Chapter 16

No doubt about it. This definitely ranked in the top five dumbest things Luke had ever done.

“Any questions?” Vicky asked, beaming up happily up at him after going through the checklist on her clipboard.

“Dollar in the box, kiss this ugly mug,” Charlie said, leaning on the counter of the booth and pointing at Luke’s face. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t screw it up.”

Luke scowled at his friend. “Surely you have somewhere else to be.”

“Nope.”

“Great, then you can take my spot.”

Charlie grinned. “No can do. Deb has deemed my lips all hers.”

“Disgusting,” Luke muttered. “Does she know where they’ve been?”

Charlie ignored him. “So, Vick, love, is this a kiss-on-the-cheek thing or a…you know.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “The good stuff?”

“It’s whatever the paying client and Luke mutually agree upon,” Vicky said, as though she were negotiating an international peace treaty and not the nuances of a kissing booth.

Charlie jerked his thumb toward the booth to their left. “Where’s the girl?”

Yeah, where’s the girl? Luke’s thoughts echoed grumpily.

Vicky checked her watch. “She’ll be here. She still has a few minutes. You guys are just early. Oh, Luke, did I mention? There’s a contest.”

“Oh, good. I thought this couldn’t get worse.”

“What sort of contest?” Charlie said, rubbing his hands together.

Vicky pointed to the blue box in front of Luke, then to the pink box at what would be Jordan’s booth. “Whoever wins the most money gets one of Mrs. Mouse’s pies.”

“A pie,” Luke repeated.

“A Mrs. Mouse pie. Winner’s choice of flavor,” Vicky explained.

Charlie nodded reverently.

“I don’t like pie,” Luke said.

“Everyone likes pie,” Vicky insisted. “Not that it’ll matter if you keep up this bad attitude. Nobody wants to kiss a grumpy man.”

Jordan did.

Or at least she had. A week ago.

She’d been at Tucker’s both Thursday and Friday nights, but she’d only given him an impersonal wave; they hadn’t exchanged a single word.

He hadn’t seen her running either.

She was avoiding him. Or simply not interested.

Neither one did a single thing to ease his grumpiness.

“Hot damn,” Charlie muttered under his breath. “If Deb asks, I didn’t even notice, but…hot damn.”

“What are you—”

Luke was turning irritably toward his friend when his eyes caught what Charlie was going on about. Hot damn was exactly right.

He’d thought there could be nothing sexier than Jordan Carpenter in those sky-high stilettos she insisted on wearing, but he’d been wrong. Dead wrong.

Jordan in a tiny jeans skirt, white T-shirt, and cowboy boots was…

He swallowed.

“You’ve got exactly zero chance of winning this contest,” Charlie told Luke.

The fact that Charlie’s eyes were back on Luke rather than on Jordan’s thighs was the only thing that kept Luke from telling him to get lost.

“Oh, Jordan, you made it!” Vicky said happily. “I just need to walk you through the rules—”

“Allow me,” Charlie said, holding up a hand to halt Vicky’s clipboard lecture. “No tongue, you don’t have to kiss anyone you don’t want to, and there’s a whistle down to your bottom right if someone makes you uncomfortable.”

“I don’t want you to worry about a thing, though,” Vicky rushed to say. “I’m confident everyone will be perfect gentlemen, and if anyone gets out of hand, I’ll be nearby. And, of course, Luke will be right here.”

At that, Jordan looked at him for the first time, her blue eyes locking on his. She’d done something different with her makeup, which made her eyes look even bigger than usual, and her lips were pink and plump and…

Perfect for a kissing booth.

Damn it. He had zero chance of winning the pie, but that wasn’t what had him pissed. No, he was mad about the fact that anyone other than him would be kissing that perfectly delicious mouth.

Jordan broke the eye contact as Vicky ushered her into the booth, fluffing Jordan’s hair as though she were a doll. “You’re so pretty. I just know you’re going to be a huge hit.”

“You sound like the madam of a brothel,” Luke muttered.

“And how would you know what a brothel was like?” Vicky asked, giving him a look. “Jordan, doesn’t Luke look handsome?”

He rolled his eyes, but Jordan glanced over at him with a smile. “He does, yes.”

Luke glanced back at her, then away again, lest she see that he was dangerously close to grinning like an eighth-grader who’d gotten his first compliment from a girl.

“Well, this all looks like fun,” Charlie said, moving out from behind Luke’s booth and gesturing between him and Jordan, “but there’s definitely a deep-fried Twinkie and a hot third-grade teacher awaiting my company.”

