The Overdue Kiss

1. Chapter One

Chapter One

C harcoal smoke billows from my bookmobile’s hood as multiple warning symbols flicker on the dashboard. Clenching the wheel in a death grip, I navigate this monstrosity of a bus as close to the side of the mountain as possible without crashing into the jagged boulders.

At least I wasn’t coming from the other direction or I’d be teetering on the mountain’s ledge. And, goodness , it’s a long way down.

A Jeep lays on the horn and swerves around me. I’m taking up most of the lane on this snug road, but there’s nowhere else for me to park.

Before I can switch on my emergency flashers, the engine sputters off on its own like an old man wheezing his last breath. The dashboard blinks dark, and the pungent stench of burnt electronics fills the air.

I’m not a mechanic, but I could take an educated guess that the bus won’t be starting up again without some professional help... which I am nowhere near.

I grumble under my breath.

After my tune-up last week, my cousin Rafe promised me this hunk of junk could make it up the mountain’s incline like a high school track star. Silly me for believing him. It’s what I get for taking the cheap route and playing the family favor card so I could save the library some money.

Agh. Which reminds me that I’ll be required to inform my boss, Sally Anderson, about the breakdown. Not that she’ll be angry. I’m more worried she’ll scrap my bookmobile project if I go over my allotted budget. Ms. Anderson took a chance on my wild idea, which has been three years in the making and is the capstone for my master’s degree. The idea of a partnership between schools and their local libraries by providing them resources they normally wouldn’t have access to—especially the smaller towns nestled in the mountains.

In June, I was granted a trial run, and I drove my bookmobile to lower-income neighborhoods, bringing the library to their front door. Sort of like the ice cream truck, but with books.

It was a smashing success!

So much so, that two months later I’ve been approved to extend my project’s reach to Rocosa, one of Golden’s closer communities in desperate need of an updated public and school library. Even though the quaint town boasts picturesque mountain views, I’ve been dreading the visit. Because along with my outreach project, Ms. Anderson requested I investigate the potential closure of their underused library, which is currently gobbling up our precious funds.

While it’s a compliment that I’ve earned her trust to be chosen, it’s the opposite reason why I got into this profession. An Outreach Librarian is supposed to bring the resources to people who need them most... not take them away.

With a groan, I rub my temple, the faint tinge of a headache blooming.

No, I can’t do it. I refuse to allow another library to disappear if I can help it. There has to be another way—a loophole I can find. I’ll just have to figure it out before I leave Rocosa.

Until then, I’ll keep the possibility of the closure to myself.

The bus hisses and gurgles up another dark plume of smoke that matches my mood.

It’s fine , I remind myself. This will only put me behind schedule but isn’t the end of the world. My shaking fingers glide over the smooth surface of my cross necklace, the motion soothing as I realize how much worse it could have been. At least I’m in one piece up here and didn’t lose control of my brakes or something.

I pull out my cell and hit the contact for my cousin Marco, who owns a tow truck. At least, I think he does. If not, he would know a cousin who does. Perks of a big family—there is always someone who can help me.

My phone beeps and disconnects. I hit the button again with the same result. This can’t be happening. I slam my palm on the wheel as the No Signal symbol mocks me.

It’s fine , I repeat as I angrily unbuckle my seatbelt and let it whip back behind me. Venturing outside, I press close to the bus, squeezing between it and the rock face, shimmying through until I’m at the rear of the bus.

A car whips by, cruising at an obnoxious speed past me. Not a second later, another one zips around the blind curve and zooms by just as fast.

“?Ay, caray!” I shriek, molding myself to the bus’s rear bumper.

As the next one flies by, I frantically wave my arms, only to be disappointed when it leaves me coughing in its dust. It’s impossible to flag anyone down at these speeds.

Despite my zealous attempts, nobody stops, and the time between each passing vehicle gets longer and longer. The sun starts to set, painting orange and pink streaks in the sky. Normally I would lean back and marvel at God’s artistry, but it only increases my anxiety. In about thirty minutes, I’ll be stranded in the dark.

Thankfully, I had the forethought to move my emergency kit from the back of my car to the bookmobile. I strike the end of my flare with a little extra force, thinking of the ways I’ll make Rafe pay for this.

Deep rumbles from a motorcycle ricochet off the mountain, signaling someone’s approach. I don’t think but just leap into action, waving my flare like a maniac and screaming for the rider to stop.

A sleek black bike drives around the bend, hugging the tight curves of the road. For a moment, I’m worried he won’t stop, but his head snaps up, and the bike slows as he pulls up behind me.

I toss the flare on the ground, and relief floods through me. My heart thumps wildly in my chest, and I scrub a hand down my face.

He cuts off the engine and drops the kickstand.

As soon as there’s silence, I speak. “Oh my goodness, thank you for stopping. I didn’t want to be stranded in the pitch-dark.”

