Page 22 of Second First Kiss

She got all the fun benefits without the drama. But lately it hadn’t felt like enough. The encounters felt empty, and she couldn’t figure out why. Hell, she hadn’t even kissed a guy in months.

In fact, the last guy she kissed was— No way. Ranger Tight-ass? How could it be that awkward, awful kiss was her last run-in with a man? It must have been even worse than she remembered.

Or that good, a little whisper said.

Definitely bad, she decided. It was a teeth-clashing, tongue-twisting, real failure-to-launch kind of kiss that rom-coms made fun of.

“You know, if it weren’t for Barney Fife being a rule-abiding tight-ass none of this would be happening.”

“We’re all very grateful for that tight ass,” Gemma said, eyeing Kat over her cocktail glass with a knowing smirk.

“Look who’s talking! The woman who hasn’t so much as swiped right in over two years,” Kat said.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t look.”

“Let’s be real, there are better asses in town,” Kat said.

“Name one,” Gemma said.

Kat opened her mouth and closed it. If there were a contender, his name was failing her at the moment. Not that she’d admit that to anyone.

“I’m standing right here. I’m a ten out of ten on the Brad Pitt scale of butts,” Tim, the bar’s manager, and Kat’s boss, said. “Although mine isn’t quite as butt-tacular as yours, Gem.”

Gemma went stiletto-heel red because, not only had half the bar seen her butt up close and personal, Tim had autographed it with a Sharpie because of a dare. That same night Kat had been issued a dare as well—and won, she might add. She was given thirty seconds to take off the belt of the next guy who walked into the bar—with her teeth. That man just so happened to be Nolan.

And if there was one thing Kat never backed down from, it was a dare. Not only had she gotten his belt off with her hands behind her back, she’d done it in under twenty seconds. Kat had expected that uptight officer to look horrified, but instead he’d just stood there, smug as hell, challenge in his eyes. So she’d planted one on him—and that was how she’d taken part in the worst smooch in the history of the ever-smooching-world.

“I’m going to need another one of these,” Gemma said, downing her martini and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Tim looked at Kat, who didn’t move.

“You’re the bartender on duty,” he pointed out, and Kat shrugged.

“I’m on my break. And how can we be sure you’re a ten out of ten if we can’t see it in action?” she said.

“I’m only doing this to prove my prowess, not to reinforce your bad habits of taking breaks whenever your friends drop by,” Tim said with no heat, because they both knew that she worked her ass off from the time she clocked in until closing. She was his best employee, that was a fact.

Hot-headed at times, stubborn to a fault, but a hard worker. She wasn’t living the dream, but tending bar was a hell of a lot more exciting than her day job troubleshooting IT problems—which ninety-nine percent of the time were user errors.

“Be sure to factor in the swag,” Tim said and turned around, swaying his hips like a Latin ballroom dancer.

Gemma waited until Tim was gone, then asked, “So the home visit? On a scale of one to ten, how bad did it go?”

If Kat were one to drink on the job, she’d pour herself a shot of tequila. “Remember that time Zoe and I got caught hacking into the McDonald’s drive-through and hijacking the speaker system?”

“You told Principal Beekman that she’d get free fries if she showed her titties at the window,” Milly said.

“And the sheriff just happened to pull in behind you and take away your grandpa’s CB license.” Gemma snorted.

“You guys were escorted home in the sheriff’s cruiser,” Milly said. “My parents were so pissed that my dad had The Look plastered on his face for a full week.”

Kat had been on the receiving end of The Look a time or two. Not by her own parents. They didn’t give two shits about what she did, as long as her rebellious nature didn’t spill over onto them. Zoe always complained about how strict her parents were, but Kat would have given anything to have had parents who cared enough to set limits and enforce them.

No matter how much of a ballbuster Kat became, Abe never cared or chimed in. He had parented the way his parents had parented—completely hands off. So hands off that Kat finally pushed so hard that she’d gained a reputation for being a partying troublemaker—when all she really wanted was a sliver of attention. Proof she mattered.

“Howard would have given me The Look for this,” Kat admitted. “I mean, Tessa didn’t get dragged out by the arm and Ms. Woods didn’t say I’d lost the battle, but I’m scared.” Kat’s shoulders sank. “Really scared. Let’s just say I’ll be picking up extra shifts for future bail money for my felon sister.”

“You were the OG Sierra Vista Bad Girl,” Gemma said. “And you turned out just fine.”

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