One Little Kiss (Christian Romance) Read online

  "Sorry I'm late," he said. She let out a squeal and the book dropped from her lap to the ground. He suppressed his grin, guessing it would infuriate her more, and retrieved the huge anatomy book. "I recognize this," he said, handing it back to her.

  She took it from him and set it on the bench next to her. "This book is the bane of my existence."

  "You're pre-med, right?"

  "Yeah." She reached into her bag and pulled out two folders labeled ROAD SHOW. She handed one to Henry and kept one for herself. He opened his and saw she'd detailed the dates of auditions plus all the major rehearsals and the date and time of the actual performance. He flipped through the pages, impressed.

  "Auditions?" he asked after reading through the protocol for auditions. "Do you think we'll have that many people sign up?"

  She shrugged. "I don't know. But we need to at least have a meeting with everyone who wants to be in the road show so we can figure out how many characters we need to write in."

  "Do we have a play?" He thumbed through the papers and tried to find a script, but there wasn't one. When she didn't answer, he glanced up and caught her studying his clothes. "What?"

  "I just... nothing." She paused, but then spoke again like she couldn't help it. "Are you color blind, by any chance?"

  He wanted to laugh so hard it hurt. Instead he made sure to school his expression into a serious one. "No. Why?"

  "I guess I don't understand your style."

  He looked down at himself. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

  She opened her mouth like she was going to say something, and a little noise escaped out the back of her throat. "They're interesting."

  "Interesting. What an ambiguous word." He'd used it himself just a few days before with the bishop describing the singles ward, and hadn't meant it in a good way. He didn't know why he kept pressing her, but something about the way she squirmed amused him.

  "Most people wouldn't put blue and gray plaid shorts together with a maroon striped shirt." She opened her folder and gave it her full attention, although he bet she had it memorized.

  Henry leaned close to her and tipped the edge of her folder down until she glanced up at him. "I am not most people."

  At this, she smiled in a sardonic way. "Yeah. I figured that out about five minutes after meeting you.

  "It took five whole minutes? I must be losing my touch."

  "Next time, lead with the bug eating. Have one in your pocket and walk into people's houses munching on it."

  He leaned against the seat and rubbed his chin. "But then I lose that element of surprise when I pluck it right off the wall. The look on people's faces... I don't think I could give it up."

  To his surprise, she laughed and smacked him across the chest with one of her folders. "You did it to get a reaction out of us? We thought you were so weird!"

  He rubbed his chest even though it hadn't really hurt. "I'll let you in on a little secret, as long as you don't tell anyone, okay?"

  She nodded. "Okay, yeah. I promise."

  He put his arm around the back of the bench, knowing he was playing with fire, but not really caring. She leaned toward him probably without even realizing it. He whispered, "I am weird."

  She straightened, her eyes sparking with mirth. "Ha ha." She tapped the folder in his lap with her slender fingers. "Okay, weirdo, let's use that strange mind of yours for good. Have you thought of any ideas you'd like to see in the road show?”

  He hadn't thought twice about it, unless he counted all the times he pictured Tessa in the red dress she'd been wearing at church, or the way her hair brushed her collarbone every time she laughed, both things he didn’t want to notice. He folded his arms and leaned away from her. He needed to talk about scorpions or centipedes, or maybe eat an ant, but his nervousness stopped him. "What are your ideas?"

  She reached into her backpack to pull out another folder, this one labeled, THE FROG PRINCE. "What if we did a fairy tale retelling? I know this isn't a super popular fairy tale, but I think we could make it a lot of fun. We could modernize it and write lyrics to the tunes of primary songs. One of us will have to tackle choreography, something simple but fun to add movement on stage. Layla and Addison offered to help paint the back drop once we decide on a setting." The more she spoke, the more enthusiastic she grew, until her face lit up and all the stress lines melted away for the first time since he met her. “What do you think?”

