The Perfect Kiss

by Mara Jacobs

Chapter One

Dear Lord, let me finally kiss Lewis Kampmueller.

Darcy Bennett sent the thought out to the Universe, to the Heavens...really, to anyone or anything that would listen and help make her biggest-and oldest-wish come true.

This was her year. She could feel it. It would begin at midnight with the kiss she'd imagined ever since her brother, Brooks, brought Lewis home from school when the boys had been in the third grade. Darcy wasn't even in kindergarten yet, but she knew with absolute certainty that Lewis Kampmueller would one day kiss her and they would live Happily Ever After.

After The Kiss (though usually a practical person by nature, she had always thought of her future with Lewis in capital letters), she and Lewis would spend the rest of the evening and beginning of the new year-Their Year-talking, dancing, laughing, maybe a bit more kissing, and generally falling in love.

He was sure to spout an "I can't believe how much you've changed" or "You're so grown up" or perhaps, dare she hope? maybe even a "What a beauty you've become."

Her friends and parents had told her as much, but Darcy had been the proverbial ugly duckling too long to accept her swan feathers just yet.

But if Lewis gave her even half the look he'd been giving Grace Devine forever, she'd finally believe.

And after all, swans mated for life, didn't they?

Darcy almost pulled out her smartphone to Google that fact for confirmation, but stopped herself. She was already making this into a Cinderella analogy, with the stroke of midnight and all. No need to mix her fairy tale metaphors and add in The Ugly Duckling.

Besides, no gadgets of any kind tonight. Not even a quick text to her girlfriends back in Boston, apprising them of her progress.

She was unplugged, unwired, and ready to finally kiss the man she was going to marry.

Tonight, when he kissed Grace at midnight, as he had for the past ten years, Lewis would finally tell her how he felt.

No more of the quick peck that she got stuck giving him each year. He'd paid much more to her safety nets to just settle for that, but settle he had. And some of those years, coming up with bribe money had put a serious crimp in his budget.

But he would pay anything-and now had the means to-for just a peck from Grace. He'd take anything from her, and that was the problem.

But no more.

All's fair in love and war. And he'd played by the rules far too long when it came to Grace. But not this year. No, this year at midnight, he was going to take Grace in his arms, give her the kiss they were meant to share-long, slow, deep-look straight into her brown eyes and say, "Grace Devine, I've loved you my whole life. Nobody will ever love you the way I do. And I think it's time we take this beyond friendship."

Lewis would like to say more, would like to propose marriage if he didn't think it would send Grace into shock. Yeah, maybe better to ask for a date first.

He'd been coming back to Henderson for New Year's Eve ever since he first left to attend MIT. He attended the parties even after his parents retired, sold his childhood home, moved to Arizona and were co-hosts of the party in name only. He flew out and spent Christmas with them but he always made sure to make it home for the party on New Year's Eve.

And his kiss with Grace.

Darcy gave one final look in the mirror. She'd had her roommate, Susan, spend hours showing her how to curl her long, blonde hair so it looked like she'd just stepped out of a Real Housewives episode. She'd spent a fortune at the makeup counter in Macy's, buying anything they had put on her, careful to watch every swipe and swab the girl made to her face so she could replicate it tonight. She'd put her entire bonus check from the most recent video game she'd designed toward her dress.

And it showed. Black, with crystal beading all over it, shimmering with every movement. She absolutely loved it. The low cut neck was more daring than she was used to, and it'd taken Susan's extensive persuasive skills to talk Darcy into it, but she was glad she had.

And the shoes. Oh, the shoes! She'd bought them first, wearing them nightly around the apartment so she could learn to balance on the five inch, shimmery, glass slipper-looking Louboutins.

She twirled in front of the mirror, catching the light. Surely she'd catch Lewis's eye in this-the man was a sucker for shiny objects.

She picked up her phone-one last touch of technology-took a quick snapshot of herself and texted it to Susan, who was probably already on her way to whatever party she was going to in Boston. She didn't wait for a response, but did a final twirl to one of her long curls, grabbed her tiny bag, and walked out the door.

And straight into a human wall.

Lewis propped his tablet up on the dresser, turned to the nearby mirror, and pushed play for the YouTube video on how to tie a perfect bow tie. Annabelle had taught-or tried to teach-him how to do this several times, but apparently those brain cells were put to a different use.

