Karma’s Kiss

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

I never thought rock bottom would feel so…hot.

I’m burning up.

This rental car is stifling. The air conditioning can barely keep up with the overwhelming heat trying to encroach from outside. That’s summer in Texas for you.

I drop my face lower, right in line with the air vent that’s working overtime, but it’s still not enough. I battle with the urge to peel out of this parking lot and drive anywhere. North, south, east, west—any place is better than here.

Here being home .

Oh god. I’m not sure I have the energy to go through with this, to walk into that bar and return to a life I left behind eight years ago.

The parking lot of John’s Ice House is packed to the gills. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry is inside drinking cheap beer, waiting for me to make my grand entrance. I know what they think about me. Well…at least what they thought about me last week. Madison McCall is really something special. She was the valedictorian of her graduating class at Oak Hill High before earning a full ride to Auburn, where she served as her sorority’s president while maintaining excellent grades. More importantly than all that, she managed to snag a proposal and a big fat diamond ring before those four precious years were up, and not from some Joe Blow, but from a real catch—a senator’s son.

That was last week though. Now, things are different. Now , I’ve been thrust off that high horse and they all know it. Some of them—all right, most of them —are probably really happy about it too. It’s not that I’m some horrible person, but everyone loves a dramatic fall from grace—it’s titillating! Watching other people fail epically refocuses the magnifying lens off their own troubles even if only for a little while.

The rental car groans with the struggle of keeping the A/C on full blast, and then a finger suddenly taps on my window. I lurch out of my seat, banging my head on the steering wheel.

“ Jesus. ”

I wince as I clutch my forehead and turn to see my old classmate, Pam O’Neal, standing just on the other side of my driver’s side door. She’s smiling wide and waving her hand, indicating she wants me to roll down my window. I don’t do it right away; I’m hoping she might get the hint and leave me alone, but instead, she crouches down and taps on the glass again, shouting through it.

“Hey, darlin’! You going in or are you havin’ a bit of me time? Don’t let me bother you if you are. I do that sort of thing ’bout once a week when Jimmy and the kids are annoying me. Sometimes, I like to park just down the street from our house and I turn on a juicy audiobook, you know one of those real steamy ones—”

Quickly, so as to not encourage any more details about her steamy personal time, I kill the engine, yank my purse off the passenger seat, and open my door.

Here goes nothing.

As I stand up and straighten my dress, Pam steps back and takes me in from head to toe before she delivers a low country whistle. “Well look at you. Gorgeous as ever. I bet you ate those men alive in Montgomery.”

I blanch, then blush—the color spreading even more once Pam meets my eyes and realizes she just put her foot in her mouth. She has the decency to look down and hide most of her pity. When she looks up again, she’s smiling brighter than ever.

“You know what? Who needs men? God, they’re a pain in the ass. How about we go inside and you let me buy you a beer?”

Before I can agree, she loops her arm through mine and starts tugging me across the dirt parking lot.

I always liked Pam. She and I never really hung out much in high school; there just wasn’t any opportunity. I was busy running track and heading up the debate team while Pam was bumming cigarettes and flirting with truancy officers.

“You been in town long?” she asks, eyeing my designer heels.

“Just arrived today, actually.”

Her heavily lined eyes widen in shock. “ No. Really?” Then she lowers her voice, mumbling mostly to herself as she continues, “Nothin’ like ripping the Band-Aid off…”

She’s right about that.

This is not how I envisioned my first night back in Oak Hill, Texas. I was supposed to go straight from the airport to my mom’s house where I could lick my wounds in private. After a quiet dinner where she kept her probing questions to herself and I pretended everything was fine, I was going to steal an expensive bottle of wine from where she likes to hide them under the kitchen sink “for emergencies” and then I was going to wallow, sulk, and despair up in my childhood bedroom, alone and in that order. Instead, Queenie changed the plans on me when I called her outside arrivals.

“You just come on down to John’s, honey. There’re loads of people who want to see you. They’re real excited you’re back in town.”

Of course they’re excited! I’m sure they’re lining up in droves to witness my demise.

