And Then He Kissed Me (29 page)

“Well, looks like we have a late contender!” Leif said graciously. He walked over to give Audrey a hand, which she accepted, sweating and huffing. Kieran held his breath as Leif pulled Audrey onto the stage. The crowd tittered as they took her in—hair askew, makeup a mess, sweaty and waxy looking. Not to mention in a rumpled, stained dress. Leif directed Audrey to her place on the stage, while Kieran glared at the people closest to him, daring anyone nearby to so much as exhale with amusement.

“We’ll start with our questions to ascertain city knowledge,” Leif said, continuing like a true professional. He pulled an index card out of his pocket. “And our first contender is Jeannie Swanson! Jeannie, come on forward.”

A thirty-something woman in a high-waisted teal satin dress—leftover bridesmaid’s attire, Kieran surmised—stepped next to Leif. Jeannie smiled at Leif, then the crowd.

“Now, we want to get to know all our contestants a bit. Also we want to make sure folks know we don’t discriminate when it comes to the title of Asparagus Queen. Women who wear the crown can be either married or single, and you’re the former, is that correct?”

Jeannie nodded. “I’m married to a wonderful man, Wilson, and we have two daughters, Brianne and Renee.”

“Wonderful. Now tell me, Jeannie, for your first question, how did White Pine get its name?”

“Oh, well that one’s easy. White pine was the kind of tree that the lumberjacks used to cut around here, then float on the Birch River down to the sawmills.”

Leif grinned. “That is one hundred percent correct! Well done. You can step back in line now.”

On and on they went, until finally Leif came to Audrey. She was blinking in the dim light, as if trying to stay focused, and she didn’t smile as she found her place next to Leif onstage.

“All right, Audrey Tanner. It says here you’re a former gym teacher but you are starting your own business. What business is that?”

Audrey licked her dry, lipstick-free lips. Kieran could see the wheels struggling to turn in her hungover brain. “I—uh—want to—uh—do prrmp trmunp,” she mumbled into the microphone. Kieran struggled to make sense of the words. What was she saying?

“Pole dancing!” Leif said, his eyebrows nearly shooting off his forehead in surprise. “Well, now that’s a first.” The crowd erupted into giggles of amusement and murmurs of disapproval.

Audrey shook her head, her hands flailing for the microphone. She hadn’t said pole dancing, Kieran realized.

“You misunderstood!” Kieran shouted, but his voice was lost in the crowd’s buzzing. Onstage, Leif was anxious to move on, past the unsavory career choice he’d misheard.

“All right, Audrey,” Leif said quickly, “tell us what item of clothing the White Pine Historical Museum has that once belonged to city founder Jebediah Stronghouse.”

Audrey swallowed. She was so pale that Kieran worried she would pass out. She gave an unflattering tug on the hem of her dress. “His h—hat,” she managed.

“That’s correct!” Leif said, returning to Jeannie Swanson without another look at Audrey. Kieran’s heart crumpled at her horrified expression. Dear God, she looked like she was going to burst into tears, and she’d only answered
one
question. There were four more to go.

Kieran barely moved as the second question was asked of woman after woman:
Tell us about how you’ve helped someone recently.

When it was her turn, Audrey blinked at the crowd. Kieran could see Leif standing farther away this time, as if she was somehow unsavory. Audrey’s eyes were focused somewhere over the crowd’s heads. Silence settled in the tent. You could hear every shoe scrape and every cough.
She’s in shock,
Kieran realized.

Pain tore through him. He had to help her. He could not—would not—let her humiliate herself any further.

So he took a breath and did the only thing he could.

He stormed the stage.

*  *  *

Audrey struggled to breathe. The dress’s fabric was too heavy, laden with far too many crystals, and hot against her skin. She was claustrophobic in it, and thought she might overheat. Her limbs were numb and tingling, and she wasn’t sure how much longer her legs would support her weight.

To call the pageant a disaster was an understatement. In the crowd, one woman glared at her, then grabbed the hand of her young daughter and yanked her out of the tent.

They think I’m a pole dancer,
she thought, her chest tight with panic. Next to her, Leif was saying something, but she couldn’t make out the words. Time was wobbling and warping—slowing down and speeding up so she couldn’t tell where one moment ended and the next began.

I am such a screwup,
she thought, tears pooling in her eyes. The next idea pierced her like a stab wound:
Maybe my sister was right. Maybe I
can’t
do anything right on my own.

She feared that the sudden rumbling in her ears was the blood rushing to her head in scarlet mortification. But then, to her surprise, the rumbling reached a crescendo in
front
of her, and Kieran Callaghan came roaring out of the crowd.

She struggled to stay upright as he vaulted onstage. Beside her, Leif Jenssen went rigid. He lifted the microphone to his mouth but didn’t seem to be able to find any words to say into it.

Kieran’s thick motorcycle boots clomped as he walked over to Leif and whispered something in his ear. Leif stared at him for a moment, then nodded.

And then he did the most astonishing thing:
He handed Kieran Callaghan the microphone.

Kieran took it, then stood next to Audrey, who decided she was hallucinating this whole thing. The pageant wasn’t really happening. It couldn’t be. No way Kieran Callaghan was standing next to her onstage. She would wake up soon, warm in her own cozy bed, and she’d laugh later when she told the whole Knots and Bolts gang what she’d dreamed.

The feel of Kieran’s arm around her waist was all too real, though. His muscled body was a tower next to her exhausted frame, and she leaned into him.

When she chanced to look up at him, his sea-colored eyes churned with a tempest of emotion. He tore his gaze from hers to address the crowd under the tent.