  The more Tessa talked, the more excited she became. Henry crossed his ankle onto his knee and gave her an appraising glance. "You really love this."

  "I do. But if you don't like it, we can totally come up with something else."

  "No. I mean you love this." He indicated the folders. "Coming up with all this stuff. Directing."

  Her fingers paused in their fidgeting with the corner of the book. "A little. It's nice to think of something fun after hours of studying."

  "I don't know if I'd call this fun, but I want to help. So what do you need me to do?"

  "I want you to help me write the script."

  He chuckled. "Yeah, I'm not the guy for that."

  "Yes, you are, Henry. You inspired this idea."

  "How?"

  "Isn't it obvious?" She stared at him knowingly. "Frogs. Bugs. This should be right up your alley."

  He dropped his foot to the ground and turned toward her fully. "A frog is an amphibian. And herpetology, the study of amphibians, is completely different than entomology, which is what I do."

  She let out a frustrated hug. “Clearly, frogs aren’t insects, but little creatures are little creatures.”

  “I guess.” But even he knew he didn’t sound sure of himself at all.

  “So you're saying you know nothing about frogs?"

  "Do I have to know anything about frogs to help write this play?"

  "You hate the idea."

  What? "How did we get from me not knowing a lot about frogs to hating the idea?" He ran a hand over his mouth. "I think it's a fun idea. In fact, we should call it The Anura Prince."

  "What’s an Anura?"

  "It's the scientific name for frog."

  "Well." She leaned over to put the folders in the backpack instead of meeting his eyes. "Let's not worry about titles right now."

  "It's a brilliant title."

  "Hmmm." Her phone beeped and she pulled it out to check it. “Oh, no. It can’t be six.”

  Henry glanced at the watch on his wrist. "Six-oh-two, actually."

  "We've been here for thirty minutes?" She zipped up her backpack and stood. “My lab started two minutes ago. Work on a few ideas, okay? I'll call you."

  Henry waved, and she rushed off to her class. He grabbed his backpack and followed behind her rushing steps. They were headed in the same direction, but he didn’t mind taking things a little slow to think over their meeting. Tessa seemed like the kind of person who never forgot anything and loved things to remain in their correct place, whereas he always seemed to forget things, and the correct place was wherever he found space to put it.

  She slowed down in front of the preschool on the teaching campus and paused at the fence. A longing expression crossed her face while she watched the little children play. He almost caught up with her, but held back, sensing that she wouldn’t appreciate his intrusion. She stayed there only a moment before rushing away, out of his sight.

  Chapter 7

  Tessa checked her hair in the mirror for the millionth time. She'd used Layla’s new curling iron and her long brown hair bounced with perfect curls. She wore dark skinny jeans and flowy pink blouse. The tiny bit of toe peeping out of the front of her heels showed off the opalescent pink polish she'd applied.

  Layla's head popped over Tessa's shoulder in the bathroom mirror. "You look fantastic."

  "You're just saying that because you need to go to the bathroom." Tessa tucked her hair behind her ear then pulled it back out, letting it drape over her forehead.

  "You've been in here for over an hour. And I drank a thirty-six
ounce soda during my last class to keep me awake. But that doesn't make you any less gorgeous." She pushed Tessa toward the door. For such a small woman, she had surprising arm strength.

  "Why didn't we get an apartment with more than one bathroom, again?" Tessa stopped in the doorway, watching Layla dance.

  "Because some of us are too proud to let our parents put us up in fancy digs."

  "Being independent builds character."

  "I'm sorry, what? I can’t hear you over my moaning bladder.”

  The door shut in Tessa's face and she laughed. A knock sounded on the front door, cutting her laugh off as quickly as it started. This was it. The moment that would begin all moments from here on out. The beginning of the rest of her life with Logan. The story they would tell their kids after they got married, of their first date, and how they fell in love in one night, but even then, they didn't know what love really meant until years together.