He lifts his visor, his wide eyes barely visible in the shadows of his helmet. “Is everything okay?”

“ No . My engine is smoking, and I’ve been stuck on this mountain for almost an hour.” Tears threaten to escape, and I forcibly swallow the lump in the back of my throat. Now is not the time to break down. “Are you a mechanic, by chance?”

He undoes his chin strap and removes his black helmet from his head, the dusky rays of the evening making his golden highlights appear more bronze in the light. He rakes a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “Sorry, but no. I do know someone who is. Did you call for a tow?”

“No signal,” I say, tucking my hands into my dress pockets to hide their trembling.

“How about I give you a lift and you can call someone at the next town over?”

“Yes, please! I’d appreciate it.” My thoughts start to scramble as the shock of the situation sinks in. What if this man had never stopped? What if I had been stuck here all night? Would I have been forced to walk to town in the dark? Temperatures drop quickly on the mountain, and I am ill-prepared in my summer dress and flats. I let out a long, shaky breath, hoping to gather my composure.

“Just breathe,” he says, climbing off the bike in one swift movement. He is at my side before my next breath. “It’s okay—you’re okay.”

His deep voice is calming, and I cling to the sound.

“I guess I’m just realizing how much danger I was truly in. I was so focused on getting someone to finally stop that I hadn’t really thought of what would happen if nobody did.”

He places a warm hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Well, I did, and I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re safe.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice wobbling. Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and I turn away at the sudden urge to hug this stranger. Slumping against the bus, I draw in a ragged breath. “I just need... a minute.”

“Take as much time as you need.”

The man casually leans back against the bumper beside me, waiting like he has all the time in the world. The silence isn’t awkward, almost like he prefers quiet moments. It only takes a few minutes to gather myself before I realize I haven’t even introduced myself yet.

“What’s your name?” I ask, tilting my head toward him and admiring his striking profile in the golden light.

“Desmond Brooks, but you can call me Des.” He waits a beat before asking, “You?”

“Maya Santos, um, no nickname.”

His smile widens at that. “It’s nice to meet you. Sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”

My romantic heart flip-flops at his charming smile, and I spring off the bumper to give us more distance. It has taken eight months for my broken heart to heal and for me to feel comfortable being single. That jolt of attraction better be a fluke because I’m not ready to put myself out there yet.

Desmond doesn’t notice me inching away from him. His attention is on an SUV swerving around us, barely missing his motorcycle. There’s no time to scream at the packed car of teenagers before they’re a mere dot in the distance.

“You couldn’t have broken down at a more dangerous curve.” Frowning, he shakes his head. “I barely saw you myself. The sunset is right behind you, blinding oncoming traffic.”

“I’ll try to plan my breakdown better for next time,” I say with a laugh. The corner of my mouth lifts, and the tightness in my chest unravels little by little.

“Good. Safety first.”

He smiles again, a soft smile, one that makes my heart beat a little faster, and I suck in a breath. Oh, no. I take a giant step backward at the telltale butterflies of attraction. Absolutely not. Hot biker guy is not going to break my New Year’s resolution.

A resolution that was made after a weekend of eating chocolate, watching nonstop regency dramas, and crying into three boxes of tissues. A detox of men. Until I am ready, dating is at the bottom of my list. And for good reason too. After five years of dating my college sweetheart, Felipe Cano shattered my heart into a thousand pieces and then stabbed each jagged shard into my back. While out Christmas shopping—for Felipe’s present no less—I spied him mid-lip-lock with the new KOSI 101.1 intern. Not only did I lose the love of my life, I had to find a new radio station where I didn’t hear my ex’s voice every day.

This year is supposed to be about new beginnings and fresh starts. The only man I’m interested in is the one I can find in the pages of my book. Give me all the Mr. Darcys, Peeta Mellarks, and Gilbert Blythes. They will never let me down.

Though I will admit... Desmond is easy on the eyes. But I will not be tempted.

“We need to leave before someone plows into us. We’re lucky it hasn’t happened yet,” he says, pulling me from my thoughts. “Where are you heading?”

“Rocosa. It’s a small mountain town not far from here. You might not have heard of it.”

“I have, actually. What brings you to our little hideaway?”

I blink in surprise. Half the time my co-workers forget this sleepy town is nestled in the mountains only fifteen minutes away.

“Work.” I jab my thumb behind me at the bookmobile. “But I’m also visiting a good friend.”

“Who? I might know them.”

“Oh, I don’t think you will.”

He laughs and leans against his bike, crossing his feet at the ankles. “Try me.”

I raise a brow at his confidence. Even if it is a small town, my college roommate only moved there at the end of last school year to be a substitute teacher for a lady who left on maternity leave. She loved the cozy mountain town so much that she jumped at the school’s full-time offer. Based on our last conversation, most of her apartment is still littered with moving boxes.

“Julia Peterson,” I say as if one would say “checkmate.”

