind to give myself the extra oomph I need. The sound of an empty dumpster hitting the pavement startles me, and I quickly turn around.

  “Who’s there?” I call out. I can’t see anything; it’s too dark. It was probably just a cat or the wind. Either way, that’s all the motivation I need to get over this fence. This time my effort is just good enough to haul myself over. Or — maybe not. My arms are stuck mid-pull, ready to give out. I should really start working out. This is just stupid. As I hang on the fence, I hear the sound of footsteps on the grass behind me. Instantly I have the strength I need and I pull myself halfway up. All I need to do it swing my legs over and it’s done.

  Suddenly, my body goes stiff and I’m pretty sure I’ve stopped breathing.

  Someone is touching me.

  Ethan

  After finding every excuse I could to get out of dinner with my cousin – the less time with Kelsey around me, the better – all I wanted to do was get some sleep. Instead, I’m wide awake and irritated with my new neighbors.

  I woke up when I heard a car door slamming and a light scream minutes after. This is not the way my first night in my first home should go. I’m no pansy, but it’s a good thing I own guns because if this shit goes down every night, then I damn sure better stay alert. I’ll be ready for whoever wants to break into my house.

  I drag myself out of bed and down the stairs to look out the front window. There’s some chick across the street rolling around on the ground in front of my neighbor’s house. When she shifts, I can see that she has a flashlight in her hand. This is not normal behavior for most people.

  I watch as she pushes herself up and rounds the house, coming to a stop. I can’t see her face because the wind is out of control, blowing her hair in all directions, and right before she turns toward my house, she pulls the hood of her sweatshirt over her head. She stands there for a minute, looking defeated.

  Just when I think this bizarre mini-event is over the girl marches up to the fence, reaches her hand high, and then starts jumping. I don’t know the people in my neighborhood yet, but this isn’t a good sign.

  I don’t waste any time as I slip my shoes on and run out the door. I’m wearing only a pair of black gym shorts, and this wind feels like ice against my skin. My goal is to sneak up on her, but after a huge gust of wind comes out of nowhere, I lose balance and bump into the dumpster. Sneaking is no longer an option. I run straight for the intruder and get there just in time.

  She is half ov
er the fence, dangling her upper body on one side and her legs on the other. My side. The legs also come with a very nice ass that’s hard to miss.

  I wrap my hands around her ankle and pull her toward me. There’s no way I am letting her over this fence. Nice ass or not.

  The eardrum-busting scream that comes out of her mouth is not what I’m expecting. I start to shake my head to get the ringing to stop at the same time she starts yelling. I can’t hear her very well because my ears are still recovering.

  “Let me go!” she demands.

  “No way! I’m not letting you over this fence,” I shout back.

  Her body goes stiff and the screaming stops. I think I hear her whisper the word “no,” but I’m not sure. If she’s trying to talk me into letting her go, it’s not working. I use this moment to tug on her legs, attempting to pull her back over. Instantly she starts resisting, giving it her all as she tries to wiggle her way out of my grip.

  “Just jump back down and we…”

  Fuck!

  The stinging pain of her foot making solid contact with my face distracts me and I lose my balance, again. My hand loosens its grip, and as I stumble backward, I grab her ankle to keep myself from falling. It doesn’t work and we both fall to the ground.

  I grunt when she lands on top of my stomach, making it hard to breathe. She pulls herself together, quickly rolling off me and scrambling to her feet, but I’m faster. I grab her foot and yank her back until she is under me. With my legs on either side of her, my arms are straight as I hold her arms tightly against her sides to keep her pinned to the ground. She wiggles hard trying to escape.

  “Don’t touch me!” she hollers and continues to attempt yanking her arms out of my grip while trying to sit up.

  “Yeah, no, that’s not going to happen. You can’t just go breaking into someone’s house and get away with it.”

