Just Kiss Me Read Online Free Page B

been so damn annoying. He might have cut her a break if she hadn’t broken into his personal belongings while she ransacked every room in the house. Growing up, he’d seen little of the girl with the big green eyes and pale white skin. He and Spence had come home to Charleston on school breaks but spent most of their summer months at the beach house with their grandfather Shuler. He hadn’t had to see Vivien on a daily basis to know she had sticky fingers. He hadn’t had to see her in action to know that she’d pawed through his and Spence’s bedrooms. He and his brother used to set books and knifes at specific angles and put thread on the handles of their closets. Every time they returned, the thread was gone and the books were at slightly different positions. One time, Spencer put a mousetrap inside his sneakers, and when they’d returned home, the trap was stuffed in his dress shoes. Another time, he’d put sticks of hot pepper gum in a pack of Wrigley’s Doublemint. They’d come to Charleston for spring break and had found one piece missing. One piece. They’d laughed about that for the entire week.
    Henry set the kettle back on the stove and he combed his damp hair from his forehead. Rainwater soaked the shoulders of his shirt and he lowered his hand to flick a glob of mud from his chest. Mud smeared his forearms and he had a muddy handprint on his shoulder. He probably had mud on other places he couldn’t see. There had been a time in his life when he would have suspected that Vivien got him muddy on purpose. A time when her lips would have said “sorry” but her eyes would have spoken of unapologetic glee.
    He fit the little lid on the pot and moved to the pantry. What he recalled most about Vivien was that she’d always been a little actress. He’d never met anyone in his life, and he’d known some shady characters, who’d managed to look so damn innocent while lying her ass off. She could get caught with chocolate on her face and her hand still in the cookie jar and convince everyone that she’d been set up, wronged, and wasn’t the least bit guilty.
    A set of pink cups and saucers sat on a shelf next to empty canisters in the bare pantry. Henry was a coffee man himself, but he’d have to move north in shame if he didn’t know how to make hot tea. Which was a good thing, because Ms. Macy Jane hadn’t filled any of her cupboards with much at all. A few dishes and loose tea where about it, but then Macy Jane hadn’t lived in this house.
    He carried a cup and saucer across the eat-in kitchen to a small table beneath a window that looked out into the garden. Vivien had a lot of fans here in Charleston. The hometown girl turned big Hollywood movie star. Macy Jane had been her biggest fan and had never even tried to contain her pride. Not that she’d ever tried to contain any emotion. She’d been so proud of her only child. She had Vivien’s pictures everywhere and starlight seemed to beam around her whenever she talked about her “sweet girl.” Yet Vivien had rarely come to see her momma.
    If the town knew Vivien Rochet was in Charleston, the mayor would likely throw a parade and her fans would dress up in various
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costumes. They’d squeeze themselves into neon pleather and stiletto boots, black togas and metal bikinis. They’d line up to pay homage to Zahara West, but Henry wouldn’t be among them. First, he didn’t dress up in any sort of costume for anyone, and two, he was not a fan of Vivien Rochet.
    There had been a time in his life when he’d dated models and heiresses and debutants. When he’d lived at breakneck speed and had gone through his share of beautiful and smart women. Hell, he’d even dated an actress or two. Vivien’s fame and beautiful face did not impress him. He didn’t care if she appeared on coffee mugs and movie posters; he just wasn’t impressed by a woman who seemingly cared so little about anyone but herself.
    The heels of his work boots stirred up