It was a well-done, easy-to-follow video, and he was pleased with the results. He started to move to the bed where the coat of his tux lay, but turned back to his tablet instead.

He typed a quick message to the creator of the video, "Interested in doing how-to videos for my company? Email me.

[email protected]

/* */

"

He powered down the tablet, put on his jacket. He checked his phone and saw he'd missed a text from Tess earlier in the day. "Find me a date or you're kissing me at midnight, hot stuff."

Well, if he had to work finding Tess a date into his plans, so be it. Because it wasn't the oldest Devine sister he'd be kissing at midnight.

He put his phone into his pocket and stepped out of the bedroom and into the hallway. He'd gotten halfway down the hall when he remembered his keys, did an about face and ran smack into a tiny, blonde, shiny object.

Darcy stumbled back on her impossible heels, but managed to use the wall to keep her balance. She looked at Brooks, ready to rip him a new one for scaring her, only to realize that it wasn't her brother in the hallway of her parents' home, but the man for whom she'd spent the last three hours primping.

"Lewis? What are you doing here?"

He looked down at her, his brilliant mind trying to focus on what had just happened. "Who are...Munchkin?"

The old nickname stung, but she quickly regrouped. "Darcy," she corrected.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" He reached out as if to steady her and she leaned toward him, waiting for his touch. But he took that to mean she was balanced and dropped his hand.

"I'm fine," she confirmed. "What are you doing here?"

But he didn't answer; he was too busy looking at her.

Which should be something that made her happy, but his look wasn't one of lust and heat. No, it was analysis. A look she'd seen on his face for years-thinking, putting pieces into place, working out the puzzle.

His head leaned from the left, slowly to the right, as his brown-eyed gaze started at her glorious shoes, up her legs (made oh-so-more stellar by the shoes) to her sparkling dress. He moved past her bust line, then back to it and she felt a moment of triumph that stayed with her as his eyes rose up to her cheekbone-accented, buffed to perfection, face.

"You're not wearing your glasses."

Genius.

"I had Lasik," she replied, then did a tiny shimmer with her hips, drawing his eyes back to her dress.

He pushed his glasses up his nose, a habit she'd shared for far too many years. "Lasik, huh? I'm not a good candidate for it."

"Too bad. It totally helped me."

He tilted his head again, plugging in the lack of glasses, but still coming up without an answer.

"And my hair is different."

He stared at her hairstyle, nodding. "Yes. The hair. The glasses." It looked like it was coming together for him now. "You're so...so..." Darcy waited for it. Grown-up? Striking? "Shiny," he said.

Well, she couldn't argue with that.

"So, Lewis, you didn't answer me? What are you doing here?" Not that she wasn't happy to see him, but she'd planned on a big entrance at the Club as his introduction to the new Darcy-not him slamming her into a wall in her parents' hallway.

"Um..." he took one last look at her, obviously still filing away all the new facts, then looked her in the eye, ready to move on to his next train of thought. "Oh. Why I'm here. Brooks's place can only handle one guest right now, and it made more sense that Duncan crash with him and I stay here. Your parents invited me, of course."

"My parents know you're here? When did you get here?"

"Earlier today. I was over at Brooks's until I needed to get ready. And yes, they know I'm here. Your dad let me in, gave me a key, got me set up in Brooks's room."

"Oh," Darcy replied, trying to figure out why her mother hadn't said anything to her about Lewis being down the hallway. She'd been home for Christmas, but had to work the week in between, arriving back just a few hours ago. Still, she'd seen her mom downstairs when she'd come in.

"It's like old times being in there," Lewis stated, gesturing to Brooks's room. Darcy took the moment to do her own analysis. Designer tux, custom-fitted to his long, lean frame, which no doubt his assistant picked out for him. Lewis never cared about the fit-or label-of his clothes. His deep brown, wavy hair was cut in a spiky style that suited his nervous habit of running his hands through it as he thought-and he was always thinking. His glasses were so much better than the huge ones he'd worn through school. Sleek and square, they framed the brown eyes Darcy had fallen in love with so many years ago. His face had thinned out in his twenties. Now it was not quite chiseled, but he certainly didn't have the pudgy cheeks he'd had before.

So, Darcy wasn't the only one to have come out of a cocoon.

It didn't matter to her-she'd loved him as total geek, and now as geek chic.