  Her body goes lifeless under my hands and she takes a sharp breath. When she opens her eyes to face me, I almost let go. The wind has blown her hair out of her face, giving me a perfect view of bright, gold eyes piercing me with a heated glare. Her creamy white skin glows in the darkness, rendering me speechless.

  Kelsey.

  For a moment neither of us says anything. Maybe she wasn’t breaking in after all. Someone this beautiful can’t be that crazy. Can she? Sara definitely would have told me if her best friend has a few screws loose.

  The stunned moment is interrupted when I hear the sound of sirens approaching. Just awesome. Someone called the cops. Kelsey uses the distraction and shoves me off of her, quickly rising to her feet.

  “You called the police on me? Seriously? This night just keeps getting better,” she snaps.

  “I didn’t call the cops. I had it handled,” I spit back at her.

  She takes a step toward me, dramatically placing her hands on her hips.

  “Oh you had IT handled, huh?” Her eyes roam over my face. Where is the quiet, innocent girl I saw earlier today? I guess the silent streak is over. As her eyes meet mine, they look so cold I can’t help but take a step back. “Yeah,” she says with a laugh, “your face is covered in blood. You had IT handled real well.”

  Blood. Really?

  I reach up to my face and sure enough, when I touch my nose, there’s blood everywhere.

  “You kicked me in the face,” I growl, defending myself.

  “You deserved it,” she says, jabbing her finger into my chest.

  As the sirens are getting louder, she begins to look around frantically, turning to sprint away only to be cut off when a police car pulls up in front of the house.

  The cop gets out of the car, walks to the front of his vehicle, and stops. He’s tall and in better shape than I would think a cop his age should be. Definitely not someone I want to mess with, and that says something since I work out every day.

  The cop stands with his hands on his hips and begins to shake his head.

  “Kelsey Brian,” he says, and a smile appears on his face. “It’s been too long since I last saw you.”

  As if the night weren’t weird already, the fact Kelsey is on a first-name basis with a cop just made everything about her more interesting.

  Kelsey

  Never say things could be worse. The moment you think it, it happens.

  Like right now, my cheating ex-boyfriend’s father, who also happens to be a cop, is standing in front of me, waiting to arrest me no doubt.

  “Mr. Maron.” I roll my eyes and cross my arms. I shouldn’t be rude, but this cannot be happening right now. I want to get inside my car and leave this awful situation. It’s cold out, and now I’m going to have to suffer this stupid wind even longer. My urge to write is officially gone.

  He nails me with his judgmental glare, and I look everywhere but directly at him. His presence is pushing all the wrong buttons as he stands there looking well groomed with his ocean-clear blue eyes, blonde hair, and sharp facial features that are an exact match to his son’s. Makes me sick.

  The story of Tyler and me went way beyond any clichéd story of walking in on your boyfriend and catching him cheating red-handed. He was on the couch, lying naked on top of someone. I heard a moan, and my gasping caught their attention. That’s when another chick – also naked – came walking out of our bathroom, asking Tyler where his other box of condoms was because they were all out.

  “Um, sir?” Ethan speaks up somewhere behind me. I don’t move as my eyes narrow and peek sideways until I can see him. He’s still here. I can’t tell if I’m excited or mad that the dark- haired god who arrived earlier today is back in the middle of the night. Attacking me like some crazed lunatic.

  I watch as Ethan runs a hand through his hair and lets out a breath. What’s he doing here anyway? And where is his shirt? I take a quick glance and swallow hard. Never mind. The shirt can stay gone.

  His eyes don’t look cold anymore—just the opposite, almost as if he feels sorry for me. How can someone show so many emotions with just their eyes? They have that added extra sparkle to them that you only read about in books. I smile at him and his face quickly falls to confusion.

  Wait.

  I’m pissed at this guy. I’m still standing here only because of him. I give Ethan another dirty look that quickly fades when he starts to laugh. Damn it. If I don’t get my thoughts in check, he will never take me seriously at work.

  “Young man, it’s probably best you head home. This doesn’t concern you.”

