Read Kissing Eden Online

Authors: T. A. Foster

Kissing Eden (4 page)

Renee reached a handful of bikinis in through the curtain. “Why
, don’t you look, darlin’, in that dress? Green is definitely your color.”

I looked at the girl in the mirror with choppy blond bangs. “I’ll take it.”

“Good, now try on these suits. With your figure, they’re all going to look great. I wish I could still wear some of these. I’ll grab some sandals and flip-flops for you to try too.”

Renee sure knew how to sweet
-talk her way into a sale. I had never thought about my figure, as she put it. I knew guys looked at me, but unless I actually saw them doing it, it never occurred to me to worry about how I looked. There was no hiding the curves in my hips or in my breasts that garnered all kinds of unwanted attention.

I chose a turquoise bikini out of the pile of prints she gave me. I liked the bright color against my skin, even though I was in desperate need of some sun.

I walked to the register in the green dress with a tank top, two fitted T-shirts, a pair of running shorts, khaki shorts, and my bikini folded in my arms.

“Is it ok if I wear the dress now?” I asked Renee.
I already felt like a different girl in the vibrant shade of green.

“Of course. It really is your color.”

I felt better being out of the sticky jeans. Something about wearing a dress just made me feel prettier. I never wore dresses or skirts to class, and Brett wasn’t really the type of guy who liked to take me out to nice places. It seemed like most of our dates were at parties with groups of other people. Thinking about our three semesters of dating, I couldn’t recall a single dinner date that was only for the two of us. Group settings were always Brett’s romantic go-to.

“Honey, you ok?” Renee was waiting for me to pay for the armful of merchandise.

While I was in the dressing room, she had collected an assortment of sunscreen, toothpaste, and shampoo for me. It looked like she had all of my short-term needs covered.

“Yes, yes, sorry.” I handed her my spring break credit card.

There goes two hundred dollars I didn’t plan to spend, but I was more than making up for it by staying at the Palm Palace. I could afford a few outfits.

“I’m so glad you came in tonight. Now if you need anything this week—you know
, if you’re luggage doesn’t show—you just come right back here and I’ll help you find something else.” She winked as she passed two bags to me over the counter. “I’ve got every spring break necessity right here in this store.”

“Thank you, so much
, Renee. I hope my bag gets here tonight, but I promise I’ll come back before I leave.” I spotted a black dress on a corner stand that I wanted to try on during my next shopping trip.

I smiled at the shopkeeper and walked out the door in the direction of the bar the Palm Palace’s surly handyman had suggested.
It was easy to navigate around the beach neighborhood.

A few cars whizzed past me before I attempted to cross the highway to the sound side of the island. I walked into Pete’s in my new green dress and sandals, feeling slightly reenergized, but famished.

A guitar player was perched in the corner singing an acoustic song I had never heard about a girl with eyes as blue as the Texas sky. The words were almost haunting, but so simple they were beautiful. I watched as he strummed. He seemed to be lost in his lyrics. I sidestepped a few guys playing pool and made my way to the bar that stretched the length of Pete’s.

“What can I get you?” The bartender had a warm smile. He reminded me of my dad with the way the edges of his hair were peppered with gray.
I was terrible at guessing ages for people my parents’ age, but he was probably fifty, like my dad.

I slid
onto an open barstool and dropped my wardrobe bags to the floor. “I’m starving. I could eat anything. What do you recommend?”

“Pete’s has a pretty mean cheeseburger. How does that sound?”

“Awesome.” I grinned. Just the thought of a burger right now made my mouth water.

“One cheeseburger coming right up. What can I get you to drink?”

I surveyed the row of liquors behind the man. The oversized bottle of Jose Cuervo caught my eye. “I would love a margarita.” Taylor and the other girls were likely ordering pitchers of them right now.

“You twenty-one?” He eyed me.

I dug in my wallet to present my ID. “Yes, sir.”

“North Carolina, huh? You here for spring break?” He reached for a margarita glass and shoveled a scoop of ice into a silver shaker.

“I am. First time in Texas actually. I’m here by myself.” Something about him made it seem ok to reveal my situation. His smile was reassuring. I had been tense and guarded all day. It was nice to shed some of that wall.

“You’re here by yourself?” He acted genuinely surprised.

Sitting alone at a strange bar, on an island I had never visited, surrounded by people I had never met, without a single friend within a three-state radius all of a sudden seemed absurd. What in the hell was I doing in Texas? His concerned look reminded me of how upset my parents were going to be when I tell them about my change of plans.

I gulped down the first half of the margarita before answering. “Yep. Stupid idea I guess.”

“I don’t usually do this, but here.” He jotted something down on a napkin and slid it across the bar.

I read the numbers. Oh my God. Did he just give me his
phone number? Maybe he wasn’t the paternal type after all.

“I’m Mac. If you need anything while you’re here, you give me a call. That’s my cell. Anything
.
I’m serious. It makes me a little nervous knowing a young girl like you is here alone.”

I sighed. He was doing something my father would do. “Thanks, Mac.
That’s really sweet. I’m Eden.”

“Where are you staying? One of the big resorts?”
He dried a beer pilsner before placing it on the shelf.

“No. My boyfriend, I
mean my ex-boyfriend, stole my room. The only place I could get a room was the Palm Palace.” I hoped it didn’t take me long to stop making that mistake about Brett.

Mac chuckled. “The ole Palm Palace
, you say. That place has seen better days.”

“Yeah, it is in serious need of a makeover.” I tasted the salt on the rim of the glass. Someone should call HGTV and have them do a motel crashers episode on the place.