“My name is Kieran Callaghan and I work at the White Pine Harley dealership that opened up recently.” His strong, steady voice reverberated in every part of Audrey’s body. His grip tightened around her waist. “I don’t know many of you, but
many of you do know Audrey
. And because you know her, it’ll be clear to you that your friend and neighbor isn’t feeling too well right now.”

He took a breath, his broad chest expanding. “This is a town filled with good people, and so I’m sure you all will extend to Audrey the same grace and understanding you’d want if you were up on this stage right now.”

There were murmurs in the tent. For a moment, Kieran looked like he was going to hand the microphone back to Leif, but then changed his mind.

“Just one more thing,” he said, his voice gravelly with an emotion Audrey couldn’t quite place. “I’d like to answer the last question Leif asked—the one about helping someone recently—by saying that Audrey Tanner’s kindness and faith in me changed the course of my life. She helped me, that’s for sure. And I know she’s changed many of you out there as well.” He paused, as if collecting his thoughts. Inside the tent, people were looking around as if to say,
Who is this guy?

“I know Audrey Tanner has taught many of your children at school,” Kieran said, “and I know she’s helped get some young women track scholarships for college. When your kids were in trouble, I know many of you went to Audrey, because she’s the teacher who would help. And she’s
still
helping your kids, believe it or not, even though the school decided to let her go.”

Audrey blinked. Was she really hearing this? Kieran was defending her, and, improbably, the town was listening. She looked out at the crowd and saw softened faces, even a few smiles.

“Audrey Tanner isn’t a pole dancer,” Kieran continued. “She’s a personal trainer. She’s trying to start her own business, and if you’re smart, you’ll support her because she’ll be amazing at it. And even if she was a pole dancer, it wouldn’t matter. Audrey can be a dancer or an Asparagus Queen or a janitor for all anyone should care. Because she’s perfect, just as she is. She is astounding.”

He cleared his throat into the mic, sending reverb blasting through the tent.

When the screech of the amplifiers was finished, Audrey could hear clapping and cheering from a small section of the tent. She searched the crowd to see Willa, Betty, Stephanie, and Anna, all whooping and hollering like mad.

The next thing she knew, she was back in Kieran Callaghan’s arms and being whisked offstage.

C
HAPTER
TWENTY
-
THREE

O
utside the tent, the sun was blindingly bright. Audrey blinked, only dimly aware of the polka band oompah-ing a few yards away, the charcoal smell of asparagus brats wafting through the air, and the drum major for the parade—a life-sized asparagus with epaulets—readying this year’s participants for the short, three-block march.

She was much
more
aware of Kieran Callaghan carrying her, of his arms cradling her close and his rumbling growl of “Excuse me,” as he shoved past festival-goers. After two blocks of felted crafts, flapping asparagus flags, and trees wrapped in green crepe paper, he finally cleared the bounds of the festivities on Main Street and stopped at a bench outside of Loon Call Antiques. Gently, his breath coming in low rasps, he placed her on the wooden surface, then knelt in front of her. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was proposing.

“Are you all right?” he asked. He grasped her hands in his and squeezed—a movement that was both thrilling and reassuring.

Audrey stared at the man who had just rescued her from social suicide in front of the entire town and wondered how to answer. Was she all right?

Her sister had lied to her.

The whole town had briefly thought she was a pole dancer.

She was desperately hungover.

And yet Kieran had saved her, and her friends had cheered for her. Audrey straightened, trying to think clearly. “I’ll—I think I’ll be fine,” she said. She was also going to be embarrassed and horrified for weeks, maybe years. She tried not to dwell on it.

“I’m proud of you,” Kieran said gently, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. The movement made Audrey’s dry throat even more desert-like. If he meant it to be comforting, it wasn’t. The subtle brushes had tiny shocks electrifying her bones, creating fissures so the energy went straight into her marrow.

“Proud of the village idiot?”

“You are not,” he argued. “A lesser person wouldn’t have gotten up on that stage at all. Not after the kind of morning you had. But you got up there.”

“A smarter person wouldn’t have gotten up there, you mean,” Audrey said with a sigh.

“You can get out the cake and balloons, but I’m not going to throw you a pity party.”

“Then throw me an
amnesia fiesta
so I don’t have to remember any of what just happened.” Except, of course, the part where Kieran had defended her and said all those wonderful things. He’d given a speech full of admiration and honesty, kind enough to make her head spin.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Kieran offered.

“Well, it would have been worse if you hadn’t saved me. If you hadn’t jumped on that stage and made Leif Jenssen look like he was going to pass out.”

“It was him or you.”

“That seems dramatic. I was doing okay.”

“Could have fooled me. You looked like shit and I thought you were going to barf on Leif’s shoes.”

Audrey giggled. The sound surprised her. She didn’t think anyone could make her laugh after what had happened today.

“Is there a poem you think captures the mood of this moment?” she asked. “A piece of verse?”

“There once was a gal from Nantucket, who went up onstage and said fuck it…”

Audrey giggled again. Kieran grinned, and inched closer. Part of Audrey suddenly wished him even closer still, but he stayed put.

“You got up on that stage and did the best you could,” he said. “I don’t think many people would be able to say that. And for what it’s worth, you handled your sister at the diner like a damn pro. You did great.”

Audrey’s muscles tightened. Her sister.

They might never speak again after this.

The world blurred as tears pooled in her eyes.

“My stupid sister,” she said. “What a liar.”

Kieran watched her. “You figured that out pretty quickly. That she was lying, I mean. How did you know?”

“She repeats things when she lies,” Audrey said. “She did it even when we were growing up.”

“Ah, so you knew her tell. I should have picked up on it myself, but I think I was just so rattled. It was pretty intense.” His gaze was heating up the space between them. She could feel his stare in every part of her body.