Page 6 of One Vow

“She’s missed all the fun that can be found on a university campus. And since this is her last year at the illustrious school that can’t be named thanks to the fuddy-duddy board of chancellors here at one of Maine’s,” extra emphasis there, “most prestigious universities we’re going to fix that.”

Over the last few months, the university demanded she stop giving out her location because once or twice, she might have earned herself a stalker that showed up on campus. Turned out, internet fame was dangerous.

But so was walking up to a stranger and kissing him without warning or a word of approval before the unrequested and possibly unwanted with potential for rejection lip-smacking. Still, that was the plan for this afternoon.

And had the kissee to my kisser been anonymous, my stomach wouldn’t have had a thousand or so of the previously mentioned butterflies working together to beat their way to escape. And my head wouldn’t have been swimming with just the idea of walking across the lawn to be close enough to see him.

Finn sat about 20 yards away, on the rim of the fountain, sun shining on his golden hair making it look almost blonde with his eyes hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses. Oblivious. Reading. His focus on anything but me and Sofia.

She gave me a shove in the back, and I stumbled then turned to her. Oh yeah. She got the whole thing on camera. So, my only option for redemption was to hold my head high, march up to him, and lay a kiss on him that made his world spin while I remained obviously unaffected and stone-faced. “Here I go.”

I didn’t stutter step or trip. I didn’t fall into his lap. I didn’t do any more to embarrass myself than to stop in front of him and wait.

The deal was, I couldn’t speak. Had to just go in for the kiss and hope he wasn’t the kind of guy who swung first and asked questions later. Also had to hope there wasn’t some crazy girlfriend, Sofia would know if he had one, I hoped, waiting to stomp me a new ass crack.

As soon as I tugged him to his feet, I realized my mistake. I’d underestimated how his height coupled with my short stature would affect my ability to make this happen. I should have just leaned in and planted the kiss. Damn. Now it was going to look wonky on film. I would look like a novice. Like I’d never been kissed. Desperate. Needy. Inexperienced.

I had to save this moment. Had to make it look like I had some kind of clue. I channeled Sofia. She always knew exactly what to do. She would slide her palm up his chest to tangle in his hair. Then she’d nudge him down, close her eyes, and press her lips against his.

At least, that was what I did. And holy, holy, holy shit. His lips were soft as they caressed mine and his arms strong when he wrapped them around me and nestled my body as close to his as I could get without actually being inside his clothes with him. And this kiss lasted…forever and not nearly long enough. He used his tongue to trace the seam of my lips and whether I intended it or not, and I would take that information to my grave, my mouth opened, and his tongue slid against mine.

My knees went weak and warmth curled through me from my belly outward to my fingertips and my toes and the ends of my hair. There wasn’t a single part of me that didn’t want to rub against him while I purred like a satisfied kitten.

Nothing in my life had ever felt better. Nothing. Not a single thing. In my life. Ever. Probably never would.

He pulled back. “If that’s what being your study buddy is like, I’m going to need a copy of your class schedule so I can sign up for all your classes.”

I smiled. Still, by kiss cam rule, which incidentally I found appalling, not allowed to speak. Instead, I turned and walked away. Tripped three steps out. Landed on my chest, my chin, and my hands while my legs did some crazy scorpion thing and ended up with my feet somehow smacking the back of my head. I knew because the video of that fall was my first foray into internet fame when it went viral. Although it wouldn’t be my last.

3

Finn

My choice for accommodations came down to a bed and breakfast that doubled as a dairy farm and smelled like it, or a chain motel outside of town. Neither place cared that I was a doctor, or that my future wife was a talk-show host. There was no impressing anybody, these days, it seemed.

I pondered the choices presented to me, but really, all I could think about was how close to nonexistent the sliver of hope was that I could get back together with the woman that was still my wife. That weighed on my mind heavily.

My dilemma became even more bleak when I learned an awful truth. Neither of my choices for accommodation had…accommodation available.

The Santa Claus convention for the greater east coast was in town, with only a few days left until Christmas Eve, and the manager at the chain motel didn’t want to kick a Santa from his room. She might end up on the naughty list. She actually said that to me as I stared at her bleakly.

I drove to my final option, one that hadn’t changed a bit in the decade I’d been gone. Well, it changed a little. The same sofa sat in front of flat screens the size of the walls they hung on and the same tables held a new tower of beer cans since ours was demolished right around the time everything else fell down around us. The place still smelled like stale booze, smoke, and sweat socks, though.

No way could I stay there. I walked out and drove to a bar. There wouldn’t be anyone there I knew, and that suited me fine.

I didn’t want to admit how seeing Felicity again affected me. Seeing her made my guts twist and my heart ache. So much time had passed and, eventually, I’d learned how not to think of her. How to shield myself when some woman I passed on the street wore Felicity’s perfume or had hair with the same sun-streaked color or had big blue eyes.

Today, she undid all of it. Well, actually, I did since I couldn’t blame her for all the reactions that went through me when I saw her again. I could try to drink them away though, which is exactly what I did. With a guy who’d lost his job.

“Fired after 27 years.” He shook his head and stared down into his whiskey. “At Christmas.”

“Hard time to be unemployed.” I could be sympathetic.

“And in town for Christmas with the wife’s family and her perfect sister, Cheryl.” He nodded and downed his drink then motioned for another. “And her perfect husband, Chip or Skip or Joe.” He glanced at me. “Tell you the truth, she goes through ‘em like my wife goes through purses.” His laugh, a loud guffaw of noise, tumbled through the emptiness of the bar. “You got a wife, kid?”

Well…

“Yeah.” That was the truth. I definitely had a wife. A beautiful, smart, funny, sexy wife. “I do have a wife.”