“Grey’s working on it. It’s going to take some time. There’s a lot of work over there for one man to handle.”

“Grey? Are you talking about the handyman devoid of people skills?”

An image of the paint-splattered, brooding, fix-it man darted through my mind. I didn’t know his name, but I could easily recall his sexy eyes. Rude or not, there was something about his eyes.

“Orders up!”
a high-pitched voice called from the other end of the bar.

Mac turned to retrieve my cheeseburger from the cook
, who was hovering in the kitchen window. He placed the plate in front of me.

“Taste it. Go on. Try it.” He waited for my first bite.

I didn’t need much prodding. My stomach growled at first sight of the plate of food. A pile of fries spilled over the side and onto the counter.


Mmm-hmm,” I managed to mumble through my first bite of the cheeseburger.

“Told
ya. Best burger on the island.” Mac threw a towel over his shoulder and moved down the bar to help a new Pete’s patron.

I watched as he filled two pilsners with a dark gold beer from the tap.
He fell into a conversation about the weather with the man who had ordered. The singer paused between songs before starting a tune about a girl who stole his heart in Laredo. This was like a Texas music immersion class.

The last ounce of my drink tasted especially limey.
I could feel waves of the tequila starting to warm my limbs. Mac delivered a second drink to me with an extra lime. Maybe it was the country crooner or the margarita, but for the first time all day, I felt relaxed.

Then
, he walked in.

It was impossible to ignore the broad shoulders on his athletic frame as he passed between the pool players. He was almost a head taller than the other guys in the bar. He no longer wore the paint-splattered T-shirt.
His hair looked damp, like he had just taken a shower. The blue plaid button-up shirt he wore was rolled up to his elbows. He was sexy in that silent, mysterious way, but I was starting to think jetlag had set in. I was way too curious about him and trying too hard to catch a glimpse of his eyes again. I should not be checking out the motel handyman. I focused on the limes floating in my drink.

“Hey, Grey. How’s it
goin’?” Mac asked over the guitar player who had amped up his performance. The song carried a faster beat.

Grey sat on a stool a few spots from me. He didn’t seem to notice me sitting at the bar.
At least his gaze never shifted from Mac.

“Same ole, same ole, Mac.” He rested his forearms on the counter while Mac poured him a beer.

“I hear ya, man.” Mac deposited the beer in front of him. “You ready for the spring breakers over there?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready
. There’s a shit-ton of work to do.”

“Hang in there, man. We’re all real proud of what you’re doing.” Mac
smiled and walked toward the kitchen.

Grey raised the glass to his lips and took a sip. Unintentionally, I mirrored his actions. Every time he took a sip, I took a sip. I kept stealing looks at
him behind the safety of my margarita glass. He still didn’t see me. Within five minutes, my second margarita was history. My head felt slightly fuzzy, but my whole body was tingling from the tequila.

A third margarita didn’t seem like a good idea, but I looked at the clock hanging above the row of liquor bottles
. It was only ten o’clock. I debated ordering another drink from Mac when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“My buddy and I were wondering if you play pool.”

A guy, who was so lean his T-shirt swallowed him, smiled a toothy grin. His friend stood next to him holding two pool cues.

“I’m not much of a pool player.” I fidgeted on the barstool.

“We can teach you. I’m Connor and this here’s my buddy, Pick.” They each tipped the brims of their cowboy hats. There was no mistaking it. They were local Texas boys.

Something about them made me want to give them a hug right then. “All right. I’ll give it a try, but only if you promise not to laugh when I completely whiff on my first try.” I took the stick from Connor.

“We wouldn’t do that.” Connor’s smile was genuine.

“I’m Eden, by the way.”

Over the corner of Pick’s shoulder, I saw Grey. His eyes held mine with startling intensity. I was afraid that if I blinked, it would give him just enough leverage to see right into my thoughts. For a second, my knees went a little wobbly and my cheeks rushed with heat.
Too many margaritas, Eden.
I smiled at him, aware at how glad I was he had finally noticed me.

“Ready to play?” Connor’s insistence shattered the trance. I hopped off the stool, wondering why Grey stared at me like that, and why it sent every nerve in my body into overdrive.

I returned their smiles. “Yep. Teach away.”

Regaining control of my senses, I followed the Texas duo to an open pool table. I leaned into the pool cue to steady myself
as Pick and Connor argued about who was going to hit first. Knowing I had more distance from Grey, I peeked around the wall the guys made with their bodies. That look still had me distracted and curious. I watched as Grey threw a few bills on the bar and walked out of the double doors of Pete’s. I exhaled and tried to settle my body back to its normal state.

Connor grabbed the rack
, and lined the inside of the tray with the stripe and solid-colored balls. “You’ve really never played pool before?”

“No
, I haven’t. I guess that does seem kind of weird.”

It wasn’t like I hadn’t spent time in bars, but for whatever reason, this scenario never happened.
Taylor and I usually huddled somewhere to talk while the rest of our friends played and drank.

“As long as you aren’t trying to hustle us.” He laughed and it made me feel relaxed, like I was hanging out with my brother and his friends.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, boys,” I teased, knowing I was blowing a lot of smoke.


Whoa, Connor. Sounds like she’s already challenging us.” Pick leaned over the table with the stick cradled along the ridge of his thumb. He swiftly shot the stick forward breaking the triangle and scattering the balls around the table.

“We’re trying to teach her how to play, not how to embarrass herself.” Connor was having fun taunting his friend.

“Go ahead, pool master. If you think that was so bad, show us how it’s done.” Pick stepped to the side and took a swig of his beer. He was slightly shorter than Connor, but with a stocky frame. I could easily imagine him as a running back.

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