A Kiss to Remember

Chapter Three

Tiara

Did I just agree to date Ryan Shelby?

Well not practically date him, ‘fake’ date him, like Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock in The Proposal. How crazy can this be?

How crazy can I get?

Giving up on the dress hunt, I fold my dresses back into the closet and sprawl on my bed, replaying the last one hour in my head. One hour, that’s all it took for my whole world to turn upside down.

Or is it downside up?

To be painfully honest, my life is nowhere going where I planned. Not like I planned much. But ever since I started my own studio with Melody, it’s not been as full blown as expected.

You’ll think the daughter of Grace Lemptons would encounter more success in New York.

My mother grew up in a small hometown in England like a normal child, but from the time she moved to New York, she has always been the center of things, getting more and more famous the more she grew. It has always been her thing, her charisma, another thing Ciara inherited from her and I didn’t. Marrying Donald Lemptons, one of the country’s great businessmen, added more to her fame and even when she moved to Georgia with him, it hadn’t diminished.

From what she told me, things had been going well for them, he was wealthy and she was famous, the perfect match. Well up until a few months after Ciara’s birth when Post Partum Depression led her to have an affair with a big shot photographer way down in Georgia during a shoot. It would have done a great deal for me if I found out she was in love with my father and had an affair with him but finding out it was just a mere fling made me feel bad both for myself and my dad.

Donald Lemptons couldn’t send her away, it would damage his family and reputation. But he couldn’t accept another man’s child blatantly too.

The only compromise was to give me his name and tell the world I was his child. My father didn’t accept this of course and that’s how I ended up with James-Lemptons for a surname.

The bastard daughter of Grace Lemptons.

I saw my father occasionally because he is headstrong and persistent. He fought for custody but lost obviously because Donald. Lemptons is way more powerful. I never really understood why Donald wanted to keep me, for his wounded ego perhaps, but till date he has always ignored me profusely.

Like I said, my life isn’t the way I planned. The plan was to graduate college and work photography under my father. But suddenly he put his career on hold and decided to travel the world for three whole years. Now I’ve got to start my own career, which by the way, isn’t making shit.

I roll over on the bed, my thoughts dragging back to Ryan. Oh those dark eyes, the memories they bring. The laughter, the conversations…

Do I want to do this? I ask myself. Date Ryan? Do I really want to entangle myself with all the drama that is sure to come my way? I’ve never really liked drama but have I always wanted the attention that was deprived from me like Ryan claims?

I don’t have to answer that question because deep down I know the answer.

No, I don’t want the fame and love that the media shows Ciara, but damn sure I want the attention I didn’t receive from my mother and every other times when I was supposed to be the spotlight. For once, wouldn’t it be nice, for people to look at me, for people to have a reason to look at me other than to compare with my sister? Wouldn’t it be nice for once to see the shock on her face after all these years of her sneering and mock laughter.

I’m dragged out of my thoughts by a text from Melody;

“You there? You didn’t reply to any of my text earlier.”

Shoot! True enough there are two texts from her, asking if I’ve finally picked a dress for the wedding. I must’ve missed it while I was consumed by Ryan’s presence.

I shoot back a text.

“Yh, sorry. Ryan came over.”

She replies almost immediately.

“Ryan? Like THE RYAN SHELBY?? :o”

I roll my eyes at the phone but there’s a smile on my face when I text back.

“Don’t be dramatic, Mel. He only came to ask for a favour.”

“Playing with dangerous waters, huh, Tiara. What did he want?”

Dangerous waters. I think about the way he held me against his body and the way my nipples reacted immediately and the memory makes me blush stupidly. Shaking my head I reply her again;

“Tell you when I see you.”

“In two days time then. Tell me evvvvveeeerrryyythhinnngg.”

Chuckling, I drop the phone and continue my packing. Both Ryan and Melody are gonna have to wait till I’m done packing before I let my thoughts drift again.

Seven whole seconds, is all it takes, before I start thinking about him again.

***

Two days pass by in a blur.

I have to go to the studio to meet with a client twice, although I sent out a memo that we’ll be off for two straight weeks. That was about the only fruitful thing I did during those two days. I tried dress shopping online, didn’t see anything I found attractive, I practiced ways to style my hair, I cleaned up, I packed some more, I received the memo spelling out the wedding’s week-long event from Ciara’s assistant prompting me to bring a plus one. Ha, if only she knew. I contemplated make up and decided on minimal, I rechecked the flight details, and I waited almost dreadingly for Ryan to show up at my doorstep.