I can’t believe I’m here right now, stuck in these circumstances. I had a carefully laid plan for my life, and up until recently, it was all going swimmingly. For the last twenty-six years, I’ve been a perfect daughter, perfect sister, perfect student, then after graduation, a perfect wedding coordinator and perfect fiancée. Turns out being perfect isn’t enough of a safeguard against the trials and tribulations of life because you can be perfect and still walk into your house on a Monday evening with plans to cook a delicious and complicated chicken soufflé for your handsome fiancé only to find him sitting in the living room—home early from work—nursing a bourbon sour. He looks up at you with pitiful blue eyes and stares you square in the face as he explains that he’s fallen out of love with you. In fact , he’s in love with someone else. In one-tenth of a second, your perfect life can pop like a balloon, and you’re left picking up the pieces in the dusty parking lot of John’s Ice House.

This is the last place I want to be tonight, but Pam is tugging me through the door and it’s too late to turn back now. My presence is already drawing attention and—

Lord have mercy.

I scan the crowded bar and feel the color drain from my face. The whole town’s crammed in here. Clearly, my mom’s taken it upon herself to invite everyone: my choir teacher from sixth grade, my high school track coach, and—is that…? It is. The mayor.

“Madison. Oh my god. Look at you!”

A blonde woman puts herself directly in my path and opens her arms to me, and I have a moment of panic because I have absolutely no idea who she is. Her bouffant hair is teased with so much product it nearly reaches the ceiling.

“That’s Jolene. She had her nose redone,” Pam whispers, and I’m suddenly grateful I have her by my side.

“Jolene, hi.” I smile tightly.

Jolene juts out her bottom lip and reaches for my forearm. “Now listen, I know you’ve had a rough little breakup, but you barely look like you’re going through it.” She looks up at my hair and cringes like my lack of volume physically pains her. “You’re welcome to borrow my comb if you want to run into the bathroom and touch up. I have some hairspray in my purse too.”

My hair is fine. Everything is fine.

“Thank you,” I say in lieu of something worse.

Behind her, there’s a train of people waiting to step right up and offer their greetings, backhanded words of wisdom, and sage advice for how I should move on from my ex-fiancé, Matthew.

“If I were you, I’d date his brother,” someone tells me before another person chimes in with, “Better yet, sleep with his dad!”

It’s my mom who finally saves me from the pandemonium, cutting through the crowd to get to me, her hair so blonde it’s almost white. Queenie McCall is everything you’d expect from a retired small-town beauty queen. Fifty-something means nothing to her. She’s still a bombshell, the life of the party, the last one to leave any social gathering, and one of the cutest dressers I know. Tonight, she’s wearing a lime green caftan that complements her tan skin along with gold bangles and a few layered necklaces. I will, at some point, steal her entire look.

“MY GIRL!” she squeals when she gets ahold of me. Around and around she twirls us until I feel unsteady on my feet.

When I protest, she finally holds me back at arm’s length so she can look me over. “You are the most precious thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Then she tugs me back in, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I’m so happy you’re home, baby girl. That man didn’t deserve you.”

I’m suddenly awash with a feeling of comfort I’ve been missing in Montgomery. I close my eyes and inhale her familiar floral scent, but all too soon she spins us toward the bar and raises her voice. “Lenny! You get my girl a shot of Fireball. We’re welcoming her home in style !”

Everyone crowds in around us, and I knock back two shots before I finally extricate myself and go in search of my brother, David. My mom told me she thought she saw him playing pool in the back, so that’s where I head. I weave through the crowd with my head down, trying to skim past tables without making eye contact, but in the doorway to the back room, I’m waylaid by Hunter Bryce, my old classmate and overall goofball.

“Hot damn , Madison McCall in the flesh.” He reaches out for my hand, and once he has it, he bows like I’m a queen. “Let me take a moment to personally welcome you back to our little neck of the woods.” I’m already smiling before he’s done. “I’ll have you know things have changed a lot ’round here since you’ve been gone, so if you need a tour guide or someone to show you around, you know where to find me.” He lets go of my hand and snaps his fingers like he’s just had a bright idea. “Better yet, why don’t you let me take you out tomorrow night. Nothing fancy. Me, you, a bottle of Jack Daniels—”

“Hunter,” a commanding voice cuts in. “Quit stalling and go get that beer you owe me.”

