Page 38 of The Valentine Inn

“Perhaps if I’d known,” he said, with enough bite to tear a chunk out of my soul.

I knew he was talking about more than the ball. I knew he was still angry with me. I knew a lot of things I wish I didn’t know.

Chapter Twelve

Izzy floated into our bedroom as if she’d just danced with a prince at the ball. She even twirled and sighed a happy sigh.

I smiled from my bed, already snuggled in underneath the covers. Izzy and I had what we called the Lucy and Desi beds. Two twins separated by only a nightstand. We were totally on our way to spinsterhood and some fun rumors. Well, maybe . . .

I sat up and propped myself on my fluffy pillows, the fluffier the better. “You either just stabbed Drake or made out with Martez,” I said jokingly.

She draped herself dramatically on her bed. “Oh, I would love to maim Drake, but kissing Martez wasn’t too bad,” she sang.

I popped up. “You really did kiss Martez? You barely know him.”

“Well, I know him better now.” She wagged her brows.

“Spill your guts,” I demanded.

She sat up and tossed her beautiful tresses. “It’s no big deal.”

“Uh, you haven’t kissed anyone since Jared, and Martez is a lot younger than you. This qualifies as a big deal.”

She bit her lip, acting all shy, which she totally wasn’t. “Soooo . . . ,” she elongated. “We were just talking as I put the final coat of stain on the check-in counter, and he made a flirty comment.” She blushed.

“By how red your cheeks are, I need to hear this comment.”

She closed her eyes like she was embarrassed. “I’m not sure exactly, because he said it in French, but it was something along the lines of me being sexy and my lips looking lonely.” Her eyes peeked open. “Uh,” she stammered. “I told him they wouldn’t mind some company.”

I smiled and giggled. “That’s so cheesy, but cute. So, did he just go for it?”

“He slinked across the floor like a prowling lion, hungry for me,” she said breathlessly. “It was straight out of Dirty Dancing, I swear.” She fanned herself.

I pictured Patrick Swayze crawling across the floor toward Jennifer Grey. It made me a little heated. Man, did I miss male affection. “So then what?” I waited with bated breath for her to give me more details.

“Then he hovered above me and brushed back my hair while teasing my lips with his own. And then it happened.”

“And?”

“And it was good. Really good, even.”

“But not life changing?”

“No,” she sighed.

I flung my legs off the bed and reached for her hands. “Are you okay?”

She squeezed mine back. “Of course. It was so nice to feel wanted again, but it wasn’t the same,” her voice cracked. “I hate Jared right now.”

I hated the man too. I hopped over to Izzy’s bed and put an arm around her. Her head landed on my shoulder. I rubbed her arm. “This was a good first step for you. And not a lot of women can say they made out with a Latin god.” I tried to interject some humor. Jared had done a number on Izzy. On all of us, really. My parents and I had loved Jared like a son and brother. I used to think Izzy and Jared were couple goals—madly in love with each other and running a successful business together.

“That’s true,” she giggled. “He is incredibly good looking. But something was missing.” She sounded depressed.

“I still think this calls for ice cream. It’s a first kiss of sorts.” When I was fifteen and Izzy was twenty and already at college, she drove all the way from Virginia to Florida to bring me ice cream after my first kiss with Scott Carson. She’d said every first kiss deserves ice cream. We’d stayed up the rest of the night talking about that magical moment in my life. That’s just the kind of sister she was. I loved her more than life, and I wished I could take away her pain.

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Izzy, not every kiss is going to be soul-stirring. It’s not meant to be that way. I think a kiss is nature’s way of telling us things that sometimes we can’t see right away, or might be afraid to admit. Those men who can stir our souls are a rare breed and worth the wait.” Well, at least some of them. Only one man had ever stirred my soul. I had a feeling I may have to wait forever for him to figure out we were meant to be together.

“Were you reading Grandma’s Reader’s Digests too?” She laughed.

“No, but I know the kind of kiss you’re missing.”

“Drake may stir your soul,” she growled, “but that doesn’t mean he’s the one for you.”

I let go of her and let out a heavy breath. “Let’s not talk about him tonight. I’m going to get you some ice cream.” I stood.

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