Island Kisses: A Billionaire Love Story (The Kisses Series Book 9) (7 page)

A
s if I
wasn’t already feeling rushed enough to get ready for a date with a stranger, my sister decided to stop by, unannounced. I had barely hopped out of the shower and squeezed into some skinny jeans before my doorbell sounded. I knew it was Rosie even before I went to the door. She was a surprise-visiting madwoman and the only one who would ever show up to my house without some kind of warning.

“I’m coming!” I shouted, as the doorbell continue to ring.

If she wasn’t so obtrusive, I’d just give her a damn key to the house,
I thought. I realized just how awful of an idea that would be. I’d have my mother and Rosie at my house constantly if they had free access. As much as I loved them both, I didn't think I could handle that.

I slipped on a simple blue blouse and then ran downstairs. My hair was still wet as it bounced over my shoulders. Sure enough, when I turned the corner, there was Rosie standing at the front door. She waved when she saw me.

“Hi, Rosie,” I said as I unlocked the door and let her in.

“Jeez, Harper, what took you so long?” she asked. “I’ve been standing out here forever.”

“I was in the shower,” I responded. “I do have things to do, you know? Working from home doesn’t mean that I’m never working.”

“Well, that’s why I came over,” she said, as she pushed past me and made her way to the living room.

I closed the door and followed her, feeling my wet hair drip down my back as I moved. With my sister’s visit, I doubted that I’d have time to dry and straighten it, so I basically just accepted that I’d have curly hair for this date. Rosie plopped down on my couch and kicked her feet up onto my coffee table.

“I noticed that you haven’t updated your blog today,” she said. “And it got me to wondering about your date last night.”

“Oh yeah, last night’s date,” I mumbled. I'd meant to call her and tell her about it, but I wasn't quite ready for the
'I told you so'
that I knew was going to come with it.

“Well, tell me everything,” Rosie pried. “Was Gabe the man he claimed to be? Did he look like he did in the pictures? I hope he looked like his pictures. He was model material.”

I rolled my eyes and chuckled softly to myself. “Yes, Rosie. He was the same guy as in the pictures. And actually, the date went really well. I was honestly kind of surprised by how fun it was.”

“Really?” Rosie said, leaning forward. Well, as forward as she could with her belly. “You mean you
liked
him?”

“I said the
date
went well. I didn’t say whether or not I
liked
him.”

Even if I did like him, which I totally didn't, there was no way I was going to tell Rosie that. There was no way I was going to tell her that I thought he was charming and handsome and had made me laugh all night long. She would just rub it in on how she knew best.

Rosie saw right through me, though. Her eyes widened with delight and she couldn’t help but to let out a giggle. “I knew it! I
knew
it was going to work out with him. See, I’m the best matchmaker there is, Harper. You should have let me set you up all along.”

“Rosie, I love you, but I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself,” I said, pushing her feet off my coffee table and onto the floor a little roughly. “I mean it was only one date and just because it wasn’t completely horrendous, doesn’t necessarily mean that he qualifies as my future husband.”

“I think you’re playing it off as something much smaller than what it really is,” she said as she twirled her hair with a pride-filled smile plastered on her face. “You haven’t had a decent date in years, Harper. I mean, I just don't want you to screw this up like you did with Craig.”

I cringed and felt a little burst of anger fill me as she spoke. I hated it when she brought up Craig. The relationship had fallen apart when he had taken a job overseas. The breakup wasn't my fault, but the hurt of that breakup still stung.

“First off, Rosie, that’s entirely unfair to bring up my relationship with Craig.” I did my best to keep my voice calm, even though I wanted to scream the words. “It’s not even relevant to what we’re talking about. Craig and I were finished years ago. He ended it. Not me.”

“Right, that’s my point, Harper,” she said, ignoring the warning in my voice. “The last good date you had was with him. What have you been doing for the past three years? Seems to me like you’ve spent all your time going on bad dates. I was merely stating a fact. This date with Gabe has been the first decent one you’ve had since Craig.”

I was beginning to get legitimately annoyed. What she was saying wasn’t wrong, but it was something that I already knew. There was no point in bringing it up and the only thing it was doing was making me look and feel bad.

“I don't want to talk about Craig or Gabe,” I said firmly. “Change the subject.”

Rosie didn't get the message. “Don't push Gabe away like you did Craig is all I'm saying.” She shrugged as if it was entirely my fault that the relationship had fallen apart.

