One Kiss:

He liked the direction this was taking. “They can’t all be evil though. There has to be one ‘good’ character in there; someone to give it balance.”

She touched her tongue to her top teeth. “Like a Ned Flanders type?”

“Yeah, but not a joke or a parody. Someone people can actually root for.” He searched for the right words. “A despicable antihero can only go so far. You need some light in all that darkness.”

She nodded slowly. “A white knight.” Her fingertips grazed the back of his hand, sending warmth all the way up to his elbow. “Like you.”

She was so achingly beautiful sometimes, she just about killed him. He could easily be in love with her. It was better for them both that he was not. “Am I your white knight?”

“Yes,” she said simply, then her smile turned mischievous, her eyes twinkling. “Without you, I’d always wear black.”

He laughed and some of the tension dissipated. Or perhaps it had never there at all. It was possible all that electric energy was completely one-sided. He wouldn’t put it past himself. Whatever it was, he needed to get over it. “You do always wear black.”

“Hmmm, well, maybe you aren’t all that good an influence.” She squeezed his forearm and then looked away, pressing her fingertips to her lips in a gesture she often made when she was unsure or stressed. “We’ll see if I can make it work.”

He took her hand and met her eyes. She was an incredible artist, the best graphic artist he’d ever had the pleasure of teaming up with, and her comics were off the charts. “It’ll work.”

She held his eyes for a long moment and then nodded. “Yeah.” She squeezed his hand and then let go. “How about you? How was home?”

“Fantastic.” And it had been. He loved seeing his family, spending time with his mom, dad, and brother. A trip home always left him happy and recharged, and this one had come at a particularly good time. It was because of his family’s love and support that he was able to be over Mari as quickly as he had and being with them made him realize a lot about his former relationship. Having sex with a model was outrageously good, but hardly the cornerstone of a healthy partnership. There had always been something missing between them, a disconnect of sorts. Seeing his parents together, witnessing how much they loved one another, allowed him to understand that what he’d felt for Marine had been nice, but never truly love. She had come to him for strength and comfort, and he had enjoyed giving it to her. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.

“Hey.” Kat put her hand on his thigh. “She was never worth it, Dean. She never deserved you.”

He gave her a half-smile. Kat disliked Marine from the first day she met her at the photo shoot Ron had commissioned to use for a romance novelist’s website. Mari was the perfect waif heroine, delicate and ethereal. She had an air of vulnerability, an innate fragility. She was a woman who wanted to be held, protected, comforted, and he wanted to be the man that got to do it. He asked her out that very night. Their relationship didn’t last a full year. “We weren’t right for each other, I guess.”

“Whatever,” she said, and he knew from the tone of her voice that she didn’t believe it. “Tell me what you did while you were home.”

“Not a whole lot really. We went skiing like every year, and my brother and I did some more planning for our climb of Holy Cross in May.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Mostly I ate and relaxed and hung out.”

The traffic lurched forward, stopped, lurched again. At this rate, it was going to take forever to get to the West Village. Normally, the delay would drive him nuts, but it had been over a week since he had seen Kat. It was good to catch up with her.

“It sounds great,” she said.

“They asked about you.” He caught a lock of her hair between his thumb and forefinger and gave it a little tug. “My mom says hi.” Ever since his parents visited New York, they asked about Kat. They loved her on sight. “You should come next year.”

She sighed. “I’d love to, I would. Your parents are great, but Christmas is my one obligation. It’s a pain in the ass, but it’s better than dealing with the year-long guilt trip I’d have to endure otherwise, having to hear about how I don’t love her enough to go and see her once a year on the most important of family holidays. I’d rather go and get it done.”

“Okay,” he said, although it wasn’t, not at all. “The invitation is always open.” He hated what her family did to her, hated the defeat and depression she came back home to New York with every year after a week with those people. There had to be a way for him to shield her from that hurt. Maybe next year he could kidnap her, take her off to Colorado whether she liked it or not. Or even better, he could let her do her obligatory Christmas Eve and day with that god-awful woman and then make her come to Colorado, spend the rest of the holiday break with him. He was certain he could convince her to agree—it would just take some finesse. He thought of how stubborn Kat could be and smiled. Maybe if he started now, he could wear her down by then.

The traffic surged forward as whatever was holding things up cleared out, and they were over the bridge in no time. He leaned back into the seat, listening to the sounds of the city as they wove through lower Manhattan, the rev of truck engines, the squeals of brakes, the snatches of music and screaming and laughter.

He glanced over at the woman at his side, subtly studying her profile. Her blind date was a lucky man. He’d better realize it too. He didn’t understand why she agreed to it, but if it was what she wanted to do, he supported her one hundred percent. If the guy turned out to be an asshole, however, well, then, Dean might have to end up having a conversation with him.

