Countdown To A Kiss A New Year's Eve Anthology

Countdown To A Kiss A New Year's Eve Anthology Page 21

Their absence wasn't noticed until Annabelle and Duncan arrived back at the party hand in hand, moonstruck by all accounts. If anyone had been watching--and no one was, due to the shenanigans on stage--they'd notice that the kiss they shared at midnight was both hungry and eager. In high spirits, watching Annabelle say goodbye to friends and relatives as the party began to dwindle, Duncan's only pang of uncertainty came when he overheard Annabelle tell one of her debutantes about instituting a "five date rule". He had a sinking feeling that that whole thing was going to come back and bite him in the ass.

Duncan's concern about getting along with Mr. Devine and gaining his favor was short-lived. The man seemed genuinely delighted to have a bit more testosterone around the house watching football during date number two. It was the Devine women who threw Duncan a curve ball from the moment he arrived.

It was hard to miss that Mrs. D was all grins and sighs whenever Duncan spoke about anything. And likewise, Grace--no longer the fairy princess but still a knockout in her faded blue jeans-stared at Duncan wide-eyed in wonder for most of the day. Tess...Well, Tess didn't pay him much mind, though when she did deem to acknowledge his presence, it was always with a great amount of personal satisfaction. As if Annabelle had told her that he did, indeed, kiss as well as Lewis Kampmueller--and that in some way Tess was pleased for her sister.

Annabelle, herself, was simply more.

More sporty--in jeans and a Carolina blue v-neck sweater--her red hair in a high pony-tail with a twist that bounced with so much life he couldn't help but tug on it.

More playful--as she interacted with him and her family. Her knowledge of football and sports in general, setting her apart from the other females.

More handsy--touching him casually in front of her parents and in more shocking ways when she pulled him into the kitchen to prepare a plethora of snacks.

She was a handful, this Annabelle Devine, stealing kisses and insinuating about Saturday night every chance she got.

The complete package was more to his liking than Duncan could have dreamed. Annabelle was a rose, with more soft and intriguing petals than he could count. He definitely did not want to blow this. But after stopping in at the Bennetts' before heading back to Raleigh, he began to worry that he already had.

"Aren't you a little young for needing Viagra?" Vance started in on him by the beer refrigerator out in the garage. "I mean, just because you can't get it up doesn't mean you have to ruin things for the rest of us."

Duncan squinted at the fool in front of him. "What the hell are you talking about, Evans?"

Vance just looked disgusted and took a swig from his bottle.

"He's just a little pissed at this five date rule," Brooks offered.

"Oh shit."

"Oh shit is right," Vance agreed, popping Duncan's chest with the lip of his long-neck bottle. "I don't care if you want to play the gentleman for Ms. Devine or if you're covering up the fact that you've been neutered. Leave the fucking rest of us out of your insanity, Dunc. Some of us are interested in getting laid before the fifth date. Before any date," Vance spat.

"How the hell did this get out?"

"Oh, bro. It's out. It's out and alive and crawling all over the place," Brooks said. "The women of Henderson are loving this. They'll probably have a statue erected in your honor. Anyone with a daughter is singing your praises right about now. Of course," he said, taking a swig of beer, "anybody with a pair of balls would like to cut yours off."

Duncan squeezed his eyes shut and stood contemplating all the ramifications of his conversation with Annabelle. And the one he focused on was the horror of Annabelle finding out the actual truth. Because for someone who prided himself on valuing truth above all else, he'd gone and bent it twice in one day. And he knew himself and his temper well enough to know that, had Annabelle been the one doing the truth bending, he'd be walking away and not looking back.

He knew he should keep it to himself, but the guilt had started to grow the moment he'd seen the emotion in her eyes. He couldn't do it. He couldn't keep this in. He had to tell somebody.

"Look," he said, releasing a huge breath. "I wasn't trying to be a gentleman. The truth is, I just couldn't find the damn zipper on her dress."

By the time Duncan stood on the doorstep of Annabelle's condominium in Raleigh, ready for date number three, he'd considered and rejected a million ways to tell her the truth.

What he'd said was true. He damn well didn't want a one-night stand. And he had no intention of making love in that crazy-ass car of hers. But he was only a man for God's sake, and a weak one at that. Things had heated up faster than he could keep ahead of, and his saving grace was that her dress had zipped up the side, not the back. So he'd fallen back on Plan A and told her the truth. But when she didn't respond, he'd felt vulnerable and threw out the five date rule bullshit. And now she'd gone and told the debutantes and who knew who the hell else. No wonder her mother and sisters were looking at him with big ol' eyes all afternoon.