“Look, dating outside of college is infinitely harder. Once you start working, your circle of friends change. It’s not the same.” I snapped back, red filling my vision. “And not everyone can just marry
their boss.”

The words fell out of my mouth and I immediately felt bad about saying them. It was definitely a sore spot for her.

Low blow, Harper. Put the claws away and leave your sister alone,
I thought, putting my hand over my mouth. I immediately wished I hadn't said anything. Just because she was pushing my buttons didn't mean I needed to push back.

Rosie looked to the ground and I could tell that what I had said hit home for her. Her shoulders slumped. I took a calming breath, knowing that she was here because she loved me. I walked up and sat next to her on the couch, wrapping a loving arm over her shoulder.

“I didn’t mean that,” I said. “I’m sorry. It’s just that, I know that I’ve had a rough few years of dating and it’s hard to get reminded of it.”

“I shouldn't have brought up Craig. I sounded like Mom,” she admitted. “I think I've just been spoiling for a fight. I'm really sorry, Harper. It was mean of me. I'm going to blame hormones for this one.”

I rolled my eyes. “You blame everything on hormones.”

“It's one of the few perks of being pregnant.” Rosie’s defeated look quickly turned back into a hopeful smile. “I really am happy for you, though. It’s good to hear that you had fun. Plus, you never know. Maybe Gabe will turn out to be something good. Like
really
good.”

I shrugged. “Anything is possible.” My eyes moved past her to the clock on the wall. It was almost seven. “Rosie, I’m sorry to do this, but I have about fifteen minutes before I need to be at the bowling alley.”

“Are you going bowling with Gabe?” she asked, her smile giving away her excitement.

“No, it’s a new guy,” I explained, immediately wishing I had thought of saying anything else.

“Really?” Her face fell. “But I thought things with Gabe went well?”

“I already told you, sis. The date went well with Gabe, but that doesn’t mean I have to put my entire dating life on hold because of it.” I gave her a hug and offered her my hand to get off the couch. “Besides, I have to have bad dates to put up on the blog. This date is just for work.”

Rosie eyed me warily for a moment before taking my hand. She grunted with the effort of standing as she followed me to the door.

“Just for work, huh?” Rosie let out a long suffering sigh as I slid on my shoes. “I suppose that’s fine. But if you really like Gabe, you shouldn’t do anything that could screw it up. Be careful with this guy.”

I walked through the front door with Rosie close behind as she followed me out. I hoped that my hair would be dry by the time I got to the bowling alley. “I won't screw anything up. I'm a dating pro, remember?”

“Are you sure you should go on this date?” she asked as I locked the door behind us. “You could call and cancel right now. Maybe go on a date with Gabe instead?”

“Good night, Rosie,” I said, as I gave her a quick hug and hopped in my car. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow and tell you all about on tonight’s date. Or you can just read about it on my blog tomorrow night. I have a feeling it’s going to make for a great story.”

T
he moment
I laid my eyes on Dave, I knew that this was going to be a date that would result in an awesome blog post. He was standing next to his car in the parking lot of the bowling alley. The car looked like it probably belonged to his grandma. It was one of those giant olive-green boats that I would see old women driving while their white hair bounced just above the steering wheel.

Dave, my date for the evening, was leaning against this car like it was the coolest thing on four wheels. He looked proud while wearing a two-tone bowling shirt and khaki-colored slacks, which actually made the car look pretty good in contrast. His blonde hair was combed over to the side and he smiled goofily as soon as I walked up.

“You must be the lovely Harper,” he said, flashing me a friendly smile.

“And you must be Dave.” I went for a handshake but he ignored it and pulled me in for a hug. My face hit his chest and a scent entered my nose. It was the smell of cheap cologne attempting to hide body odor. It wasn’t pleasant, to say the least.

“Do you have your bowling shoes?” he asked, looking around like I had an invisible bag somewhere on the ground.

“Um, I don’t actually own bowling shoes,” I responded.

“What about a ball?” He was still looking for my invisible bowling gear. “Do you have your own ball?”

This is off to a great start,
I thought.
A great start for my blog...

“No, I’m not really a bowler, so I don’t have any of that stuff.” I shrugged and offered up a smile. “I guess I’ll have to rent.”

“I
guess
that will work,” he said, as he popped the trunk of his car and grabbed a fancy looking bag out of the back. “Are you ready to do some bowling then?”