He smiled to himself. God, she would hate that. He could imagine the lecture she would give him if he tried to protect her that way. She was going to have to deal with it, though. She knew what she was getting into when she asked him along, it wasn’t like they’d just met yesterday.

The cab turned onto Hudson, and he caught a glimpse of a couple locked in a passionate embrace under a streetlamp. The woman’s sparkly tiara was askew and the man was missing his shirt, but that didn’t seem to deter them one bit. “Why do you think people kiss at midnight?”

She smiled at him. “You get cursed if you don’t. If you can’t find someone to kiss, all you have to look forward to is bad luck, hairy palms, and failed online dating attempts all year long.”

He laughed. “Yeah, everyone knows that, but how do you think it began? I mean, how did it get decided that if you don’t kiss someone at midnight, your year is doomed?”

She ran her index finger over her bottom lip as she thought it over. “Well, that whole make-loud-noises-and-be-obnoxious-at-midnight thing is supposed to keep the demons away, so maybe it has something to do with that. Maybe a kiss is a protection as well, a safeguard of some sort, to keep evil away from you in the New Year.”

“So, celibacy is evil, then?”

“Some people might argue that it is.”

They both laughed. “Maybe demons don’t like kissing? That doesn’t seem right. You’d think demons would be into anything sexual. More ways to sin, you know?”

“It has to be about more than just sex.” She thought for a second and then turned to him, excitement sparkling in her eyes. “Okay, how about this? Kissing is personal. When you kiss, you share another’s breath and breath is life, so maybe kissing is an exchange of sorts, like…” Her fingers danced in the air as the ideas formed in her mind. “Like, sharing your soul. Maybe that’s what it is. You kiss someone and share a piece of your soul with them. That way they keep it safe for you in the New Year. They have a piece of you inside them.” She touched his chest, right over his heart. “Here.” Her eyes met his. “Protected.” A wicked smile blossomed on her lips and then she shrugged. “Otherwise, it’s spinning heads and bad skin for everyone.”

“Wow,” he said as the cab pulled up in front of Ron and Alan’s brownstone. “I’m glad I asked. I would have hated to fuck that up.”

She paused from digging around in her coat pockets to nod at him solemnly. “The consequences could have been dire.”

He used her distraction to pull his wallet out and pay the driver before she could. She scowled at him, but he only smiled sweetly in return. She despised it when he paid or opened doors for her or did anything like that and it was always a triumph when he got to treat her.

He climbed out of the cab and an icy wind whipped down Perry Street. The forecast had been calling for snow for days and he thought maybe it was finally coming. Another breeze sliced through his heavy winter coat, and he put his arm around her shoulders to shield her from the cold. They walked up the steps huddled together, and he held her close, the warmth of her body cuddled up against his side. She had such a big personality, such a big presence, he often forgot how small she truly was, how neatly she fit in his arms.

“All right, a kiss at midnight. I’m on it,” he said, and pressed the doorbell.

She looked up at him from underneath his arm, her face serious, but her eyes dancing with mischief. “If it’s any consolation, I’ll call a priest for you if the worst should happen.”

“Thank you,” he said, matching her mock-earnest tone. Did he imagine that her gaze flicked to his mouth, that for the briefest second, she licked her lower lip? Probably. But it was a damn fine delusion. “I knew I could count on you.”

The door swung open, bathing them in a rush of heat and light. Laughter and music floated out, and the distinctive sound of a champagne cork popping made Dean smile. Maybe it was going to be a good night after all. Ron threw the door open wide, grinning broadly as he ushered them inside.

Chapter Two

“Kat!” Ron said, escorting them into his home. Warmth and bright lights greeted them as they entered the foyer. People dotted the Venetian-style living room in pairs and small groups, while tuxedoed waiters passed out glasses of champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Murmured conversations mixed with the snazzy ragtime music, accentuated by the occasional burst of laughter. She and Dean waved to Alan as he passed by with a tray full of festive red martinis.

Ron kissed her on both cheeks, then pivoted on the heel of Gucci loafers to give Dean’s hand a hardy shake. “And Dean!” He smiled broadly. “I’m so glad you both came.” His gaze shifted between them. Kat caught the speculative twitch of his eyebrow as he took in Marine’s absence and Dean’s arm around her shoulders. She sighed inwardly. There was always speculation about her and Dean.

Ron loved matchmaking. She suspected that he originally intended for her and Dean to hook up way back when she started with Sharpe Designs and became an official member of the family. On her first day, she should have been placed with another graphic artist, but Ron had sat her next to his golden-boy designer instead. In a way, Ron had achieved another one of his magic pairings. It wasn’t the love match she was certain he hoped for, but they did work well together, making some truly unique websites for the eclectic clientele of artists and authors and small businesses Sharpe Designs catered to. The firm was large enough now to have separate art and production departments, but they still sat next to one another, sharing a small alcove on the top floor of the SoHo office building the company currently occupied.

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