He comes at exactly 11am dressed in a white linen shirt that has three buttons undone showing off his tanned skin and black pants that hangs on his hips in a way that ...

Get a grip Tiara.

 He gives me a boyish smile as I open the door for him and I feel my heart pause for a second. “Sup Tee?”

He is holding a short black traveling bag in one hand and a gift bag in the other. I frown at it.

“My flight is at 12, I decided to come an hour earlier.” He walks past me and sits on my couch. I hate that my apartment looks too small for him and his aura.

Wait flight? Shit we never got to talk flight details. “I already booked a flight.”

He shrugs and regards me. “Cancel.”

“What?”

“You booked economy?”

I glare at him. Being the daughter of Grace, money has almost never been a problem for me. But yeah I booked economy. Chunks of my money are going into the studio and who knew photography would turn out this expensive?

At my silence he speaks up again. “No offense Tee, but I’m not flying economical. Our flight is going to be first class. Cancel.”

Ugh the arrogant bastard! I dash into my bedroom and drag out my luggage, pausing for a couple of minutes to cancel out the virtual flight ticket.

When I emerge back to the living area, he turns to look at me and instinctively, I jut a chin at the large gift bag by his side. “You didn’t tell me you were getting wedding gifts.”

He looks momentarily lost for a second, then he recovers. “Oh,” he stands grabbing the bag and passing it to me, “It’s for you.”

I startle. “What?”

“You don’t have any dress for the wedding. I saw your whole collection when I came in here the last time.” His voice is mocking.

I flush. “Oh, uh… I’m not a dress person.” More like a baggy outfit kinda girl.

“I know.”

“I was hoping to get a dress when we get there.”

He stares at me coolly. “Just saved you the trip.”

“Thanks,” I mutter and gently take the gift bag without taking a look inside. I’ll have enough time to do that later.

He is still standing there, dangerously close to me, an expression I can’t fathom splayed on his face.

I shift to from my right to my left foot. “One hour to get to airport, we’ve gotta move now or we’ll never make it in time.”

“Yeah,” his eyes doesn’t leave mine, “just one last thing to do.”

“Oh?”

He stretches a hand to slightly graze my elbow and I gasp softly, almost flinching at his touch. “That,” he says, “no one’s gonna believe we’re together if you keep on doing that.”

I blink stupidly. “Doing what?”

“Reacting that way,” his voice is cool, collected, unlike mine and he steps closer as if to prove a point. I resist the urge to take a step backwards and stand my ground.

A small smile quips at the corners of his lips. “Stay still Tee.”

My voice comes out as a squeak. “What?”

“As still as a corpse.”

He must have stepped closer again because suddenly there is no space left between us anymore and I think I sway a little. His hands fly to my back to keep me in place.

“As still as a corpse,” he repeats, his voice stern and low.

With one hand still on my back, the other hand comes up to caress my face and tuck a strand of hair behind my left ear. My breathing comes out in soft raspy sounds as he continues caressing my face, looking down at me with that slow fire burning in his dark eyes.

I know what he’s about to do and I know I should push him away. It’s wrong for him to make me feel all this things around him. It’s wrong for him to hold me like this, pinned under his stare and his hands. And it sure as hell is wrong for me to want him to do what he is about to do, possibly a little faster then he intends.

Unintentionally, my body strains upwards. I almost groan.

Fuck, just kiss me already, I think, and all of a suddenly I can think no more as he  – as though reading my thoughts – swoops down and takes my lips in his.

For the first one second I’m unresponsive, shocked by the feel of his lips on mine and the tightening around my pelvic area in response to his kiss.

Then as if on their own accord, my hands fly to his hair and my lips begins their responsive molding against his. His lips are soft, but firm, unyielding as his tongue explores my mouth. I moan softly into his mouth and mirror his tongue with mine. His hands tighten on my back, drawing me closer to him as he kisses me senseless, tilting me backwards with the sheer force of his body. His hand trails the length of my back to my ass and he squeezes lightly before —

He abruptly lets go, holding me at arm’s length breathing hard.

I almost protest. My lips are stinging slightly and my head is dizzying from the force of our kiss.

I look at him quizzically and he stares at me hard. “Damn, Tee,” he says, then let go of me totally and rake his hand through his hair I just messed up.

Looking anywhere but me, he grabs my suitcase and his and heads for the door. “Come on, we’ve got forty-five minutes left give or take.”

I’m standing there staring at his retreating back, wondering;

What in the actual fuck just happened?