Kiss and Confess (Love Unscripted Book 1) Read online

  “Sounds good.” Brittany’s head bobbed up and down.

  “Let’s start from the beginning. Who are you?”

  “I’m Brittany Smith. I live on Bainbridge Island, outside of Seattle, and I’m a part-time personal trainer, part-time nanny. I run, ski, hike, and ride horses. Pretty much anything that has to do with the outdoors.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “I’ve been in a couple of serious relationships, plus some not-so-serious ones, but I’ve never found someone who really gets me. You know what I mean?”

  Tasha murmured a noncommittal answer and Brittany rolled on.

  “I have a lot to offer. I take care of myself, am a vegetarian, work out all the time, don’t drink alcohol.” She paused. “Or not much, anyway. You know, the whole healthy mind, healthy body thing. I mean, I’m even careful to eat Bogo-free vegetables.”

  That one caught Tasha by surprise. “Bogo-free?”

  “I know, right? I didn’t even know Bogo was a thing, but it must be. Last week, the store had bags of potatoes or broccoli…maybe it was cauliflower…with a sign that said it was Bogo-free. I figure it must be a pesticide. Something new to worry about, like we need anything else. But I was sure to buy those. You can’t be too careful.”

  Shit. Luke couldn’t believe this woman was for real. Was she serious? Bogo-free?

  Understanding dawned on Tasha’s face. “Bogo.”

  “Right. Free of bogo. Whatever that is.”

  “Actually, I think that means Buy One, Get One.”

  Brittany’s chin dropped. “Are you kidding me?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.” Brittany’s cheeks pinked. “I was sure it meant it was free of something bad. Um, don’t use that part, okay?”

  “Go ahead and tell us more about why you’re here.”

  As Brittany continued to talk, Luke caught sight of movement by the door. He looked closer. Charley. He closed his eyes and willed the blood rushing through his veins to slow, his heartbeat to return to something that came close to normal. When he opened his eyes again, it was to see her walking toward him.

  It didn’t help that she looked much the same as she had twelve years ago. Her straight dark blonde hair still brushed her shoulders and her turned-up nose softened dark eyebrows and high cheekbones. She’d never liked her lips; she’d said they were too thin. Luke disagreed. He thought they formed a perfect sort of an almost-heart. Not too big, not too small. Just right.

  He tried to pretend he was busy looking at his clipboard, but from the corner of his eye, he watched her, all legs and lithe movement; her eyes were on the floor as she picked her way through the cables and equipment. She wore a white suit that hugged her curves in all the right places. Curves he’d known and loved.

  How was she still single? He couldn’t figure that one out. There should be some guy in her life willing to do anything to be by her side. Instead, she was on a reality TV show to find love. Which, in ninety-nine percent of cases, wasn’t love at all.

  Charley came closer as Brittany rattled on. Luke frowned in concentration, trying to make it appear as though he was listening to what Brittany had to say.

  “Hi,” came Charley’s soft voice.

  “Hi.” He didn’t look at her, didn’t dare. She wasn’t touching him, but he could swear he felt the heat from her body.

  “How are things going?”

  “Good. We’ve already filmed the experts. Now it’s the contestants.”

  “I know. I’m next.”

  From his other side, Jen stretched an arm toward Charley. “Hello,” she said in a whisper. “I’m Jen, one of the producers. With this guy.” She jerked her thumb toward him.

  Charley took her hand and shook it. “Charley. One of the contestants.”

  “Oh, right,” Jen said with a little too much meaning. “Charley. You two know each other from before.”

  “Yes, well, sort of.” She looked up at him uncertainly, while he made sure to keep his own expression blank. “From college.”

  “Really. And what was Luke like in college?”

  Before Charley could answer, Luke jumped in. “She’s done. Your turn.” He pointed at Brittany, who had left the chair and was bounce-walking toward the door.

  “Nice to meet you, Jen.” Charley moved to stand in front of Luke. “Are you going to watch my interview? Give me some tips?”