He wanted Annabelle to fall in love with him, but not under false pretenses. He had to tell her the truth.

But date number three at the sports bar went so well--eating hamburgers and discovering more and more about each other--including a bunch of mutual friends--that Duncan literally forgot the dark cloud hanging over everything. Who would have guessed that a red-headed Southern belle liked to ski the double black diamond slopes, or had her own bookie?

The date went later than either of them planned and for the second night in a row, at the stroke of midnight, there was a kiss that set off fireworks.

OMG falling fast. Annabelle texted Grace and Tess the next day. Sending pictures of possible lingerie for Saturday night. Stand by.

Annabelle snapped pictures of a combination camisole and boy-shorts, nude in color and adorned in French lace, a baby pink bra and panty set, and a sexy but fun black strapless negligee that tied under the bust with a big red bow.

Your signature white? Grace texted.

Wearing a killer white dress, she texted back. Her phone rang and Tess was on the other end.

"I like the red bow. Like he's opening a gift," Tess teased.

"Yeah." Annabelle smiled into the phone. "I thought so too. It's flirty. I just want to make sure it's not too flirty. Too much."

"Annabelle, you are planning to consummate this relationship, right? I don't think anything is too flirty at this point."

"I know," she said, moving to a corner of the store so her voice wouldn't be overheard. "It's just that Duncan is such a gentleman and I basically threw myself at him the other night. I'm nervous. Everything about him, us, seems so good. What if it doesn't hold up in the bedroom? What if he expects me to be all prim and proper? Or worse--what if he's all prim and proper?"

"You told me there was plenty of chemistry."

"On my side, yeah. My body is having its own nuclear meltdown. But he was the one who put on the brakes. I was a sure thing after one long kiss. I was the aggressor. What if that turned him off?"

"Little sister, this is music to my ears. I didn't think you had it in you."

"Oh, it's in me. Apparently Duncan brings it out with a vengeance. I just...I just don't want to be the only one losing control. I want him to be, you know, crazy for me."

"Trust me on this," Tess said. "I've seen the way he looks at you. You have nothing to worry about. Buy the lingerie and call me on Sunday." Tess hung up.

Annabelle looked at her phone. "And then there is that pesky little detail of how we met," she said to herself.

Annabelle had an agenda all worked out for their movie date. Come clean, then seduce the hell out of Duncan.

Duncan, on the other hand, had his own agenda. Keep his hands as far away from Annabelle as he possibly could. After their last date, where he had to bite his own tongue in order not to beg her to let him escort her inside, he was determined to make it to tomorrow night. If nothing else, he hoped by then she'd be as horny as he when he told her the truth about the five date rule. He was fully prepared to give her the full-court press seduction and push not taking no for an answer within an inch of propriety.

During the action-packed thriller, when Annabelle's hand crept onto his thigh, creating the beginnings of a raging hard-on, he intertwined his fingers with hers and relentlessly held on to them for the rest of the movie. The only time he let himself go was when he pressed her up against the car door and took her mouth with his own, letting her feel the effect she had on him--promising her that tomorrow night would be worth the wait.

It wasn't until he was alone in bed that he remembered Annabelle saying, "I have something I need to tell you," right before he'd cut her off by maneuvering his way into her arms.

To Annabelle, the beginning of date number five was as poetic as Duncan had described. Her mouth watered when she opened the door to find him looking ridiculously handsome in a traditional blue blazer and gorgeous lavender Façonnable shirt and tie. She'd worn her hair up just in case he did bring her favorite flower, so she was delighted when he presented her with a gardenia, and promptly added it to her coiffure. Their elegant circular booth at The Capital Grille was cozy and secluded with an already decanted bottle of Rubicon cabernet awaiting their arrival. When she found the second gardenia artistically arranged among the votive candles, she fell in love. And as they sat side by side, enjoying a glass of wine after first indulging in a Stoli Doli, Capital Grille's signature cocktail, Annabelle was smiling inside and out because Duncan James couldn't keep his hands off her.

"When I first saw you tonight..." Duncan whispered, kissing the indentation beneath her ear, his fingers brushing tendrils of hair back from her neck, "you took my breath away." His mouth trailed down her throat. "You'd think I'd get used to it because it happens every time I see you." He brushed his lips and tongue over the tender spot at the base of her neck that so fascinated him. "Annabelle," he breathed, "I've been longing to bite you right here ever since New Year's Eve."

She tipped her head giving him better access, pressing a hand against his thigh in response to the heat and sensation. "That's good to know," she whispered. "I worried I may have been too forward."