  "Hey, Tessa!" Addison popped her head out of her room, her eyebrow raised. "Want me to get the door for you?"

  Tessa pulled her mind back to the present and attempted to focus on the now and not the future. "No. I've got it."

  She opened the door and had to force herself not to gawk. Tessa didn't know how it was possible, but Logan was even hotter than the last time she saw him. He had damp hair and wore distressed jeans with a forest green polo shirt.

  "Ready?" he asked. "I'm thinking dinner first, and then a movie, if you're game."

  "Sounds great." She followed him outside and got into a small, sporty car with smooth leather seats. She buckled herself in and closed her eyes for a moment.

  “Nice, isn’t it? My one major splurge since graduating—and the reason I have to have a roommate.”

  She grinned while Logan put on his sunglasses and turned on the car. Talk radio came on over the speakers and they listened to it while they flew down the street, wind from a beautiful night breezing through their half-opened windows. They arrived at an upscale Italian place near the university and were seated within minutes. The waitress brought them a basket of breadsticks and took their order.

  Logan devoured his first bread stick before diving into the next. Her mouth watered at the delicious garlicy scent, but breadsticks were completely out of her diet plan. Plus she didn’t want to smell like garlic the rest of the night. Not when this was going to be the perfect first date. And sometimes the perfect first date ended in the perfect first kiss. Which did not include garlic breath. On her part at least.

  "So you've been working at the hospital for the last three days?" Tessa asked after taking a sip of ice water.

  "Yeah," he said between bites. "My anesthesiology residency demands most of my time."

  "My dad's a surgeon over at the university hospital," Tessa said.

  "I didn't know your dad was a doctor. What's his specialty?" Logan put the bread stick down to gulp his water. Tessa watched his Adam's apple bob beneath his collar and wanted to run her finger along it.

  "General pediatric surgery. It's what I want to go into as well," she added, feeling like she was convincing both him and herself when she said it. She'd grown up hearing her dad’s amazing stories, and she loved the idea of working with kids in any way she could, but not every surgery had a happy ending. Those were the ones she couldn’t bear thinking about without her stomach churning.

  She took a sip of water to calm her stomach. If thinking about a hurt child could make her feel woozy, then actually doing surgery on one seemed impossible. But she tried not to think about that more than she absolutely had to. Ignoring her problems had always been her specialty.

  She took another unsatisfying drink of water. “How’d you get interested in anesthesiology?”

  Logan dove into an explanation that started when he suffered a compound fracture at eight years old when he fell out of his friend's tree house. She breathed a sigh of relief, glad the topic had diverted away from her future. Logan’s childhood stories led into him graduating at the top of his class in high school, college, and med school. The waitress delivered their food, and he continued to speak between bites. Her grilled chicken and mixed veggies were delicious, and mostly eaten, while he still had at least half a plate of food. Her meal had been one of the low calorie options, meaning she could probably afford to eat one bite of breadstick.

  “Which led to three different women proposing to me in three years,” he said, concluding his story.

  She tore her gaze away from the bread. “Wait. Three women have proposed to you?" She tried to imagine having enough confidence to ask Logan—anyone—to marry her.

  He sliced his steak and rolled it in his Alfredo sauce, but paused before his fork hit his mouth. "More like two and a half."

  Tessa laughed at the mental picture that made. "Explain half a person."

  "It was the daughter of one of the women I was dating. She asked me to marry her mother."

  Which he clearly hadn't. Though she didn't know the details, she was still sad for this girl. "How old was she?"

  "Six," he said. His voice softened. "Her mom was great, but Dallas was only a pit stop."

  There had to be more to the story than things ending because of geography. "When was this?"

  "Right before I moved here. Want more water?" He flagged the waitress down, who saw right away since she'd been sending him longing, butterfly-flutter eyelash glances all night long. Not that Tessa could blame her. While he went off on his personal monologue, Tessa had just stared at him, in awe that he'd asked her out in the first place. It wasn’t like they'd hit it off or that her scheming had worked, but maybe he'd felt something with her like she'd felt with him, and words weren't necessary.