My attention is drawn across the back room to the guy standing in the darkened corner, casually holding a pool cue between his hands, and my stomach dips at the sight of him. Sawyer Garnett is the kind of handsome that takes your breath away the first time you see him. Fortunately, this isn’t my first time, but it has been a while. Eight years hasn’t taken the edge off him in the least. In fact, he’s more good-looking than ever.

There wasn’t a girl at our high school who wouldn’t have bent over backward to get Sawyer to notice her. He was the star of the baseball team and our town’s golden boy. Now, he’s no longer a boy, but he’s no less golden.

A lot of Sawyer’s power comes from his smile. Oh sure, he’s good-looking every minute of every day; there’s no getting around that. But when he aims that dimpled grin at you…when you’re forced to watch it slowly unfurl…you forget the make and model of your car, your mother’s maiden name. Worst of all, you forget to breathe—so that when he finally looks away, you’re left standing there, disoriented and slightly sweaty, wishing for a stiff drink.

Still, it’s unfair to discount the rest of him. His hair is pretty powerful too. Thick and brown, just long enough up top to look artfully tousled. His eyes are almost the same color, so dark and deep you’d better leave a trail of breadcrumbs to avoid getting lost in them.

I swallow and watch as those warm brown eyes land on me. I feel his gaze like a knot’s just cinched itself around my heart.

“Hi, Madison.”

The way he says it, it’s like we’ve got some kind of inside joke together.

“Hi, Sawyer.”

“Aw, see?” Hunter chimes in. “All that time away and you’ve still got your cute accent. Would have been sad if you lost it altogether.”

I chuckle as I nudge Hunter with my elbow. “I was in Alabama, not New York City. People there have a southern drawl too.”

“True. But now you’re back where you belong. Does your brother know?”

“Does her brother know what?” David says, coming up behind me and draping his arm around my shoulder. He’s so heavy I nearly buckle under his weight, but my protests fall on deaf ears. Big brothers…

“Would you get off me, you idiot?”

He pulls me into a hug and takes me clear off my feet. My dress rides up and I’m pretty sure I’m flashing my panties to the entire bar, but David just laughs. It’s always been like this with us. David’s four years older than me and twice my size, and he’s never been shy about throwing his weight around. We used to get into all-out brawls over whose turn it was to use the family computer or the house phone, and I’d always end up losing.

He eventually sets me down, but only when he’s good and ready. I’m straightening my hair and adjusting my dress when he says, “Heard you were doing whiskey shots.”

I roll my eyes. “Fireball. Mom’s idea.”

He grins. “Sounds like Queenie.”

“Where’s your better half?” I look behind him, searching the bar for my sister-in-law Lindsey.

“Back home with Cruz. She was sad to miss you. Wanted me to invite you over for dinner soon.”

“Of course. And Cruz’s first birthday is coming up. I’m excited.”

“You gonna be in town for it?” he asks, his brow cocked with surprise.

I toss my hands up in defeat. “Well hell…looks like it.”

Hunter claps David on the shoulder and shakes him with excitement. “Well now there’s a reason to celebrate! Need a beer, Davie? I’m headed to the bar. Next round’s on me ’cause Sawyer just whooped my ass in pool.”

At the mention of his name, I glance back over at Sawyer to see he’s watching our exchange with a cool expression. This setting is really working for him. Hazy low lighting makes him seem more intimidating than he already is, and when his eyes lock with mine, I look away quickly—too quickly—and then I hate myself for it.

It’s just Sawyer.

Since when am I shy around Sawyer? Oh right, since always.

My older brother’s best friend always had this effect on me when I was growing up, but I never put much stock in it. He had that effect on everyone , including my best friend Kendra who was certifiably obsessed with Sawyer; in her eyes, no one could ever measure up. She wasn’t alone. Our entire town was head over heels for him, but within our friend group, Kendra laid claim to him early and protected that claim with a tenacious fortitude that would have made Napoleon proud.

I would have thought time away from Oak Hill and a full-fledged serious relationship with another man would have dulled some of Sawyer’s magnetism, but I guess not. How…unfortunate.

“Actually I’ll go with you,” David tells Hunter. “Don’t trust you to make it back with the drinks anytime soon.”

“What? You sayin’ I’m not good for a beer?”

