Kiss Me Quick E-Book

Jennifer Bernard

• Herausgeber: Jennifer Bernard
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Seitenzahl: 204

Beschreibung

Collected Short Stories

Waking Up Married

It’s all fun and games until you wake up married.

The Beach House

Summer is for lovers (and ex-boyfriends you never thought you'd run into again).

Falling for the Fireman

When danger threatens a fashion model, it’ll take a special kind of hero to save them both.

Stormy with a Chance of Christmas

Christmas Eve has a big surprise for two former high school sweethearts.

One New Year’s Eve

One chance encounter can change everything for a ballplayer moonlighting as a bartender. 

Three, Two, One…Fireman

Is New Year's Eve the perfect time for a do-over of the worst date ever?

Leseprobe

Kiss Me Quick

Collected Shorts

Jennifer Bernard

Contents

Foreword

Waking Up Married

The Beach House

Falling for the Fireman

Stormy with a Chance of Christmas

One New Year’s Eve

Three, Two, One … Fireman!

Foreword

How’s this for a challenge: write something short and fun, with a complete story involving two people at some point in the falling-in-love process. Give it a happy ending (of course)! Make it like a piece of candy you can pop in your mouth—like a delicious snack that won’t demand too much time, but leaves you with a happy smile. I love this kind of challenge!

Sometimes there’s another twist, as with a few of the stories in this collection. In Waking Up Married, The Beach House, and One New Year’s Eve, the first lines were all agreed upon with a group of fellow romance authors. (Contact me if you’d like to know more about that!)

With other stories, there’s an established series to connect to, as is the case with Falling for the Fireman and Stormy with a Chance of Christmas.

No matter what the inspiration, I had loads of fun writing all of these stories. Some are shorter, some are a bit longer. They’ve existed in various locations, hiding out here and there, sent out to my mailing list, or for sale on my website. But never before have they been collected into one volume.

I hope you enjoy Kiss Me Quick, and happy snacking!

1

It's all fun and games until you wake up married…

…in a heart-shaped hotel bed, on top of the covers, next to a pretty girl checking her watch. "Time to get divorced!" the girl announced cheerfully.

It had been such a whirlwind night that it took a few moments for Chase to remember who she was.

"Cindy. Cindy Tran."

She reached for the bedside table to snag her glasses, vintage cat's-eyes with rhinestones. They went perfectly with her whole retro vibe, which was somewhere between smart-ass and badass. She was still wearing her clothes from the night before--except for the wedding veil.

"Well, it's Cindy Tran only because I insisted on keeping my name. If you had it your way, I'd be Cindy Merriweather by now. Which makes me sound like some kind of suburban dream trophy wife, which, hello, I'm obviously not."

Chase sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "No need to be so hard on yourself."

She snorted. "I'm sorry, did you think 'dream trophy wife' is something I aspire to? Believe me, I have bigger and better goals in life."

Chase eyed her with a mixture of fascination and wariness. He'd never met anyone quite like Cindy Tran before. Since he'd first located her last night, she'd confused, infuriated, and amused him more than anyone he'd ever known.

"I have no idea what you aspire to. We've known each other, what, fifteen hours?"

"Yup, which makes it about time for the divorce."

He laughed, running his hand through his hair. "I don't know. That sounds kind of rushed. Maybe we should give it more time. Like, have breakfast first." His stomach rumbled with hunger. The action-packed fifteen hours since he and Cindy met hadn't included any food.

She cocked her head at him and eyed his hair. "Okay, what's with the perfect bed-head? I thought you rich boys had to pay big bucks to get your hair to look like that."

"What makes you think I'm rich?" His stomach growled again. "I could really go for some waffles. You like waffles?"

"Who doesn't like waffles? And I know you're rich because you're an unpaid intern who offered to get my parents' house out of foreclosure. And you insisted on getting us this bitchin' honeymoon suite with the free mini-bar. Remember?"

He squinted as the memory came swimming back through a fog of Long Island Iced Teas. "Oh yeah. Well, the offer still stands."

"The waffles or the house?"

"Both."