  He can’t be serious.

  “It sure as hell concerns him.” I shift my body and point at the culprit. “He attacked me while I was trying to get inside. You should be arresting him, not sending him home.”

  “Attack you? I was saving these people,” – he points to The Palace of Beige – “the hassle of dealing with a robbery when they get home,” Ethan says.

  Mr. Maron steps off the road and into the grass to approach us. He releases a small laugh.

  “What happened here? Who robbed who?” he asks, confused.

  “He attack—”

  “She was break—”

  Oh, Ethan did not just cut me off. I glare at him and practically growl when Mr. Maron cuts us both off.

  “Whoa now,” he says and holds his arms out at his sides, warning us to keep our distance. Probably a good idea at this point, since I’m so angry I’m sure they can see the flames shooting from my eyes. Mr. Maron looks at me. “Kelsey, why are you here?”

  Dang right, he should ask me first.

  “I’m housesitting and forgot my key. I left the back window open and was making my way to it when this guy attacked me.” I cross my arms again and with a smirk I give Ethan a look that tells him this is over. He shouldn’t even try to argue his way out of it. Ethan raises an eyebrow that clearly accepts the challenge. My smirk vanishes and my breathing picks up.

  Mr. Maron nods his head, pulling a small notebook from his back pocket and removing the pen from the collar of his shirt.

  “Alright, what’s your name, son, a
nd why are you here?” His voice sounds sterner this time.

  “Ethan Connelly, and I live in that house.” He sounds annoyed as he points to the dark green, not beige, house directly across the street. He lives there? “Some weird noises woke me up, and when I looked out the window, I saw this chick trying to climb this fence. I assumed she was breaking in.”

  First I’m an it and now I’m some chick?

  I give a sarcastic laugh and roll my eyes. My name must have just slipped his mind.

  Mr. Maron shakes his head, releasing an aggravated breath.

  “Next time, call the police. You can go home now. I can handle things from here.”

  The thought of being left alone with my ex’s father worries me. He will ask questions and I’ll stay quiet, just like I always do. We were practically family, and now it hurts too much to talk to him. For a brief moment I consider asking Ethan to stay. I open my mouth but he takes a step toward his house, giving me a winning grin. My body shudders. Cocky guys are so unattractive. Never mind that idea; I don’t need him. At the same time Ethan steps off the sidewalk, I turn for my car.

  “Wait a minute, Kelsey. We still need to talk.”

  Of course we do. Things can never be easy. My shoulders slump forward as I impatiently wait for a man who was practically my father-in-law to continue.

  “It’s been awhile since I saw you last.” He pauses. “You know you’re always welcome in our home, Kelsey. If you ever want or need to talk…Emily and I are always here.” His voice is so gentle, and I know he means every word.

  I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself before the waterworks start. For three years this man was more of a father to me than my own. Yes, it’s wrong of me to shut them out, but things are different now and I don’t want to be the crazy ex-girlfriend who still hangs out with her ex-boyfriend’s family. It doesn’t matter that Tyler is the one who invites me over half the time. Says he still wants to be friends because I am and will always be his best friend, but I don’t think I’m strong enough for that. I can’t trust myself to look at him and not miss what we had. What I had. A best friend I could tell anything to, who I thought I could trust to always be honest.

  “I’m fine,” I say, forcing the words out of my mouth. It’s been long enough I shouldn’t let it affect me anymore.

  He doesn’t say anything as he comes up behind me. He gives me a quick shoulder hug and then continues to the porch. He stops at the top of the steps, looking around. If he can find the hide-a-key for me, maybe I’ll talk.

  I watch as he shines his flashlight around – a real one, searching every crack, corner, and flowerpot. At the door, he reaches for the knob, turns it slowly, and the door opens. My mouth drops open when he looks back at me with an “are you kidding me?” look that I choose not to respond to. I march right past him and shut the door once I’m inside. Thank goodness he didn’t find the hide-a-key.