Suddenly it dawned on her- he was staying two doors down from her! That wasn't anything new, Lewis had slept in Brooks's room hundreds of times.

But never on a night Darcy was bent on seducing him.

Well, okay, she'd wanted to seduce him many times back then, but she'd never actually done it. Tonight, she would.

She moved past him, brushing his sleeve with her arm. "I imagine there will be lots of 'seems like old times' moments tonight," she said. Stupid. Why bring up the past? It would only make him think of Grace Devine.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he said, moving to follow her down the stairs.

She tried to do a long, sultry glide down the staircase, but she hadn't practiced stairs in her shoe sessions. There weren't any at the Henderson Country Club and she hadn't planned on Lewis being in her house. Not that she was complaining.

"Although," he continued, "I'm looking to start some new times tonight."

She looked over her shoulder at him, "Me, too," she purred.

"Sore throat, Munchkin?"

She stumbled, but righted herself with the help of the banister that she'd watched Brooks and Lewis slide down a gazillion times.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, and quickly made her way down to the bottom, not risking looking back-or anywhere else but the stairs-again.

"Little girl, you are a beauty," her father, John, boomed as he and Darcy's mother, Ellen, made their way in from the living room. He wore his tux, which strained a bit at the buttons this year. Her mother looked beautiful in a navy blue gown and the diamond necklace Darcy's father had given her for their twenty-fifth anniversary six years ago. Her hair was just starting to gray at fifty-five and Darcy could only hope to have her genes.

"Thanks, Daddy," she answered, reaching the first floor and letting her father take her hand and twirl her. Twirling in the heels, she'd practiced plenty.

"Is she not the most beautiful girl you've ever seen, Lewis?" her father asked a bit loudly and Darcy wondered if maybe he'd popped the champagne a tad early.

"Oh, John," her mother said, with a swat to his arm.

"Well, she is. Beautiful. My baby. Right, Lewis?"

"Um," Lewis said, then turned to Darcy, looked her over once more. "Yes?"

Yeah, there was a questioning tone in his voice, but she'd still take it.

"Hello, Lewis, honey," her mother stepped forward and gave Lewis a hug and kiss on the cheek. "You look very handsome. How are your parents?"

"They're good. They said to wish you happy holidays."

"One of these years they'll have to come back for the party. It's not fair to you to have to carry the Kampmueller side."

"It's hard to get my dad out of Arizona in the winter."

"Well, hell, it's not like he can't play golf in Henderson year-round," her dad said.

Darcy didn't think her parents would leave North Carolina once they retired. Actually, she couldn't ever see her dad retiring. He loved the banking industry, even with all its recent ups and downs.

"Mrs. Devine pretty much handles it all on her own now, with a little help from my assistant. By the way, thanks again for offering up Brooks's room. It would have been really cramped over at his new place."

"How's it coming along, anyway? He won't even let me take a peek," John Bennett, control freak extraordinaire, commented.

"Can you really blame him?" her mother said with a smile. "We love having you here, Lewis. You know you're always welcome."

"But, really, Lewis, how's it coming over there? Has he got drywall up? Electrical, even?"

"We should probably leave. We don't want to be late," her mother commented.

Darcy noticed Lewis look at his watch. Was he counting down the minutes until he kissed Grace? Keep counting, bud, cuz it's going to be a different set of lips this year.

She still hadn't figured that part out, but if Lewis could devise a way to rig whatever contest the Devine sisters had going every year, then Darcy could figure out a way to rig it in her favor.

She did design games for a living, after all.

"So, Lewis, you'll take Darcy with you?"

"Um...but..."

"Great. See you at the Club," her father said and opened the door for his wife and exited the house. But not before she saw the look her parents exchanged with each other.

Those sneaky...absolutely awesome parents. Must be where she got her love of games.

"Let me just grab my wrap," she said and quickly found the organza shawl which was much too sheer for the end of December, even in North Carolina. But no way was she going to cover up this dress. She handed it to Lewis who held it up for her to step into. His brain didn't retain a lot of the social niceties, but he'd been raised by a former deb, and some things were just instilled in a Southern boy.

"Thank you," she said as he placed it upon her shoulders and she took up the ends.

"It doesn't seem like much protection," he said as he held the door open for her.

I hope not, she thought as they made their way to the car.