Judy Hubbard - Our First Kiss

Chapter 2

Though he tried to prepare himself for his next meeting with Marcy, she still knocked every ounce of breath out of his lungs when their eyes locked at the rehearsal dinner for Natasha and Damien later that evening. She was dressed in a black knee-length leather skirt with a wicked slit up the back, matching tight-fitting jacket and high-heeled black leather pumps. All of that raven hair was piled high on top of her head in an intentionally careless bun, allowing tendrils to escape to caress her face and nape. She looked lovely and desirable.

“Hi, handsome,” her sultry voice greeted him as he entered the small ballroom of the restaurant.

“Marcy.” He nodded at her politely as he unsuccessfully tried to still the rapid beating of his heart.

“Did you miss me?” He looked wonderful in his black suit, white shirt and black-and-gray tie.

“It’s only been a few hours since I last saw you?” Time he had spent trying to unsuccessfully stop thinking about her—the look of her, the feel of her fingers on his, the exotic smell of her.

“I know.” She leaned close and whispered confidentially in his ear, “I missed you terribly.”

His knees almost buckled at her words and as the provocative scent she wore wafted up his nostrils and her soft body brushed lightly yet maddeningly against his. He fought with every ounce of strength he possessed to keep from crushing that curvaceous body to his and fastening his mouth to her luscious lips—lips he knew from experience were soft, decadent and addictive.

Unable to help himself, he groaned. “What is that perfume you’re wearing?”

She leaned slightly back to stare into his intense eyes. “Chanel.” She smiled and leaned in closer again. “Do you like it?”

“It’s...nice.”

“I’m glad you approve.” She deliberately ran her fingers across her exposed collarbone drawing his burning gaze there.

Who did he think he was fooling? Judging by his darkening eyes, watching the slow progression of her finger across her skin, he thought it was much more than nice. She secretly vowed to buy up every bottle she could get her hands on in the morning.

“Marcy, darling, bring Nathan over here,” her mother ordered.

“Coming, Mom.” She smiled up at him. “I’m afraid it’s time to mingle.”

She thankfully moved back from him but grabbed his hand, shooting tiny thrills of pleasure up his arm. This woman was deadlier than any adversary he had ever faced in the field of combat—and that was saying something.

“That’s what we’re here for.” He was proud his voice sounded steady.

“But there is later...” She let her sentence trail off suggestively.

They walked over to stand beside his sister Nicole, who was talking to the guests of honor, Damien and Natasha. Nathan’s parents, Linda and Lincoln, were conversing with Marcy’s mother and father, Margaret and Michael, a short distance away. Marcy’s smile widened as she glanced at their matchmaking mothers who seemed particularly interested in watching the interplay between her and Nathan; it appeared they were their next project.

“I’m starving. What’s for dinner, Mama?” Natasha asked.

“Seafood, all different kinds.” Linda smiled at her daughter.

“Mmm, I can’t wait,” Natasha said as her eyes sparkled expectantly.

“This one has really been developing an appetite lately.” Damien wrapped his arms around his fiancée’s waist from behind.

“Love makes me hungry.” She smiled as he kissed her neck lingeringly.

“When Nathan and I were shopping today, we had some wonderful seafood at lunch—well, he did. I managed to steal a bite or two off of his plate.” Marcy’s statement caused all eyes to focus on her and Nathan.

“You and Nathan went shopping?” Nicole’s mouth dropped open as did her sister’s and mother’s.

“Yes, for Natasha and Dami’s wedding present,” Marcy confirmed.

“And she dragged me from store to store when she already had their present picked out at the last store we went to,” Nathan good-naturedly interjected.

“Don’t you just hate shopping with women?” Damien sympathized, kissing Natasha on the cheek to soften his words.

“Oh, you!” Natasha tapped his chest lightly in admonishment.

“They never know what they want,” Lincoln agreed as the men levitated toward each other.

“And they drag you around from store to store for hours and hours and then finally decide on something they saw at the first store you were in,” Michael chimed in.

“I don’t know why we don’t leave you at home. You’re always fretting about how much money we spend.” Linda added her thoughts as the women, except for Natasha and Marcy, congregated together glaring at their respective man.

“Aren’t they just?” Margaret agreed, smiling tolerantly at her husband, Michael. “But if the present is for them, no amount of time is too great and the sky is the limit on how much we spend.”

“Amen,” Nicole agreed, and Natasha shook her head.

“Boy, did I open a can of worms,” Marcy whispered to Nathan, whom she noted still stood by her side.

“Are you kidding?” Nathan chuckled. “They’re having a blast.”

Marcy glanced at everyone as they engaged in heated, though pleasant, banter about the subject and laughed in agreement. They were thankfully saved from further escalation of the tiny gender war brewing when dinner was wheeled in. As everyone took their seats at the rectangular table, Marcy was dismayed to find herself sitting by her brother a table’s length away from Nathan. Who had made these ridiculous seating arrangements?

Nicole, who was sitting by her brother, glanced at Marcy’s sunken expression and sprang into action, “Look at us—Johnsons at one end and Carters at the other. We need to break this up.”

“You’re right, Nicole,” Marcy agreed, trying not to burst into a radiant smile.

“Marcy, you take my seat by Nathan, and I’ll take yours by Damien.”

Marcy quickly stood and gave Nicole a wink as they passed each other. Nicole mouthed, “Don’t mention it.”

Once she was seated, Nicole continued to rearrange people. “Momma, you should sit by Mr. Johnson down here. Mrs. Johnson, why don’t you go up and sit by Dad.”

Nicole received tolerant smiles as people followed her directions. Her mother’s eyes held understanding and approval at her youngest daughter’s actions. Nicole continued to survey the table with a slight determined frown.

“Now, that’s better. Isn’t it?” Nicole asked and was pleased when everyone agreed—except a frowning Nathan she noted with a smile.

“I am glad you didn’t move me to the opposite end away from my fiancé.” Natasha laughed at her sister.

“Please, I would need an army to do that,” Nicole said and chuckled.

“You’re so right.” Damien pulled Natasha closer and kissed her lips.

“Save some of that for the honeymoon,” Michael suggested with a laugh.

“Oh, I think we’ll manage just fine.” Damien had Natasha’s cheeks reddening,

“Damien!” Natasha scolded and he laughingly kissed her again.

“She doesn’t know what to do with me,” he informed everyone when he lifted his head.

“We Johnsons can be incorrigible,” Marcy replied, staring at Nathan, who refused to glance her way.

“A trait you both inherited from your father,” Margaret assured, and the occupants of the room dissolved in laughter again.

“Are you planning on ignoring me all night, Nathan?” As the happy banter around the table continued, Marcy turned amused eyes to his annoyed ones.

“I was debating it,” he tightly replied.

“I had nothing to do with rearranging everyone. That was your sister’s idea,” she reminded.