  The answer was clearly yes. He had been assigned as the producer for her and the asshole she’d be matched up with.

  But right now, just in this minute, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t watch her talking, being the Charley he’d once loved, bringing him straight back to college and all of those things he’d never wanted to feel. He had to pull himself together. Fast. Put the past behind him and be able to look at her like any other contestant on this damn show.

  If he couldn’t do that—he shouldn’t be here.

  He stared at his clipboard. “I’d planned on it, but it turns out I have to be somewhere else right now.”

  “I can help, Luke. Do whatever you need so you can stay here,” Jen offered. Steel ran through her voice. “You told me you would, remember?”

  “Thanks,” Luke said to Jen. “But I really have to do—this.” If he didn’t get out of this room, he was going to explode.

  “Okay,” Charley said. “Maybe we can catch up a little later.”

  “Maybe,” he mumbled.

  Tasha walked up. “You must be Charley.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Luke’s Charley,” Jen supplied.

  He narrowed his eyes at Jen. “I’m her producer.”

  “Ohhhh,” Tasha said, drawing out the one syllable. “I’m Tasha. Nice to meet you, Charley.” She threw Luke a look he didn’t want to read.

  “Come with me, sweetie.” Tasha took Charley’s arm and began steering her toward the interview chair. “You’re going to tell us a little about yourself, something to make the people at home want to root for you.”

  Luke shoved his clipboard under his arm, flinching as the wooden edge rammed his flesh. He personally wasn’t rooting for Charley to find love, though he owed her at least that much.

  Charley had begun talking to the camera, but he was having trouble hearing her over the guilt buzzing in his head. Who knew guilt had a fucking sound?

  He got the hell out of the room before Jen could catch him.

  Charley hung around the room Jen called the Kiss and Confess until the contestant after her had finished his interview. Jason Wallace, a tall and solidly muscled bear of a man, had kindness streaming off him in waves. She hoped they’d matched him with someone equally as nice.

  Jason, a college football player turned high school coach and English teacher who volunteered with the Special Olympics, had his heart broken by the person he’d thought of as The One. Since then, he told the camera sadly, he’d become convinced he would never find someone who would love an ex-jock who spent his spare time perusing the library’s collection of rare books, reading poetry, and watching old movies.

  Charley disagreed. America would love him.

  Once Jason had finished his interview, the three of them had been booted from the room, since the next three would be the other halves of their couple pairings and they weren’t supposed to know yet who that might be.

  She’d walked outside to get some air and sun on her face, careful to stay within the boundaries she’d been given, to avoid running into her match before the big meeting at dinner tomorrow.

  The rays’ warmth felt good, a gentle kiss from a sun she didn’t often see in Seattle. Glancing around, she thought the estate was huge. Colorful flowers bloomed in carefully tended beds, and large trees across expanses of lawn provided shade. Under one of these trees, Charley spotted a wrought-iron bench.

  On the far end of that bench, sitting with his head down and his hands clasped between his knees, was Luke. His clipboard lay at an awkward angle on the grass in front of him, either dropped or thrown.

  He did
n’t seem to have heard her approach, which meant she had a choice to make. Move forward or go back as quietly as she had arrived.

  She chose to stay in place, watching as he buried his long fingers into his dark unruly hair, pressing hard against his scalp. She didn’t have to see his face to know that his eyes were shut tight against the world, his forehead creasing as he tried to solve whatever dilemma had him out here on a bench. Alone.

  She wondered whether that dilemma had to do with her. She wondered whether he still thought much about her at all.

  That lean body—elbows now digging into his knees—was still familiar after twelve long years. The way he carried himself, interacted with others. He’d always had an easy, masculine stride and presence that allowed him to move through a room as the most confident person in it. She’d envied that, wanted nothing more than to be a part of his orbit.