"Forget it, rich kid. I don't want your money, but I'll take breakfast. Waffles, then divorce. It's a plan."

The original plan had been completely different. Chase had driven from Jupiter Point to Las Vegas at the request of Will Knight, his boss and the man engaged to Chase's half-sister Merry. Will used to be a deputy sheriff, and Cindy Tran had been a civilian assistant at his office. Will called her the best assistant they'd ever had—smart and funny and definitely going places.

Then she'd disappeared when Will found out she was doing the bidding of a local drug smuggling ring. She had a good reason; they'd threatened her parents. Ever since Will had put it all together, he'd been worried about Cindy. Finally he'd gotten a tip that she was hiding out in Las Vegas.

So when Chase became Will's intern, his first big solo assignment had been to go to Vegas, find Cindy Tran, and keep an eye on her.

Not talk to her.

Not drink Long Island Iced Teas with her.

Definitely not marry her.

So much for plans.

Chase had first spotted Cindy at a poker table at the Rio. He'd worried that it might be hard to identify one particular twenty-something among the throngs of partiers, but it was easy. She looked nothing like the other deadly serious poker-faced gamblers. She wasn't the only Asian, or even the only Asian woman, or even the only young Asian woman. But she was the only one wearing a red conductor's cap shading her face, her hair in two pigtails, vinyl boots printed with Marilyn Monroe images, and a black vinyl backpack slung over her shoulders.

Also, her poker face was sadly lacking. From the next table over, Chase kept a close eye on her as she played hand after hand. Her right eyebrow always twitched upward when she had a good hand. If he'd been playing against her, he would have cleaned her out in no time.

But the other players at her table didn't notice that detail, so she was doing pretty well.

He ordered another club soda—he was on the job, after all—and texted Will.

Found her. What now?

Just don't lose her. I'll come as soon as I can. Good job, Will answered.

Chase appreciated the pat on the back. He knew perfectly well that people saw him as an overprivileged spoiled rich kid. Part of that was accurate. He was overprivileged, he was rich, but he wasn't spoiled and he also wasn't a kid anymore. He'd broken with his parents in order to track down Merry and claim her as his sister. He was done letting them control his life. He didn't want their world; he wanted something more real, more nitty-gritty, more meaningful.

Doing the investigative work to find Merry had been so fun and satisfying that he'd asked Will if he could work with him at his new private detective agency. Unpaid, for now, until he'd proven himself.

Well, so far, so good, he thought smugly as he watched Cindy win another hand. He'd tracked down a vulnerable girl who was possibly still in danger from a drug ring. And now he was going to protect her until Will arrived. He was pretty darn good at this gig.

Except that he needed a bathroom break.

He waited until the dealer at Cindy's table started the next hand, so he could be sure she wouldn't disappear before he got back. Then he slipped off his chair and hurried to the restroom.

Surveillance skills, check. Deductive reasoning, check. Internet search savvy, check. Really, he had it all when it came to detective work. And it was fun, too. Hanging out in Las Vegas surveilling a pretty girl like Cindy Tran? No complaints from Chase Merriweather about that.

Until he walked out of the restroom and found himself flat against the wall with a hand around his throat.

Cindy's hand.

A five-foot tall Vietnamese girl had him cornered. So maybe his self-defense skills needed some work if he was going to continue with this investigating gig.

"Why are you stalking me? Who are you?" she demanded.

He tried to answer, but only a croak came out. He gestured at his throat. She loosened her grip only slightly, just enough so he could speak. "Will," he managed.

"Will what? Will I kick your ass unless you tell me what you're up to? Yes, I will."

He peeled enough of her fingers away from his neck so he could elaborate. "Will Knight sent me."

A guilty look flashed across her face. "From Jupiter Point?"

He nodded. She released her grip on his throat and took his wrist instead. She dragged him down the carpeted corridor, then around a few more corners until they entered the Jolly Roger, a restaurant at the end of the casino area. She headed for the farthest, darkest corner of the long bar.

"Two Long Island iced teas," she told the bartender as she hopped onto a stool.