Charlie winked at Jordan. “I’ll check back on you two kids soon. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Which means, basically, don’t have sex at the booth, and anything else is fair game,” Vicky said, eliciting a shocked laugh from anyone within hearing distance.

“Okay.” Vicky moved around to the front of the booths, whipped two flyers out of her clipboard, and hung one on top of each.

Luke poked his head forward, glanced up, saw the OPEN sign scribbled in black Sharpie.

“Go time,” Vicky said, giving them a happy wave before wandering away to yell at Jerry Hinkel to not even think about participating in the hot-dog-eating contest with his cholesterol.

There was a long moment of awkward silence, even as the ever-increasing number of fair attendees milled in front of them, and Luke surprised himself by being the first to speak.

“Did you agree to this just to piss me off?”

She leaned an elbow on her booth and turned to grin at him. “Mostly. Did you agree simply because I did?”

“Mostly,” he said, giving her a reluctant smile back. “You don’t have to, you know. Vicky won’t mind if you back out.”

She rolled her eyes. “Nice try, Elliott.”

They had to wait all of fifteen more seconds for their first customer. Jordan’s first customer.

A pimpled kid with puffy yellow hair shoved a dollar bill into the box and grinned happily at her as he adjusted his glasses.

Jordan grinned back, friendly and welcoming. “How old are you, handsome?”

“Sixteen. Seventeen next month.”

She turned her head, pointed playfully at her cheek. The teenager came eagerly forward, planting a quick, awkward kiss somewhere near her ear. He pulled back, and Jordan leaned forward, giving him a peck in return on his cheek.

The boy went from pink to scarlet, but even Luke had to smile at the elation on his face before he backed away and ran off.

He must have told his friends, because a minute later Jordan repeated the process with a group of equally gangly teenagers.

“That’ll give ’em something to talk about for months,” Luke said, after the last of the boys had moved on, talking about how she was a total babe.

“Speaking from experience?” Jordan asked.

“You mean am I still talking about your kiss? Nah, I’ve been saving it all for my diary.”

She let out a surprised laugh. “No, I meant when you were sixteen, did you talk about kissing girls on the cheek for months?”

“I never kiss and tell, City.”

“Here’s your chance to prove it,” she said, jerking her chin in the opposite direction.

He turned and, sure enough, a middle-aged woman was making her way toward him with very definite purpose.

She stuffed a five in the box. “I want five.”

“Um.” His brain scrambled in panic. “It’s one kiss per cust—”

The woman grabbed a fistful of his button-down and jerked him forward, promptly planting five very firm, no-nonsense kisses on his mouth.

She grinned as she pulled away, patting his cheek. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

The woman walked off, leaving Luke stunned and Jordan cracking up. “Not bad. High praise.”

“Shut up,” he muttered. “I think my lips are bruised.”

“Look on the bright side, you’ve nearly tied me in the competition with only one customer,” she said, gesturing to the box that now held a five, compared to her assortment of ones.

“Looks like my kiss is worth more.”

Jordan merely snorted.

Over the next hour, they each had a handful of customers. Most of hers were of the awkward-teenage variety, as well as a couple of older gentlemen who merely wanted the chance to kiss the cheek of a lovely young lady.

Luke found his mood improving since the men of Beacon County seemed to be minding their manners and no horny cowboys were taking advantage of what thus far had been good clean fun.

For his part, he’d been subjected to more than a few mouth kisses. The women at the fair, apparently, were bolder.

Although Jordan didn’t seem to notice or mind, which was…disappointing.

Not as disappointing, though, as the man who appeared in front of Jordan’s booth.

Luke had never seen the guy before—not that he knew everyone in the county, but he knew just about every person in Lucky Hollow by name, as well as a good amount from neighboring towns, courtesy of the high school football teams.

As far as Luke’s evaluation of other men went, well…fuck. The other guy was good-looking. Tall, black hair, blue eyes. Showered, which was saying something compared to some of the fair attendees.

He was also clean-cut and wearing…motherfucker, were those…cuff links?

Shit, this guy was right up City’s alley.

“Call me old-fashioned, but I like to know a girl’s name before I kiss her,” City Boy was saying.

City Girl leaned forward. Did she bat her eyelashes? “Name’s Jordan.”

The man laughed. “Shit, really? Mine too.”

Oh hell no.

Jordan let out a happy, girlish laugh. Flirtatious. “Seriously?”