  They’d been good together, happy together. Ready to take on the world together. Until he’d left her without an explanation. Without an apology. Without a single word. For someone or something else? She could only guess.

  And she’d come up with every guess she could possibly imagine, none of them good.

  She hadn’t ever Googled his name—had made a deliberate choice not to. It had been easier to deal with her imagined possibilities than to know the truth.

  Now he was right here, a few yards from her, and she could finally get an answer. A swirl of doubt, relief, anger, dread, and happiness began inside her stomach and spiraled upward, delivering knockout punches as it traveled.

  Her brain sent a signal to her legs to move, but her legs ignored it, staying rooted in place.

  She must have made some kind of sound or he felt her presence, because suddenly he turned, his dark eyes startled, and let his hands fall to the seat of the bench. “Charley. I didn’t see you.”

  They watched each other warily for a moment then Luke moved to one side of the bench and indicated the space next to him. “Would you like to sit down?”

  “I don’t know.” Her legs, being independent thinkers apparently, began moving. Toward Luke. And the bench.

  She sat, inhaling the nearness of him. Evergreen soap and Good & Plenty candy. The mixed scents triggered a series of flashbacks in her mind—Charley and Luke dancing together in the fraternity house, pressed as close as they could possibly be and moving slowly as one, though the song was a fast one; laughing until their stomachs hurt while gripping hot lattes on a cold day; making tender, passionate love in his bed under a striped comforter. Blue and white stripes.

  She shook her head to block the memories, to send them back into the lending library part of her brain where their covers had grown dusty.

  “What are you doing out here?” She stared at the ground, not trusting herself to look him in the eyes again, afraid of what he’d see there.

  “Thinking.”

  She scuffed at a piece of dirt cluttering the otherwise pristine grass, waiting for him to say more.

  He didn’t for several minutes. Her pulse had finally begun to beat normally when he said, “Okay. Real apology this time.”

  “I’m listening.” With every part of her being.

  “I’m sorry for leaving without telling you. For not getting in touch after.” He crossed his leg to put his ankle on his knee and rested his forearms on his leg, bending forward. “I was an ass. You know that. I know that.”

  “Tell me what happened. That’s the only way this is a real apology.”

  He shook his head. “It’s been too long, too much has happened. Doesn’t matter now.”

  “It matters to me.” Her breath caught. She swallowed hard and went on. “So if you can’t give me that much, you’re not only an ass, you’re a fucking coward.” The words bounced off the stones, rang in the silence, and hung between them.

  He held her gaze for a moment then broke it to stare at the house. When his eyes returned to meet hers, there was a flash of raw emotion that wrenched at her. The virtual bodyguards surrounding her heart each took a knee and aimed their weapons. Nothing leaves, nothing gets in.

  She couldn’t trust herself to speak without tears. So she didn’t. Instead, she looked out across the vast lawn, at the winding stone path that didn’t look as though anyone ever walked on it. Someone had taken a lot of time to carefully lay the pattern. Stay back, she warned the tears.

  “I was failing my classes,” he said.

  “No.” He was smart, confident. They had studied together. Or meant to, anyway. Before it always turned into something else.

  “Yes.”

  “But you never said anything. I could have helped.”

  “I had my pride.” He gave her a half-smile she didn’t buy.

  “And the athletic department had tutors.”

  “Yeah, wasn’t into that. Didn’t want people to know.”

  “They wouldn’t have known when you flunked out of school?”

  He flinched. “Never said I thought things through.”

  “What about your scholarship?”

  He hesitated. “I was going to lose it.”

  She drew back. “No. Luke, that’s huge, that’s—”

  “Yeah.”

  Luke had loved playing on the basketball team, was close friends with his teammates, had been talented enough to earn a full scholarship. Losing all that—she couldn’t even imagine how much he’d been hurting. And she’d thought they kept nothing from each other.

  She’d been wrong. That hurt. A punch to the stomach kind of hurt. “How could you not tell me?”

  “Would have ruined everything.”