"I'm not drinking," Chase told her, taking the seat next to her. "I'm working."

"So you say." The drinks arrived and she pushed one toward him. "The question is, for who?"

"I told you, for Will. He's a private eye now, and he's engaged to my sister and—"

"But he just started," she interrupted. "He doesn't have any employees."

"I'm an intern," he admitted. "I'm not getting paid."

"Then you can drink. What's he going to do, fire his future brother-in-law?" She sipped her iced tea through a straw and watched him. He weighed his options. Perhaps the best way to keep tabs on Cindy was to hang out with her. That way he wouldn't lose track of her before Will showed up.

He took a sip, nearly gagging at the combination of liquors that went into the drink. "Are you trying to kill me with this?"

She considered him, her head tilting so her one pigtail brushed against her shoulder. "I suppose that's one way to go. But no, it's not Plan A. So Will sent you to apprehend me?"

"No." He took another swallow of the vile drink. "Apprehend? Of course not. He's not a deputy anymore. He's just worried about you. He knows about your parents."

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "Knows what?"

"Well, he knows that Buckaroo Brown holds the mortgage on their house and he's foreclosing on them. I assume that's why you're here. Do you really think poker's the way to get the money?"

"Well, I thought about going back in time and being born into a wealthy family, but that means I'd have to go through puberty again. No thank you." He laughed, a little uncomfortably, since he had been born into a wealthy family.

"Ah-ha," she said. Her drink rattled in her straw. She ordered another one.

"Ah-ha, what?"

"The wealthy family reference." She pointed her straw at him. "That struck a nerve."

He thought about denying it, but didn't see the point. "What does it matter? I'm not the one gambling away my savings at a casino. Don't you know the house always wins?"

"Not always. If it always won, no one would ever try. Besides, I have a method. I'm actually up about five thousand dollars, or I was before I had to bust a creepy guy stalking me." She took another self-righteous sip, gazing at him pointedly.

"For the last time, I'm not stalking you," he began, exasperated.

"So you admit you're creepy?"

He couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. "You really think I'm creepy? I'm going to need another drink at this rate."

She grinned cheekily. At his signal, the bartender refilled his drink.

They drank in silence for a moment, eyeing each other like two cobras waiting for an opportunity to strike. "Okay, what's the real deal?" she finally asked. "Start from the beginning. What's your name?"

"Chase Merriweather."

"No, seriously. Like, not your spy game code name."

He winced. "Seriously, that's my name."

"Chase Merriweather, Private Eye? That's like Remington Steele territory. It sounds completely made up."

"Well, it isn't. You can look me up. Ever heard of the Merriweather department stores? It's a chain on the east coast. Family business."

Still looking puzzled, she traced a pattern in the condensation on her glass. "So why is a department store dude following me around Las Vegas?"

"How many times do I have to explain it? Will is worried that you might be in—" He broke off as she suddenly shifted her position, as though hiding behind him. "What's wrong?"

"That guy at the other end of the bar," she whispered. "He was at my poker table. I think he followed me over here."

2

Cindy peeked around the wide-shouldered, suede-jacketed form of "Chase Merriweather." Even though she still didn't completely believe his story, or his name, she didn't think he was dangerous—unlike the other man who'd just reappeared. This one looked like a genuine threat, with his mean stare and bulky jacket that could be hiding all manner of weapons. The dude scanned the bar, possibly searching for her. At least that meant he hadn't spotted her yet.

Since she'd been in hiding out here in Las Vegas, she'd picked up a trick or two. Chase Merriweather, with his square-jawed good looks and open smile, looked like he belonged in someone's wedding party, the groom's best friend who flew everyone to Vegas for a bachelor party. He certainly didn't come across as someone who wanted to do her harm.

She'd first noticed him at the next poker table over because…well, because she was a woman. And he was cute. Not just cute, but incredibly appealing, the kind of guy always on the edge of a laugh, the kind of honorable type who would step between you and a bully, or even a bullet.

Then she'd realized that he was watching her. He tried to be subtle about it, but the fact that he kept losing hand after hand while drinking nothing but club soda tipped her off.