I sighed and glanced back at my car, kind of thinking I’d rather just leave. But then I remembered that I still needed something good to write about on my blog. This date had “nightmare” written all over it so I couldn’t just run away.

“Yeah, let’s bowl,” I said, as I mustered up all of the excitement that I possibly could.

Dave wrapped an arm over my shoulder and we walked into the bowling alley. I took the first chance I could to get away from him and walked up to the counter to rent my shoes.

“I’ll go get a lane,” he said. “I’ll meet you over there. Get ready to have some fun!”

It took absolutely everything in my power to keep my eyes from rolling. But I managed, then turned to the counter and rented my shoes. After slipping them on, I walked down toward lane ten, where Dave was standing and polishing his bowling ball like it was a precious historical artifact. I took notes in my mind. I wanted to remember all of this.

Pure gold,
I thought.
I don’t know if it gets much better than this.

By the time I approached him, he had put on some sort of wrist brace.

“What’s that for?” I asked, nodding to his wrist.

“I use this to keep from injuring my wrist,” he explained. “This isn't my lucky one since I'm not competing with you. I’m a professional bowler, you know? This baby is how I make my bread and butter.”

He held his right arm up, with a proud expression on his face. You’d have thought that arm had cured cancer by the way he looked. It certainly hadn't said that on his profile.

“Interesting,” I humored him. “A professional bowler, huh?”

Well, now I know for a fact that I’m going to lose this game.

“Yeah. It’s not all glory, though,” he explained, as he punched some things into the ancient bowling computer. The end of the lane lit up and the pins were revealed.

“No?” I had always thought bowling was just a fun game. I never really considered it a professional sport with
glory
.

“The touring around, the women, the fame, sometimes it’s just a lot to handle,” he continued, nonchalantly striking a heroic pose. “I'm rather important on the circuit. I'm kind of a big deal. I'm surprised you haven't heard of me.”

I waited for the wink or nod to indicate it was a joke, but it never came. I snorted as I held back a laugh. He was serious. I couldn’t believe it. I didn't even own bowling shoes- how would I have ever heard of him?

“Anyway, get yourself a ball and let’s get rolling,” he said. “Tell you what, if you beat me, then I’ll buy you dinner.”

Thank God I’m going to lose this game,
I thought.
I do not want to go to dinner and listen to bowling hero stories.

I grabbed a ball and walked back to the lane, setting my ball down in the holder.

“You’re up,” Dave said, motioning to my resting ball.

“You want me to go first?”

“Ladies first.” He grinned widely. I grimaced as I saw that he had missed a spot brushing his teeth.

With a sigh, I walked up and attempted a roll. The ball made it about three quarters of the way down the lane before sinking in the gutter. I turned around and walked back to my seat, ignoring Dave’s look of disappointment.

“I'm not much of a bowler,” I admitted.

“Your profile said that you like sports,” he replied, putting his hands on his hips.

“I do like sports. Like football,” I explained.

He frowned for a moment. “Then you probably should have checked that option instead of just sports. Sports means a lot of things.”

It was one of the answers that I had changed from Rosie's answers about me. Had one little exaggeration changed my match that much? No way was the software
that
good.

“It's not a problem, though,” he said, a knowing grin spreading across his face. “Let me show you how it’s done. I can teach you so much.”

Oh please do, almighty bowler. Grace me with your skills, awe me with your God-given talent,
I thought.

This was going to be the easiest blog post I’d ever written. I watched Dave stroll up the lane. He held his bowling ball up to his lips and gently kissed it, before doing his roll. The ball hit the lane and spun, giving it the perfect arch at cruised down toward the pins. It hit perfectly and exploded into his first strike of the game. He turned around, nodding his head and smiling as he walked and sat down next to me.

“Just like that,” he said. “That’s all you have to do.”

“That easy, huh?” I said. I smiled and batted my eyelashes a little to flirt. “I have this feeling that you’re going to win this game.”

“Most likely,” he responded without even a pause. Arrogance rippled off him in waves.

Wow.
I thought to myself.
What a charmer.

I glanced up at the bowling lights. We still had nine more frames of torture. I wanted to just thank him and see if I could return my shoes and still get my money back, but I couldn’t just leave. This was the best fodder for my website that I had had in a while. This date was like a payday for me and I needed it. So I got up and rolled another ball. This one made it almost all the way down the lane before it sunk in the gutter. I felt like I was getting better.