David’s already pushing him out of the pool room. “I’m saying you’re the most annoyingly outgoing person I’ve ever met and it takes you thirty minutes to walk through a room ’cause you want to stop and yap with everybody.”

Hunter snorts. “Look who’s talkin’, Mr. Eagle !”

I can’t help but laugh at the mention of David’s old high school superlative.

They head out of the room as David replies, “That’s right. I’m practically royalty, and it’s time you start acting like it…”

I’m smiling still as I turn back to Sawyer. It’s just him and me in the back room now, and though the coward in me wants to start taking slow steps back toward the crowded bar, I stay put and ask something I’m curious about. “Did you come here tonight for the welcome home party?”

His smile says, Don’t flatter yourself, darlin’. “I play pool here with the guys most Fridays.”

“So it’s just a case of right place, right time. That’s convenient.”

His eyes spark with interest. “For who?”

I’m ashamed that I blush, just like that, from absolutely nothing except his unwavering gaze pinned right on me. “I just mean…that way you get the gossip firsthand.” I hate that my voice quivers with nerves. I hope he can’t hear it. “Don’t have to wait to hear what everyone’s whispering about tomorrow morning.”

I swear that spark dims a little as he nods in understanding. “I don’t pay much attention to what the town gossips have to say. According to them, you’re in a pitiful state at the moment what with your unexpected heartbreak and all.”

I’m surprised he’s willing to tell me what everyone’s been saying. “What else?”

He lays his cue against the side of the pool table and gets to work racking up the balls. “They wondered if maybe you’ve changed.”

I raise my brows. That’s not so bad. It could be worse.

His brown eyes peer up at me from where he’s bent over collecting balls from one of the pockets. “Some have speculated that you might have let yourself go toward the end of the relationship…”

I snort, unladylike as it might be, and shake my head. “Of course there had to be a reason, right? Guys don’t just break off engagements for no reason.”

He shrugs. “That’s what they were thinking.”

My chin takes on a hard set as I try to keep from getting worked up over a bunch of meaningless nonsense. People gossip in small towns. It’s what they do. Most of them probably see it as their God-given right: Thou shalt not steal. Thou shalt not covet. Thou shalt talk as much shit about thy neighbor as thy damn well please.

“Obviously they were wrong,” Sawyer says, drawing my attention back to him.

“Yeah?”

“ That can’t be why the relationship ended.”

I consider what he’s saying, and then my cheeks heat so much they must be cherry red. It feels like a compliment, though it’s so tangled up with everything else we’ve been saying I doubt he genuinely meant it that way. Even if he did, he’s probably just trying to be nice.

“You still know how to play?” he asks, nodding at the pool table.

I grin. “Think I’ve gone soft living in Montgomery?”

David taught me how to play pool years ago, back when he and his friends were seniors and I was a lowly freshman. I learned in this very room, on these pool tables. I wasn’t ever very good and I’m definitely out of practice. Matthew wasn’t much of a pool kind of guy. He preferred tennis at the club on the weekdays and golf on the weekends. Playing pool in a smoky back room of a bar just wasn’t his style, and by extension, couldn’t be mine either.

Sawyer grabs a spare pool cue from where they’re mounted on the wall and holds it out for me to take. I curve around the table as I approach him, and though I’m wary of getting too close, I try not to show it.

Sawyer’s wearing jeans and a black shirt, dirty work boots, and a teasing smile that makes desire curl in my stomach in a way it definitely shouldn’t . I reach out for the cue he’s holding, but he doesn’t relinquish it right away. I don’t tug. There’s no sense in fighting him for it. Sawyer has me trumped in every way that matters here: height, strength, confidence. He’s grown up into such a man, and though I know I’ve grown up too, here and now, I feel as small as ever.

“I like that dress,” he says, holding my gaze.

I look down at the white sundress with its short hem and thin spaghetti straps. My mom bought it for me for my last birthday knowing it would look great on me. Back in high school, I would have killed for the body I have now. I was knobby kneed well into college, and now that I actually have curves to show off, I’m all too happy to do it.

“Little fancy for John’s though, don’t you think?”

I smirk. “At least one of us dressed for the occasion.”

He laughs. “I came straight from the vineyard. Next time I’ll wear a tuxedo.”