Why would a blond, good-looking quarterback type have any interest in a quirky, smart-alecky, funky-glasses-wearing Vietnamese girl hiding from a drug ring? There was only one way to find out for sure.

Hence the ambush outside the men's room.

Why would he make up a connection to Will Knight? Will had always been her favorite person at the Jupiter Point Sheriff's Department. It made sense that he would be worried about her. All things considered, sticking with Chase Merriweather was probably her best bet right now. Especially if one of Buckaroo's men had just found her.

But maybe she could throw the scary man off. Her red cap was a total giveaway. She took off her backpack, then slipped the conductor's hat into it. She carried a number of items of clothing around with her, just for occasions like this, when she needed something to hide her face.

While she poked around in her bag for another sort-of disguise, she leaned closer to Chase, so they'd look like a couple. She noticed that he smelled really good, like a fresh breeze clearing away the smoky air of the bar.

He followed her lead, resting one elbow on the bar and putting the other on her knee. In that position, he completely blocked the man's view of her. Good thing she was smallish, though she liked to think that her personality made up for her size.

"Got a plan?" he whispered. She liked his eyes, which were a solid, trustworthy brown. He leaned closer, so only a few inches separated them.

She grabbed the first piece of fabric her fingers touched, and pulled it from her bag.

A wedding veil. She'd bought it at the same costume shop where she'd found the big sunglasses, the red busman's hat, the white beret, and all the other pieces of clothing designed to throw people off.

"That works," said Chase.

Wait, what?

He took the veil and settled it on her head. Its layers of filmy fabric surrounded her face, even tickling her nose. It smelled like a thrift shop. He adjusted the veil, brushing her face in the process, a light touch that made goosebumps rise on her arms.

"What are you doing?" She sneezed.

"Just go with it, okay?" He stood up and swept her into his arms. "Clear the way," he called to the other bar customers. "Gotta get to the church on time."

He carried her out of the bar and onto the street, while she pretended to gaze up at him adoringly from her nest of lace.

Outside, he set her down and twined one arm around her. "Did it work?" she whispered, blowing the veil away from her face.

"Don't know yet. Keep walking." Cuddled close, they strolled down the Strip, which was a blur of flashing neon and loud drunk people.

With her head resting on the hard muscle of his upper arm, she peered behind her. "He's following. He's still suspicious."

"Damn. How'd you get into this mess anyway?"

"You say that as if it's my fault. All I did was ace the test to get hired at the sheriff's department. Oh, and have parents who bought a house they couldn't afford."

Chase steered her around a drunk guy in a football jersey. "Why didn't you tell someone they were threatening you?"

She wanted to hit him, but that wouldn't exactly be in character for a bride on her way to a wedding. "Because they had someone parked next to my parents at all times," she hissed. "My parents barely speak English. They sacrificed everything for me, so I could have a better life, and I don't meant that ironically or sarcastically. Even though I'm hiding out from a smuggling ring at the moment, this is a better life. The point being, I couldn't let anyone hurt them! And I definitely can't let them be homeless."

"Okay, okay, of course not. Sorry."

"Will's probably really mad at me, isn't he?" That was one of the worst parts of the whole experience. She loved and respected Will, and hated the thought of betraying him.

"No, he understands. He says he'll protect you if you want to come back to Jupiter Point."

She shook her head. "I'm not going home without the money. I have to get my parents' house back."

"I'll give you the money."

"What?"

"Consider it a wedding present." They'd reached the White Chapel, where a flashing neon sign offered "Five-Minute Weddings!"

"I repeat, what?"

"That man is still following us. We have to make this look real." He swept her into a close embrace. And even though she was still reeling from his suggestion, she noticed that her body seemed to really, really like him. She went warm all over, and her inner thighs tingled.

"You seriously want to get married?"

"Will told me to protect you." He set his jaw stubbornly. "Well, he told me to keep an eye on you. But that means keeping you away from that man, because how can I keep an eye on you if he gets ahold of you? So, yes. Temporarily."