Dave hopped up and of course rolled another strike right after me. He was just beginning a celebratory dance when my phone vibrated in the front pocket of my jeans.

Thank God. Maybe my house is on fire and I can go home,
I thought.

Any excuse to look at my phone was welcomed. I thought for sure it would be Cora or my sister, so I was surprised to see an unknown number. I normally didn’t answer calls like that, but this was an exception. Dave walked up to give me a high five right as I answered the call.

“Sorry, this is for work,” I told Dave before putting the phone up to my ear. “Hello?”

“Is this Harper?” A man’s voice asked.

“Yes, this is she,” I replied.

Dave stood in front of me with his arms cross. He whispered, “We’re on a date. You should get off the phone.”

I held up my hand and smiled. I
did
just say it was for work. We couldn't all be professional bowlers.

“Hi. It’s Gabe, from last night.” The voice filled with an obvious smile on the other side of the line.

“Gabe?” My heart flop flopped to the sound of his voice. I was a little surprised to hear from him. I didn’t expect him to defy the three-day rule for calling me. It had hardly been twenty-four hours since I had seen him last. “Hi.”

“It’s kind of loud where you are,” he said. “I can’t hear you very well.”

“I’m sorry, I’m at a bowling alley,” I explained. I took a step away from the lanes and up onto a carpeted area where it was marginally quieter. “How are you? I’m actually glad you called.”

“I’m doing well, I just wanted to touch base and see if you were free this weekend. I got an extra ticket for a certain game of a certain team, and I thought that you might like to come with me.”

“You have tickets t\o the Blue Jays?” I squealed, as my eyes lit up with excitement.

Dave was still standing in front of me, looking totally annoyed, but I didn’t care. I had just received some pretty amazing news. If a bowling strike was worthy of a celebratory dance, this was worthy of a whole dance party.

“Yep, I’ve got two tickets and I’d love it if you could join me,” Gabe said. “If not, I understand. It’s pretty short notice.”

“Are you kidding me? Count me in! I’m not going to miss the chance to see my team play at home,” I exclaimed. “That doesn’t come around very often for me.”

“Good,” he said. “The game is at six. I am unfortunately in meetings until about five, but I can come to pick you up right after.”

“I don’t want you to have to rush to my place after your meeting just to pick me up,” I replied. “Why don’t we just meet at the stadium?”

“That works for me,” he said. “I’ll see you then. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too, Gabe.” I was all smiles and my stomach was doing happy flip-flops. “I’ll see you on Sunday. It's a date.”

I hung up the phone and slipped it back into my pocket. I was beaming and I had a giant grin from ear to ear. I had almost forgotten where I was, standing in the bowling alley with Dave.

“Did you just plan a date with whoever you were on the phone with?” he asked. “That didn't exactly sound like work.”

Even though dating was kind of technically my job, I wasn’t going to flat out lie, so I just shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Are you kidding me?” He threw his hands up in the air dramatically. “Who does that?”

“Sorry, Dave,” I said, feeling a little sheepish. The rudeness of what I had just done was slowly dawning on me. “I just had a chance to go to a football game on Sunday and I took the offer. We can still finish our game of bowling, though.”

“No way. This is ridiculous,” he said, as he walked over and grabbed his ball, stuffing it into his bag. He kicked off his bowling shoes and threw them in with the ball with a flourish.

“I’m sorry, Dave,” I said, watching him have a mini temper tantrum with his things. “This clearly wasn’t meant to be, though. I think we can both agree on that.”

“You’re telling me,” he responded. “You don't even
bowl
.”

I stared after him as he marched past me and out the front doors of the building. The effect was somewhat ruined when he stopped at the announcement board on his way out and signed up for a tournament. Apparently, I hadn't devastated him too badly.

I looked down at my shoes and started to chuckle.
I
was the bad date this time. I was the one who deserved to be written up and skewered for bad behavior on a date. My laughter started to come louder as the irony of being the bad date took hold.

Some of the other bowlers must have thought I’d lost my mind. I returned the bowling shoes and went to my car, noticing that the olive green Dave-mobile wasn’t there any more. He had gotten out of there in a hurry. My old car was still parked crooked, just like last night.

That's when it hit me.

This is how I can write about a good date and a bad date in one blog post,
I realized.
My good date with Gabe has turned me into the worst first date.

I hurried home, anxious to tell the world how
I
was the worst date ever.