Pucker Up by Valerie Seimas Page B

be everything.  You’re still painting these bubblegum pink.”
    “You
first.”
    “Fine.” 
He drained the liquid from his glass and placed it on the windowsill.  “Let’s
see, what’s changed in the last decade.  I live with two women who have me
wrapped around their little fingers.  Got really good at braiding hair because
Peter is still useless when it comes to ‘styling’ as the girls say. Never put
that whole tinkering in the garage thing to rest; I’m a general contractor
now.  Andrews Construction and Consulting.  I sit behind my desk more often
than I like but still get to be outside and work with my hands.  And I haven’t
had a taste of lemon since you left.”
    Faith
just barely stopped herself from recoiling at his last statement – there was
too much honesty and subtext there.  She hadn’t wanted to be alone, sure, but
she hadn’t wanted to be this present either.  She could feel him pulling her
down a road she was sure she’d get lost on.  She couldn’t handle lost again.
    “Your
turn.”
    “Uh,
let’s see.  I went vegan – ”
    “I
already know that.  Next.”
    “How
do you know that?”
    Dustin
shifted restlessly before answering.  “Read it in a magazine.  Tell me things
I’m not gonna read in a magazine.”
    “You
read about me in magazines?”
    He
snorted.  “Peter likes to keep me up to date on your press, Ms. West.”  He
paused and his eyes turned serious.  “Tell me about you, Ally.”
    When
he called her that, how could she not answer truthfully.  Damn this man.  “I
live with a rather haughty Persian cat who prefers my maid since I’m always on
the road.  I hire people to braid my hair, or straighten it actually since
curls are so last decade I’m told.  Never put that whole singing thing behind
me; I’m a bona fide pop sensation now.  I spend too much time on a bus and make
too few of my own decisions.  But I get to sing, and even now that I’m by
myself, there’s still thousands of people that want to listen.  And I have
lemons every chance I get.”
    “You
smell like lemons.”
    “It’s
my shampoo.”
    “God,
I missed you.”  He said it so quietly she wondered if he knew he’d voiced the
thought aloud.
    Faith
just shook her head and leaned back against the wall, not quite closing her
eyes so she could peer at him from underneath her eyelashes.  “What part?  The
crazy girl not grounded in reality.  The insane diva who always had to get her
way.  The spoiled brat who never learned responsibility.  Which one of those
did you miss?”
    “The
dreamer who thought anything was possible.  The explorer that blazed her own
trail.  The adventurer that leapt without looking.  That girl, I miss her.”
    “I
miss her too,” Faith agreed.  And then she watched as his hands moved slowly
from her foot to her ankle, slow strokes of his fingers fanning the flame of
desire she was sure she had under control.
    “Think
I could convince that girl to come out and play?” Dustin whispered. 
    His
hands continued to move up her body, skimming her calf and across her knee. 
“She doesn’t think that would be such a good idea.” 
    Faith
almost swooned at the quick, half-cocked grin that appeared on his face, so
close to her own now he was all she could focus on.  “That never stopped her
before,” he said, looking down as his hand caressed her thigh, still crawling
higher.
    “We
all have to grow up sometime, right?”  There wasn’t much conviction in her
voice.  Not when his thumb brushed against her hip.  Not when he made a low
growl at discovering it was bare. 
    “Not
tonight we don’t.”  He leaned forward, his lips barely brushing her ear to
whisper, “Pucker up.”
    His
flirty words made her gasp, remembering.  “I…” She wasn’t sure how to answer,
not sure if she was anything close to that girl anymore.  Her breath was coming
quickly, as if running a marathon and about to cross the finish line.  She
reached a