She checked over her shoulder again. The man was lingering behind them, pretending to window shop at a Gucci store. He definitely didn't look like the Gucci type. "Oh shit. He's still there. He's not buying the bride thing."

"Then we have to do what Merriweathers do best. Sell it, baby."

He took her hand and pulled her through the door of the chapel.

3

"You have to admit that our ploy worked," Chase said as they tucked into their waffles on their first day of waking up married. "Ever since we got married, no drug smugglers have been following us around." He bet that Will would be proud of him, but he hadn't dared to update him since their "wedding."

"Well, to be fair, none of them were following you around. I'm sorry to tell you, but you've married into a very sketchy situation."

"I picked up on that." He eyed her as she dragged a piece of waffle through her syrup. With her hair in a ponytail drawn through the back of a visor, she looked even younger than she had yesterday. He thought about what she'd been through at the hands of the smuggling ring, and his heart ached. "Has it been scary for you?"

"Very," she admitted. "I can tell you that since we're temporarily married. I've been scared and lonely. I didn't want to call my parents or let them know where I was. and I didn't want to set off any alarms. Mostly I'm worried for them."

"You're close to them." His heart twisted, since "close" was the last word he'd apply to his relationship with his family.

"Yes. Of course. They depend on me. And yet they drive me crazy. Families, right? What are you going to do."

He shrugged. "Just work around them, I guess. That's what I do."

"Mr. Rich Kid has to work around his family?"

He put down his fork with a clatter. "Hey, not cool. Don't you think we're past that?"

Looking shamefaced, she chewed on her waffle. "You're right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be making any kind of assumptions about you."

"That's all I ask. No assumptions."

"Actually, I can make a few, based on my extensive knowledge of you over the past," she checked her watch, "sixteen hours."

"Like what?" He braced himself. Usually, everyone thought he had it made, that his life was a cakewalk. Did this wry, brave girl think the same thing?

"Like that you're incredibly kind-hearted. That you're pretty selfless. That you care about other people. That you don't care all that much about money."

His jaw fell open a little. That was not what he'd been expecting. "How do you figure all that?"

"You do realize that we got spontaneously married without a prenup? If I really wanted to, I could get some cold hard cash out of the moneybags Merriweather family." She winked at him. "Good thing I'm so ethical."

"I already offered you a house."

"Which I'm not taking. Like I said, ethical."

"You're playing poker in Vegas. How is that ethical?"

She lifted her chin. "Because I'm doing it on my own two feet. That's what I'm talking about. Why should I take your money?"

"We're married."

"Oh, right. That must be why you're getting on my last nerve."

He laughed. "You're funny, you know that?"

She waved a forkful of waffle at him. "No flattery. I'm not staying married to you no matter how many houses you offer me. I know, I know, I'm breaking your heart. I'm your dream suburban trophy wife after all, aren't I?"

"I have to admit that so far I've enjoyed being married to you."

"It has its good points."

They grinned at each other and clicked their coffee mugs together.

"You know, after the divorce, if you come back to Jupiter Point we could try dating," Chase suggested. The idea had been percolating since he woke up next to Cindy. He liked her spunky attitude and the way she fought for her family. And that wasn't even counting her gorgeous skin, pretty black hair and wry sense of humor.

She put on a serious frown. "How would you feel about dating a divorced woman? Would your family be okay with that?"

"Divorce is kind of a family hobby for the Merriweathers."

"Not for the Trans. My parents would be shocked, but then again, they're shocked by most of the things I do. A random sixteen-hour marriage in Las Vegas would be the least of it."

He checked his phone. "Almost seventeen."

"Really? I guess time flies when you're married to a complete stranger."

"Complete stranger? Really?" He put a hand over his heart. "That hurts."

"Fine, you're my new best friend. Actually, you kind of are. You saved me from that man. I should be thanking you a lot more than I have. Really, thank you, Chase Merriweather. You're a good guy."

His heart swelled at her praise. Attraction aside, it felt really great to help someone. He decided he wanted more of that feeling, and not just with her. Helping people. That was what he really wanted to do. "What about a loan?"

"Excuse me?" She blinked at the rapid change in topic.