He choked a stilted laugh and sat up, handing over her wine glass. "Finish your wine," he said. "I have a confession to make."

She eyed him suspiciously, taking a sip. "Is it so bad you have to ply me with fabulous wine? I know you're not married," she teased. But as their waiter approached, Duncan silently waved him off. That's when her stomach sank. "Okay, now I'm getting worried."

"I want to straighten out a misconception, before...before we...you know."

"Have sex," she supplied.

Duncan leveled her with that reprimanding stare. The one that let her know she was precariously close to crossing a line. His body became a fortress. One strong arm resting across the booth behind her, his broad shoulders hemming her in at the side, and his other arm tense on the table in front of her. He spoke in that quiet no-nonsense baritone that made her insides weep with longing and anticipation.

"Annabelle." God, she loved how he said her name. "Every word I told you in your car New Year's Eve was true. I wanted a second date. I wanted a chance at a relationship. I did not want a one-night stand." His upper body angled closer, causing her heart to pound. His gaze drifted to her mouth for a moment, then back to her eyes. "But with you on my lap, I was perfectly willing to take advantage of the situation anyway." His voice dropped to a whisper. "At one point, all I could think about was stripping you naked and,"--his gaze dropped briefly to her thighs--"sliding you down onto me."

Her eyes went wide as every bit of pent-up desire slid south and turned hot and moist. Her breath caught in her chest, her heart pounding enough to make her pulse points throb. She licked her lips and Duncan leaned closer.

"The truth is, the only thing that stopped me was that I couldn't find the zipper on your gown. It was much later that night when I realized the damn thing zipped up the side."

The sexual tension was too taut for her to laugh. The only thing she could think to say was, "Oh?"

Duncan eyed her mouth again before leaning back. "I got frustrated when I couldn't find the zipper," he said, moving his hand off the table and on to her thigh, "and that made me stop and realize where we were heading. I didn't want to give you the impression that sex was all I wanted. I didn't want to do anything to embarrass you or make you want to avoid me the next morning. But the point is," he said eyeing her heavily, "had the zipper been in the back where it normally is, I wouldn't have stopped. And this whole five date rule? Complete bullshit."

Annabelle felt her head nodding but her mind had shut down after the words "sliding you down onto me." With her body vibrating so intensely, the only thing she could think about was how she had to tell him the truth about how they met. Her heart squeezed at the thought of his rejection. God, she didn't want to ruin this.

Finding no way to avoid the inevitable, she finally pointed to his glass of wine. "Drink up," she insisted.

Duncan looked a little stunned. A little confused.

"Drink up," she repeated, motioning him toward the wine with her hand. "Because if that's the extent of your confession, I assure you it's a sonnet compared to what I have to tell you."

"Tell me?" he questioned, releasing her thigh and reaching for his glass. "Wait! Before you say anything. Are we good? I mean, are you okay with what I just said?"

She licked her lips and leaned in to kiss him, whispering, "I'm very okay with everything you just said."

His relief turned into a big, sultry grin. "Okay then." He took up his wine and downed what was left like it was cheap beer at a keg party, then all but smacked his glass on the table. "Your turn."

Tears threatened as Annabelle described how her father had overheard Brooks bet Duncan he couldn't give her a speeding ticket. How he'd come home that night and told her all about it. And then how he'd recommended she play along so she could meet Duncan and see if he was the kind of guy she'd be interested in.

While Annabelle talked, she saw Duncan's expression shift the moment he figured out where her story was heading. He sat there in silence through its entirety, staring at her. When he started to drum his fingers on the table, she wrapped it up, figuring no amount of talking was going to put the cat back in the bag.

"Are you done?" he said, his eyebrows lifting. Annabelle nodded a weak little nod, terrified of his next words.

Duncan turned to the waiter hovering in the distance. "Check, please."

"Oh my God. Duncan, no!" Annabelle pleaded, throwing her hands up to his shoulders trying to turn him around to look at her. "Please, don't be mad..." she went on, becoming aware of a suspicious shaking under her hands as he turned around. Laughing.

She threw him her very best pout, but he said, "You deserved that. You and your father. I cannot believe I was set up."

"Believe it," she groaned. "And it was brilliant...all except for the part where I started to fall for you. Then it became weird and twisted and this big fat lie that I had to live with-"

She saw the poor waiter scurry off again as Duncan pulled her close and shut her up with one long, hard kiss. Her toes literally curled. "You started to fall for me?" he asked against her lips, sounding very pleased.

Annabelle simply nodded against him.

"Okay, then. How 'bout that steak?"