The Kiss That Launched 1,000 Gifs (17 page)

A slight buzz moved through Grace at the knowledge before she tapped it down.

She couldn’t take Ash’s attention seriously. For all she knew, Ash was on a date with Traci that very moment and would be flirting with Emily at work again tomorrow… or soothing a crying baby while he flirted with its mother.

Grace took a slow breath as she remembered how seamlessly he had stepped in to help the woman with the stroller the day before. That kind of skill didn’t come on accident. He’d known exactly how to work the buckles and how to hold the little girl. He’d known just how to talk and the faces to pull as he bounced the baby and stopped her screaming. Grace had felt herself swoon a bit before looking around and realizing she wasn’t the only one. Literally every woman within fifty feet was watching Ash with a dreamy look in their eyes.

Grace wanted to hate him for how easily women bit on his hook, but she had to give him credit for the fact that none of his behavior was an act. Apparently he had some practice and was just good with babies—or at least female babies. Things might have played out differently if the baby was a boy.

Who knew?

Grace had known Ash for two years, and she didn’t have enough fingers and toes to count the number of women she’d seen go weak-kneed at the other end of his gaze. She’d always had Phillip to keep herself safe from his flirtations and invitations, but now Phillip was out of the picture. No more buffer. Now it was just up to her sense of self preservation to refuse Ash’s seemingly sensitive blue eyes as they tried to lure her into becoming one of his flings.

Nope. Wasn’t happening.

First off, it was way too soon. She and Phillip hadn’t even been apart a week.

Second, she just refused to be that stupid. Ashton Miller was what he was. And while she was more than happy to use what she knew of the man to her advantage, there was no way she wanted to get close enough to get burned.

Yes, Ashton Miller was a beautifully sculpted man. Yes, he was funny. Yes, she had talked to him for two hours a day for the past two years and never gotten tired of him. And yes, there were a lot of reasons to find his interest flattering, but the fact was that the man didn’t know how to commit and Grace had just spent three years dancing that dance. She didn’t want to start all over again with a new partner.

Grace glanced toward the main entrance, looking for Esme. What was taking her so long? Esme was supposed to drop by Small Steps and see if she could find out how much they had raised before helping Grace find something to wear tomorrow.

Grace needed an extra pair of eyes, because nothing was looking right. Every dress was too… something. Too casual. To skimpy. Too professional. Too plain. Too tight. Too expensive.

She needed to drop Ash’s jaw without looking like she was trying too hard. Plus, she needed something that would go with the pair of jeans Ash would no doubt be wearing. The man was permanently in casual mode—something she would definitely fix if they ever dated.

Which they wouldn’t.

Grace was eyeing a blue sleeveless dress with a triangle cutout in the back when Esme approached as quickly as her high heels would let her. When she made it to Grace’s side, she gripped her hand and whispered, “Twelve grand.”

Grace flinched in honest surprise. “As in $12,000?”

Esme nodded. “As of thirty minutes ago, yes. And considering that their goal was to raise $25,000 by the end of tomorrow night—with all the games and everything—I can tell you that the crew over at Small Steps is pretty giddy right now.”

Grace was still stuck on the number. “Twelve seconds?”

“Yeah.”

Grace’s heart picked up its pace, imagining what could happen in twelve seconds, before she blinked the images away. “That’s dangerously close to make-out territory.”

“It kind of is,” Esme agreed, looking more intrigued than scandalized. “You’ll be venturing into the territory where it starts to get weird if there’s no tongue.”

Grace shook her head. “There will be no tongue. That I can promise you.”

“I’m not judging either way,” Esme said with a shrug. “I would go there.”

Grace felt an unexpected ping of jealousy run through her. “Excuse me?”

Esme smirked playfully. “What? If a guy that hot is going to kiss me, I’m going to make sure he remembers it. I don’t care if you like him or not, you should still want to knock his socks off.”

Grace grew still for a moment, unsure what she was feeling, but fully aware of the kick of her heart against her chest. But seriously, did she want to knock his socks off and leave him off balance, or what?

“They’re going to show the kiss on the news,” she said lamely.

“So keep it covert,” Esme said, checking out the blue dress herself. “I like this one. You look great in bold colors.”

Grace pointed to the back. “Yeah, but I think the back cutout is too racy for the news.”

“Hmm. Probably,” she agreed, and they moved on. “But we’ll find something that will make it clear to every man in the room that you’re back on the market.”

“Yeah,” Grace said, feeling a bit nervous when she realized she didn’t care what any other men thought about the dress. Only Ash.

That was not a good sign. But Grace could work on her wayward thoughts of Ashton Miller later. Right now, she needed a dress.

The local park had been turned into a small fairground by Small Steps. There were bouncy houses and games. There was a row of food vendors selling everything from Indian food to candied almonds. Grace had gone with the almonds. Everything else seemed like a bad flavor for a kiss, and she needed something to even out her blood sugar.

There were hundreds in attendance, and the closer it got to concert time, the more it looked like the attendance might be in the thousands, and a lot of them were fans of the show. Grace might be on the TV every day, but she was rarely treated like a celebrity in the real world. Recognized, yes. But no one really wanted pictures or autographs.