His eyelashes flutter as he thinks. Just as I’m about to gloat, he springs off the motorcycle in surprise. “The new teacher, Julia?” His eyes flick to the bus and back to me. “Are you the librarian everyone’s been whispering about? The one coming to spruce up our library? We sure could use it.”

Guilt plows into me like a Mack truck. “I—uh—yes. How did you know?”

“Small town... word travels fast whether you like it or not.” He grins another smile that has me taking another step away from him. What else does this stranger know about me?

And why am I getting all flustered?

“Ready?” he asks, gesturing to the motorcycle.

I eye the bike with mistrust, especially the tiny spot that looks like the rear seat. “I’ve never been on one of those before. I’m not sure I’ll fit.”

I pat my hip in case he hasn’t noticed. I’m not some model-thin girl you see on the backs of these things in leather or booty shorts. My body curves in all the right places. Yes, it makes clothes shopping a pain, which is why I settle on skirts or dresses more often than not. But when I do find a nice pair of jeans or leggings that fit me, I’ve been known to turn a few heads.

“Oh, you’ll fit just fine.”

His silver eyes darken the longer he stares at me, and I shiver at the intensity. I never understood the phrase “eyes darken” in all the books I’ve read before, but seeing it in person, it suddenly makes sense. And wow , I get it.

I take another step back, bumping into the bus. “Let me lock this up before we leave.” Not that I think someone would steal a bus with kid handprints painted on the side, but I need to shake some sense into myself.

Almost eight months of not dating has turned me into a giggling schoolgirl when someone shows me a sprinkle of interest. Climbing into the bus, I eye myself in the overhead mirror as I pass and point to my reflection, sending my book earrings swinging. “Don’t turn this into a romance novel, Maya. He’s just giving you a ride to town. Ignore the butterflies.” I nod, like I’m a sane person who doesn’t talk to herself, and grab my purse and useless phone and lock up the bus door.

As I approach, he picks up a second helmet that was strapped to his seat and hands it to me. “If you ride with me, you have to wear one of these.”

“You just happen to carry an extra one?”

“Not usually, but, uh...” He trails off, his cheeks reddening. “The why doesn’t matter. What’s important is that you wear it and probably my jacket too. You have way too much skin showing.”

My spine stiffens. Too much skin? I’ve worn this sundress to church a time or two. Since when is showing my arms and neck a crime?

Unaware of my inner turmoil, he unzips his leather jacket, shrugs it off, and holds it open for me.

I shake my head, my neck heating. “No, thanks. I’m fine with what I’m wearing.”

“It feels that way now, but it will be colder once we get moving. Plus, it’s for safety. If we get into an accident, there is zero protection between you and the road.”

Oh. For my protection. My argument dissolves on my tongue, leaving me with a sour residue of assumption. Of course he is talking about safety and not my body.

Quickly I agree before I wedge a foot in my mouth.

He slides the soft leather over my shoulders, the interior still warm and smelling like musky aftershave.

“Here. These too,” he adds and hands me a bulky set of gloves. They’re oversized on my small hands. I open and close my fists awkwardly.

“How do you ride with all this on? I’m overheating.”

“It’s like wearing a seatbelt in a car. You won’t notice your gear the more you ride. Now the helmet so we can get going.”

“Getting rid of me so soon?” I joke, then blush. Why does it sound like I’m flirting? Stop talking, Maya.

I smash the helmet over my head so fast, flattening my wild curls. A surprise waft of floral perfume hits me, and my heart sinks. Another woman has recently been wearing his extra helmet. Here I’ve been shooing off the butterflies in my stomach when he’s a taken man.

“May I?” he asks, pointing to the helmet’s chin strap. As soon as I nod, he clicks it in place and smiles. “They can be tricky with gloves on.”

Why is he so nice and not single? It seems unfair. The good guys are always taken, leaving the rest of us with the Felipes of the world.

“Thanks,” I say, disappointed for some reason.

Desmond places his helmet on and swings his leg over the bike with the grace of someone who’s done it a thousand times. Muscles from his biceps strain through the white dress shirt. For a split second, there’s a strange crackling in my ears as he adjusts his helmet.

Goodness. Seeing him up on his bike twists my insides into heart-shaped knots. Who knew bikers were so sexy?

Shutting my visor, I give myself one last pep talk before I hop on. “Maya, get it together,” I whisper to myself. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen a hot guy before.”

Desmond whips his head toward me, probably at the end of his patience.

“Now stop ogling the man and get on the bike before he drives off without you,” I scold under my breath. My eyes catch on the metal piece that suspiciously looks like how I’m to mount the bike. “Is that little peg going to hold me?”

He clears his throat, and it pipes into my helmet in surround sound. “It will. Feel free to hold on to my shoulders for balance if you need it.”

“?Ay!” My heart nearly explodes out of my chest. “You can hear me?”