“I’m going to be sick,” Luke muttered.

Neither Jordan looked at him.

The man reached into his back pocket, pulled out a fancy-looking wallet, and extracted a twenty.

“What does this get me?”

Jordan, the female version, crossed her arms and leaned forward. “Well, considering this is a family-friendly place and I’m not a prostitute, I’d say it gets you exactly what the sign says. A kiss. One per customer.”

Man-Jordan grinned and stuffed the bill into the box. “I’ll take it.”

Before Luke could figure out how to manufacture a natural disaster and stop this monstrosity, Man-Jordan made his move, closing the distance and kissing Woman-Jordan for far longer than necessary.

Luke’s jaw tensed as the kiss went on and on for…Seconds? Minutes? Hours?

He looked away. Tried not to care. Looked back, and…for God’s sake.

Luke was appeased slightly that it was Woman-Jordan who pulled back first. His eyes scanned her profile, looking—hoping—for disgust.

Instead, she looked…

Well, shit, he couldn’t tell.

Man-Jordan looked a little more…well, affected. Luke hated the man, but he couldn’t blame him. He knew firsthand that kissing this woman felt strangely life-altering.

“Thanks for the donation,” she was saying, patting the box in gratitude. “It all goes to charity.”

Man-Jordan laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “Not gonna lie, that wasn’t my primary motivation. How long do you have to work the booth?”

She glanced at her watch. “Just until two.”

Not so long ago, the two hours he and Jordan were expected to work a damn kissing booth had felt interminable. Now it wasn’t nearly long enough. Not if…

“If I’m here at two, can I take you”—Man-Jordan leaned in with a grin—“on the Ferris wheel?”

Another of those flirty laughs from Woman-Jordan. “I’d like that.”

“See you then, Jordan.”

“I’ll be here, Jordan,” she said with a wink.

The man and his cuff links finally walked away, and Luke stared at Jordan hard until she finally sensed his gaze and glanced over. “What?”

“What the hell was that?” he asked.

She straightened and fluffed her hair a bit. “That was a kiss. Followed by the arrangement of a date.”

“You said yes.”

“Well. Yeah. I’m single and he was cute.”

“You live in New York.”

“I’m aware of that, Luke,” she said, her tone just slightly impatient. “But a man who doesn’t think I’m a vulture in high heels wants to spend time in my company, and to be honest, I could use a little of that.”

The guilt made him grumpy, so instead of apologizing he snapped back, “Thought your business in Montana was work related—recruiting me.”

“Yes, well. You don’t want to be recruited, now, do you?” she said pleasantly.

He blinked. “Well, no, but…”

“I told my boss I thought you were a long shot, and she agrees with my assessment.”

Luke felt relief mingling with…something else. “So you’re going back to New York.”

“Soon,” she said. “The network’s not quite ready to give up on your story.”

“But you just said—”

“Luke,” she interrupted. “Have you ever seen The Bachelor?”

“Sure, yeah. All the guys and I have viewing parties down at the station.”

The sarcasm earned him a bland look before she continued speaking. “So, The Bachelor features a hot single guy, and a bunch of women try to win his heart, right?”

He nodded reluctantly.

“Well, The Bachelorette is a very successful spin-off. It features one of the women that the previous bachelor rejected and gives her a chance to find a better guy.”

“So? What does that—”

It clicked into place at the exact same time as Stacey and Isobel started making their way toward the kissing booth.

“Perfect timing,” Jordan said sweetly. “Hey, girls!”

Luke’s ex and her best friend both hugged Jordan enthusiastically, and Stacey jokingly put two fingers against Jordan’s neck, as though checking for a pulse, before moving over and doing the same to Luke. “Izzie and I drew the short straw, agreed to come over here and make sure you were both still alive.”

“Hearts seem to be racing a bit fast, but no bloodshed, so that’s positive. How’s it been going?” Izzie asked.

“I’m winning,” Jordan announced, lifting her box and giving it a little shake. “No surprise there.”

“Only because you’re agreeing to go out on dates with the customers,” he snapped.

“Oh, you’re just jealous because nobody asked you on a date. I’m not surprised, though. It’s probably the scowl. Isobel, don’t you think it’s the scowl?”

The quiet redhead Luke had known his entire life leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm as she studied him. “To tell you the truth, I never did really understand Luke Elliott’s appeal.”

He gave her a ha-ha look and she winked.

“Wait, a date,” Stacey said, ever adoring of a bit of good gossip. “Do tell.”