He lets go of the cue and I step back, grateful for the distance he puts between us when he takes his turn and breaks, easily pocketing two solid balls in one go. Then he takes aim at another one and sinks it too. His turn continues until he’s pocketed five balls.

“Guess I’m stripes…” I mumble under my breath.

Obviously, he’s playing to win. I feel his eyes on me when I step around the table and try to act like I’m employing high-level geometry skills to triangulate my shot when in reality I’m just trying to keep my hands from visibly shaking as I bend down and aim for the cue ball.

“Want a little help?”

I can picture it: him sidling up behind me, leaning his heavy body over mine. “No thank you.”

I pull back and whack the cue ball, but it spins out, hits the side rail, and loses momentum before it manages to connect with anything. I stand and push my shoulders back.

“And that’s how it’s done,” I quip.

Sawyer tosses his head back and laughs, and I shamelessly watch him do it when I should be girding my loins and hightailing it out of here. What the hell am I doing playing pool with Sawyer Garnett? Kendra would have a field day if she saw us; she will have a field day when I tell her about it tomorrow.

“So is any of that gossip true?” Sawyer asks on his next turn.

“Which part?”

He takes another shot and easily pockets another solid. Then he keeps his attention on the table as he positions himself for his next shot.

Whack.

“You being single now.”

I refuse to consider the possibility that Sawyer might actually be interested in my dating life, so I deflect. “Well I was , but didn’t you hear? Apparently Hunter wants to take me out on the town tomorrow.”

“Damn, a guy’s gotta move fast, I guess. Had I known, I would have been waiting for you at the airport.”

My smile slowly drops as I stare, waiting for him to look up and toss me a wink or a “Gotcha,” but his focus remains on the table as he takes aim and sinks another ball.

I’m out of my depth here. I had plans for tonight. I was going to soak in an overfilled bathtub and drink wine straight from the bottle. I should be crying on my mom’s lap and demanding karmic retribution for Matthew’s behavior.

Instead, my hands are sweating around my pool cue as I try to decide whether or not this is real or just a figment of my imagination. It was really hot in that car earlier. I could have passed out. This could all just be…a fever dream. Actually, it’s my teenage dream.

“How about this? If I win this game, I get to take you out tomorrow instead of Hunter,” he suggests confidently. “Don’t worry, I’ll break it to the poor guy.”

I balk at the suggestion as I sweep my hand over the pool table. “You’ve practically won already. Who in their right mind would take that bet?”

“All right, then we’ll do the opposite. If you win, I take you out.”

I don’t reply because I have absolutely no idea how to respond to him, but it doesn’t matter. He proceeds to scratch his next turn, and the next four after it as I watch in bafflement. Never mind that I haven’t actually agreed to his bet…I’m too shocked! I’ve always been a kid in his eyes, David’s little sister, Kendra’s friend.

When it becomes clear I’m not going to win even with him playing poorly, he can’t help but give me pointers. “Stand over there and aim for the green striped ball in that corner. A blind person could make this shot, Madison.”

I do as he says and…miss.

He just laughs. “Well damn, you might need to get your eyes checked.”

I toss my hand up. “This is ridiculous! Just put us both out of our misery and win the game already. How much longer are you going to drag this out? I haven’t sunk a single ball. We’ll be here until midnight.”

The sentiment behind my words is clear: joke’s over. You’ve reeled me in and had your fun, now let me go.

Instead of doing as I say, Sawyer lays his pool cue on the side of the table and holds up his hands in forfeit. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Staring at his unbearably handsome face, cataloguing everything from his smooth, square jawline to the endearing little scar just above his right eyebrow, I feel so many things at once: excitement, fear, annoyance, intrigue. I want to stomp over to him, grab him by the collar, and shake him until he tells me what he’s really playing at here.

Fortunately, I’m saved from making a fool of myself because right then, Queenie pokes her head into the back room and whistles to get my attention. “Madison McCall, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! If you don’t get your butt out here and dance with your mama, you’re gonna break my heart! My achy breaky heart! ”

The Billy Ray Cyrus classic is blasting from the speakers, and I have no choice but to set down my pool cue and head toward my mom. She holds her hands out for me to take, and though I want to look back at Sawyer just one more time before I leave him there, I resist the urge. When in his life has he ever been left high and dry by a woman?

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good to be the first.