  “And your leaving didn’t?” Her voice broke. She felt as though she were in a snow globe with someone shaking the contents, making it hard to keep her balance, to see clearly. She needed to know that it hadn’t all been a lie back then. That what she’d felt hadn’t been one-sided, delusional.

  He looked away.

  She got up and stepped in front of him, put her hand under his chin and lifted, forcing him to look at her. The touch of his skin on hers left her fingers trembling.

  In his eyes, she saw the tenderhearted Luke she’d once known, now filled with regret. The virtual bodyguards around her heart looked at each other and slowly, tentatively lowered their guns. Aww…Luke.

  Too soon. A shadow crossed his face. He straightened, pulling away from her hand. “That was the past. I’m not that guy anymore.”

  He’d slammed a door in her face. Her hand hovered in the air. She let it drop. “Not that guy,” she repeated.

  “Don’t you get it? I was young. I screwed up. I said I’m sorry and this is where it ends. We’re at different places in our lives now. I’m a producer. You’re a contestant.”

  “So I understand.” No. She didn’t. All she’d done was sign up for a reality show. She did not sign up to have her past slap her in the face and pry open wounds that had barely healed over.

  “We’re good now. Nothing else to say.”

  If he could slam the door, so could she. “Sure. We’re good. Hella good. As far as I’m concerned, I never met you before yesterday.” She whirled on her heel and headed back to the house, not looking back.

  The Luke she’d known was gone. Dead and buried. Flowers on his grave.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Make Me a Match

  Episode Two

  Rooftops and Rocky Starts

  By the time Charley reached the side door of the house, she felt as though she’d run an emotional marathon and been left panting by the side of the road.

  She put her sweaty palm to the handle and wrenched it open, nearly stumbling into Tasha, who was pulling it open from the other side.

  The producer didn’t mince words. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Charley veered right; she had to get to her room, take a shower, and let the pounding water drown out all she didn’t want to think about.

  Tasha’s arm shot out, blocking Charley’s way. “Is this about Luke?”

  “No,” Char
ley lied, head down. She felt her cheeks flush. If there were one superpower she wished she had, it would be the ability to lie.

  “Uh-huh.” Tasha dropped her arm. “I’m not an idiot. I saw how you looked at each other in the Kiss and Confess. This can’t happen. You’ve got to let go of him.”

  Let go of him. He wasn’t hers to hold on to or let go. He never had been.

  “There’s a great guy here, waiting to meet you. Don’t fuck that up because of a guy you had a crush on years ago.”

  A crush. Ha. But Tasha was right. Charley was going to meet a new man, a better man; the perfect match for her. Experts said so. To hell with Luke. She raised her eyes and drew her shoulders back, even though they shook. “You’re right.”

  The producer searched her face. “Oh shit.”

  Charley blinked, cursing the dampness on her lashes.

  “He wasn’t just a crush. Damn him, anyway. Why didn’t he say something earlier?”

  “It’s fine.” Now she was protecting him, as if he deserved it. “I’m fine.”

  “Fine,” Tasha repeated, shaking her head. “Yeah, right. Let me guess. He was your Stevie-Nicks-and-Cigarettes.”

  Charley bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.

  Tasha’s gaze bored into her.

  Charley closed her eyes for a second, shook her head. “More like Beyoncé-and-Bacardi.”

  “Same thing.” The other woman sighed. “We’ve all been there. Some of us more than others. Can you get through this or do we need to find someone else?”

  Charley lifted her chin. “I can get through it.” Tasha was right. Charley wasn’t the only woman who’d ever experienced betrayal at the hands of a man. And she deserved to meet the one who had been chosen for her. Her perfect match.

  “I’ll see if I can get Luke changed to a different couple. But for now, we’re going to have to go with things the way they are.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got this.”

  “Good.” Tasha’s voice turned brisk, all business again. “Go get ready. Tonight, you’ll meet your future husband for the first time.”