But at this particular fund raiser on this particular day, Grace was an outright celebrity. She’d never posed in more pictures. The first ones were with the Small Steps staff, who were giddy but tight lipped about how much they’d earned. They were still taking cash donations at the door, so the tally wasn’t final. Their enthusiasm made Grace a bit nervous, but she tried not to think about it too hard. Everything would be on the table at 8:00, before Neon Trees hit the stage.

Until then, Grace mingled, gave an interview for the paper and then another interview for their news broadcast, teasing the kiss that would be on the nightly news where they would reveal the amount it raised for Small Steps.

Everything was so insane that Grace almost forgot that she was at her first event without Phillip in a long time, and her first time going anywhere without a date in… forever. Unless Esme counted as a date.

Grace gripped her friend’s hand and squeezed it. “Seriously, thank you for coming solo.”

Esme squeezed back. “Hey, happy to play camerawoman for all these strangers on your big day.”

Grace looked around at the packed park. “There are a lot of people here, aren’t there?”

“Yeah,” Esme said. “But if it makes you feel better, I think they’re here for the band. Not you.”

Grace grinned. “That makes me feel a whole lot better. Thanks.”

“No prob.”

Just then, Ash stepped in next to them. He was wearing jeans. Grace had called that one. Although in a surprise move, he had opted for a button-up shirt, a formality he compensated for by keeping it untucked and rolling up the sleeves. Still, it was a nice, summery blue color that almost made it look like he’d tried to coordinate with the floral crop top and pencil skirt she and Esme had picked out the night before. Visually speaking, their outfits would look good together under the lights of the stage.

“This is insane, right?” he said, then he turned and looked at Esme, holding out his hand. “Hi. I’m Ash.”

Grace’s eyes narrowed. Ash? Since when did he introduce himself as Ash?

Esme slid her hand into his. “I know who you are.”

He sent Esme one of his lopsided grins—the kind that always got a smile in return, even if you knew it was coming. “Then you have one up on me. I don’t have the pleasure.”

Pleasure? Pleasure? Whatever he was playing at, her best friend was definitely off limits.

Grace watched as her coworker and her best friend shared a smile. When Esme spoke, her voice was a little breathless.

“I’m Esme.”

What. Was. Happening? Because whatever it was, it was definitely not happening. Not under Grace’s watch.

“Esme is my best friend,” Grace said.

“Ah,” Ash beamed. “So you’re the one I need to get in with for dirt on Grace.”

To Grace’s surprise, Esme didn’t snap back. She purred. “That would be me.”

They were still “shaking” hands, and it was all Grace could do not to slap their hands apart. They’d met. That part was over. They could stop touching now.

“We should do lunch,” Ash said, eyes on Esme.

“Nope,” Grace replied before Esme could say anything to the contrary. “Get your dirt somewhere else, Ash. Esme’s off limits.”

Ash grinned at Grace, finally releasing Esme’s hand. “Chicken.”

“Poacher,” she replied, looking around. “Unless you want to trade. Did you bring that niece of yours that you’re always talking about? We could trade lunch dates.”

He visibly paled. “It’s probably best not to involve minors.”

She grinned. “Now who’s the chicken?”

Ash’s eyes narrowed competitively. “It’s going to be fun to kiss that smirk off of your face for once.”

Esme’s mouth formed a small “oh” of surprise as Grace stepped forward. “Yeah? We’ll see who’s smirking when all is said and done.”

When a flash went off, Grace realized that people around them were taking pictures. Not good. She backed off and made her smile more pleasant. “By the way, we should totally post a quick selfie and ask listeners to predict how much they think we’ve raised tonight.”

“Sure,” he said as she pulled out her phone and found her light.

“Say cheese,” Grace said, feeling ridiculous the moment the words left her mouth. Say cheese? Who said that anymore? But what was done was done. All she could do now was pretend not to notice Ash’s cologne as she snapped a few shots. She quickly typed in a caption: The countdown begins to the big kiss for Small Steps. How much do you think we raised? When she was done, she showed Ash her screen. “Work for you?”

He glanced at it and nodded. “Works for me just fine.”

“Good,” she said, hooking her arm into Esme’s to lead her away. “See you in a few, Ash.”

Then, for reasons she didn’t want to analyze, Grace fled.

“Are you ready for the Neon Trees?” Allison called out into the stage’s microphone.

The crowd cheered and whistled. Megan and six of her friends screamed like teenagers next to Ash, bringing a smile to his face. He was giving them their space, but it was nice to see his niece acting her age. And the fact that he had been able to get Megan and her friends into the concert only improved his cool-uncle status.

“We’re only minutes away!” Allison said. “But before we go to the main event, we have a last-minute co-main event to address. Grace? Ashton? Do you want to come up here?”

Megan sent him a smile and held up a high-end DSLR camera she had borrowed. She had warned him:
There will be GIFs.

Somehow that felt more ominous than knowing he and Grace were going to be on the news.

But as Ash made his way onto the stage, one look at Grace told him he’d laid the groundwork well. Even though she was smiling and waving to the audience as she made her way up onto the stage, he could tell she was still annoyed from when he’d approached Esme. Good. An annoyed Grace was a more reckless Grace, and that’s what he wanted in the woman he was about to lock lips with: a dash of poor judgment.

“Most of you probably know these two from the radio show, Battle of the Sexes,” Allison said into the mic. “Some of you might even follow the flirty hashtag speculating as to whether or not these two will ever throw politics to the wind and become a couple—”