  Though he was using a lot of words tonight.

  "But I was telling you how I chose anesthesiology," he said, bringing them back to the question she’d forgotten had begun this whole conversation. "While I was in Dallas, I met a doctor who really inspired me, and he was an anesthesiologist. I guess interning with him got me fired up about medicine like I'd never been before. That's how I met Denise, actually. Her daughter came in with a broken arm, similar to mine from when I was about her age. She recognized me from stake conference, I guess." He glanced over Tessa’s shoulder, going quiet. Had he loved Denise? If so, one didn't fall out of love with someone in less than a month.

  “Do you miss her?” Tessa asked, softly.

  “We had fun, but I’m where I want to be.” He reached across the table, placing his hand over Tessa’s, sending her stomach whirling.

  “More bread?” the waitress asked.

  “No, thanks. We’ll take the check.” Logan’s subsequent wink turned the waitress’s cheeks bright pink.

  Tessa took a deep breath, held it, and let it go. He’d opened up a vulnerable side of himself to Tessa, which was worth more than an impersonal wink. The waitress cleared their plates and left.

  Gathering every bit of boldness in her, Tessa flipped her hand around and laced her fingers with his. “I’m glad you’re here, too.”

  He smiled in return, his eyes soft, and Tessa was glad she’d reached out to him. Too often she retreated into a shell of self-consciousness on her dates, which led to many stilted, awkward conversations. She didn’t want to do that this time, not when Logan was exactly what she was looking for. How many times would someone like this come along?

  Logan paid for their meal and they walked to the movie theater up the street. "Next time I should take you downtown,” Tessa said. “There's the coolest little theater there and a ton of unique restaurants, and on the weekends, the energy is amazing." She held her breath, waiting for his response.

  Logan linked his fingers with hers. "Sounds great."

  Tessa floated through the ticket line and all the way to her seat. Logan wanted to see a horror movie, something Tessa usually avoided thanks to her already vivid imagination. But it wasn’t so bad with Logan.

  After their date, he walked her upstairs to her apartment, her hand still folded in his. Her worries
about other women checking him out and lingering feelings he had for Denise flitted from her mind when he tugged her into his chest at the door. Those relationships weren't destined. Not like theirs.

  He lowered his face and waited, as if asking for permission, and Tessa’s lips met his. She didn’t usually kiss on the first date, but she wasn’t about to push Logan away. He tasted like garlic and mint, an unusual combination, but not necessarily bad. It had been over a year since Tessa had been kissed, and she hoped he couldn't tell. His arms went around her, up her back, and into her hair, holding her head close to his, his movements practiced. Like he was playing to an audience of one.

  Stop, Tessa. She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to be in the moment with him. She was kissing the most gorgeous guy she'd ever met—the first of a lifetime of kisses. She needed to remember this forever. The way his hand moved, how secure she felt in his embrace, even the scent of his cologne.

  After a moment he pulled back, his eyes half-closed, and pressed his forehead to hers. "I want to go out with you again."

  "Me, too," she said.

  He leaned in for another kiss but stopped when his pager sounded. He pulled it from his pocket. "It’s work. I've got to take this. We'll talk later."

  He raced down the steps and into the night, like a white knight going to the rescue of someone in need.

  Chapter 8

  Henry turned to another blank page in his notebook and tapped his pencil on it. He'd been brainstorming plot ideas for The Anura Prince since Logan left to pick up Tessa for their date, but didn't love anything so far. If he had it his way, he'd be down at the lab tonight, working on classifications, but his advisor, Kent, had told Henry he needed to get a life. And a haircut. Harsh words from a man who loved the lab as much as he did.

  The castle equals the temple, he wrote, but then crossed it out with a groan. Yeah, like they won't see that coming.