Page 68 of Second First Kiss

Nolan had meant after they won the navigation portion of the badge ceremony, so he was surprised with Tommy threw himself into Nolan’s arms. He was quick on the uptake, pulling him into his arms and giving him a big hug. His arms were a little longer and he came up higher than he used to, but he still fit perfectly into Nolan’s arms.

“You’ll talk to my mom?” Tommy said into Nolan’s chest.

“We’ll talk to your mom,” he corrected. He pulled back and looked Tommy in the eyes. “Now, does she know you’re here?”

Tommy studied the strings on his sweatshirt.

“Right. I take that as a no.”

“Are you going to tell her I had eggs and painted a bad word on your garage?”

“No, kiddo.” Tommy let out a pent-up breath and his little shoulder sagged with a relief which quickly vanished when Nolan added, “You are.”

18

After a long day at the county clerks’ office, Kat dropped Tessa off at a friend’s to do her homework, then headed to Bigfoot’s for what would be Kat’s next to last night bartending, and she was running on fumes.

At least she had her car back, thanks to a sexy neighbor who now knew what her O face looked like. A sexy neighbor she’d been doing her best to avoid. Like all her past hookups, she was the one-and-done sort. But with Nolan, once wasn’t enough and that was becoming a problem. Hence, the cat-and-mouse game they were playing.

Could it be considered a game if only one side of the party was participating?

She still couldn’t believe she’d slept with him. Had initiated it! Their lifestyles and personalities didn’t mesh. If she were to ask anyone in town about the two of them, the townsfolk wouldn’t even say they were friends. Yet they’d had a sex-a-thon in his hot tub, for the whole world to have seen—including Tessa.

All her sister had to do was look out her window and see something that resembled a Cinemax movie, with her sister cast as the star. It would give Tessa fuel to call Kat a hypocrite and possibly sleep with R. J. in retaliation.

The old Kat never thought through the repercussions, but she’d worked hard to overcome that. One glimpse of Adonis in steam and she’d gone back to being reckless, irresponsible Kat. This was a problem of epic proportions.

But then there was sweet and stable Nolan who had dropped off her car, which had a new gas tank, tires, and the word Bitch buffed out of the door, which also meant Bette Davis had been given a new paint job. Still banana boat yellow, but shiny and sans the scratches and door dings Bette’d racked up over the past fifty-plus years.

Her granddad’s old Ford Fairlane 500 had been given a new life. And that made Kat smile, even letting a snort-giggle escape when she saw it parked in her driveway.

Until she reminded herself how she’d reacted to the kind gesture. Which was to do practically nothing.

The proper etiquette would have been to walk over and thank Nolan in person, but for some reason saying those words to him felt like baring her soul. Plus, he wouldn’t want a big hurrah over something he felt was simply the right thing to do. Would he? So she’d left him the note, which she hoped he found funny, and left it at that.

He hadn’t called, texted, or reached out. His annoying way of letting her know that the ball was in her court. And something about that touched her deep inside, in a place usually reserved for arguing and payback. Most guys would have come with their chest puffed out, looking for an atta boy—not Nolan. He’d left it in her driveway without a word because he knew it wasn’t about him.

Insufferable man.

Now she felt that her response had been juvenile and a call to arms—exactly what he expected. What kind of woman just leaves a sticky note with an inside joke as a thanks? A scared Kat, that’s who.

The kind of woman who was too prideful to give a heartfelt, real thank-you from the soul. And a woman who was afraid of what that kind of raw conversation could turn into. And it could turn quickly when it came to Nolan. She’d seen firsthand how he could get people to open up and spill their deepest darkest secrets. And Kat had a lot of deep secrets, dark enough to chase away a quality guy like Nolan.

The real question was if she wanted to catch him. And for how long?

Hence the avoidance. Until she knew where she stood on both subjects, it was necessary to maintain a healthy distance. But he’d thrown the gauntlet, and what was a girl to do besides come back swinging?

“Have you seen my brothers?” Brynn asked in a whisper-hush while leaning over the bar top. She was dressed in a very uncharacteristic outfit of a short, fitted skirt, a tight, cleavage-showcasing top, and fuck-me pumps. She was also a bit sweaty, and her eyes were round and big with paranoia—like she was being chased by Big Bird.

“I haven’t seen Nolan for days.”

Brynn smiled. “I said brothers, as in plural, but I think it’s interesting that you singled out a specific brother by name. Any reason?”

Kat felt her face go flush and turned around to stick her head in the fridge, pretending to grab a beer. “He’s just usually sticking his nose in everyone’s business is all.”

“Funny, he’s the least of the busybodies in the family. Yet he’s always up in your business. What do you think that means?”

“That he likes to torment me.”

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