“Oh, just some guy. We have the same name, and he was cute.”

“Well, shit. Must be true love,” Luke said.

Isobel snorted.

“Luke’s grumpy,” Stacey said in a loud whisper.

“He hasn’t been getting much in the way of kisses,” Jordan replied in an equally loud whisper.

Stacey clucked her tongue and reached into her purse to give a dollar to Luke’s box. “Sorry, Jordan. You’re a doll, but Luke and I go way back.”

“Seriously?” Isobel muttered as Stacey jammed a one through the opening. “We haven’t learned enough from that mistake?”

“Don’t fret,” Stacey said. “My days of making out with this handsome boy are over, but a quick kiss can’t hurt us.”

She beckoned him forward with a finger, and he leaned down obediently, accepting her sisterly peck on the cheek.

When he pulled back, he caught Jordan watching them with an assessing look on her face.

“Okay, we’re off to indulge in an elephant ear,” Isobel said. “You two be good.”

Stacey blew them both a kiss, but before Luke could tell Jordan to leave Stacey alone—to leave them all alone—he had another customer. A cute twenty-something who may or may not have slipped in just a tiny bit of tongue.

Luke felt Jordan’s hot stare but refused to glance her way.

For the next twenty minutes, they both had an increased stream of people, mostly playful cheek pecks, although there were a couple of drunken dudes who’d come up to Jordan. Luke had been ready to haul them away, but Jordan took easy care of them with a few tart words and scathing reprimands.

He gave her an admiring glance. “You handle yourself well.”

“I’m from New York,” she said by way of explanation.

He nodded, but though he knew the words were true, it didn’t feel like she was from the big city. She was far too at ease with the smell of fried food, the grubby hands of the children who occasionally darted behind and between the booths, running headlong into knees. She’d laughed along with everyone when someone’s pig went racing through the game area and even hummed along with a band doing mediocre Lady Antebellum covers.

The two hours were over quicker than Luke expected—quicker than he’d like, knowing that Man-Jordan would be showing up any second to claim his Ferris-wheel date.

Vicky came scuttling over, waving her clipboard. “Kids! I’m so sorry I’ve left you this whole time; there was a mix-up over at the dunk tank and, well…you survived, didn’t you?”

She looked the two of them over, as though searching for bruises—or hickeys.

“I had a great time,” Jordan said, as Vicky reached up and flipped the sign to CLOSED.

“Luke, did you?” Vicky asked.

He shrugged noncommittally. “I survived.”

“Can I talk you into doing the afternoon shift?” she asked.

“Hell no.”

Vicky sighed. “I didn’t think so. Guess it’ll have to be Travis. He’s always a bit too eager to participate, but he does bring in good money,” she said, picking up Luke’s box and lifting it as though trying to gauge the weight of the paper money.

“I think City here probably beat me,” Luke said, nodding his chin toward Jordan.

Except she wasn’t there.

Luke’s eyes scanned the crowd, saw bright blond hair, those sexy-as-sin legs walking away with City Boy.

Even he could admit they seemed to fit together, all easy sophistication and perfect good looks.

Luke was suddenly aware that his boots were scuffed, his jeans on the faded side of tired. The shirt was one of his few that weren’t T-shirts or flannel, but it sure as hell didn’t have cuff links.

“You could if you wanted to, you know,” Vicky said, not looking up from her clipboard.

“Could what?” he dragged his gaze away from the Jordans.

“Compete. If you put in a little effort, that pretty boy wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Luke didn’t insult his mother’s best friend by playing dumb about who she was talking about, but he wasn’t about to feed into her delusions. “Not interested.”

“Don’t you find it curious she hasn’t headed back to the city, even though you’ve told her you won’t do the show?”

“No.”

“Well, then, what’s she still doing here?”

She’s realized she can’t sell me out, so she’s after my exes.

But that answer didn’t feel right, even though he’d heard the words from Jordan herself.

“Maybe if you all would quit rolling out the welcome mat everywhere she goes, she’d get the hint,” Luke said.

“Don’t be testy with me,” Vicky said, turning toward the Jordans, but they’d already disappeared into the crowd. “It’s hardly my fault you didn’t get the hint of what I was trying to do here.”

“Meaning?”

She turned back, gestured between the two booths. “You need to kiss the girl, Luke. The entire town knows it.”

He ground his teeth to keep from telling Vicky that he had kissed the girl.

Thoroughly.

Wanted to do it again.

Badly.