Man Of Her Dreams. Patt Marr

didn’t believe it was. “Let me meet the guy. I’ll get the truth.”

      She headed for the house, her feathers bouncing. “I’m leaving. Happy New Year to you both.”

      Beth caught up with her, took her arm and said, “That was a fast half hour, wasn’t it? At thirty minutes to midnight, we thought we’d spend the rest of the year alone.”

      Meggy made a little choking sound.

      “Are you okay?” he asked, catching up to them. It was second nature for him to check out anything that didn’t sound healthy.

      “I’m fine,” she said, practically spitting her answer as she rushed to the house, leaving them behind.

      “Ready to face the music?” his sister asked, suddenly serious.

      “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

      “Don’t expect too much from Mom, Ry.”

      “Don’t worry, sis. She can throw me out, but I’ll still be glad I came.”

      “I’ll be close by,” she promised.

      It was good, having her here to shore up his courage.

      Inside the house, the sight of his uptight family decked out in their headgear made him laugh out loud. Most of the guests were his parents’ colleagues, people who held lives in their hands every day. No one would know it to see them choosing noisemakers and trying their blow-out horns. He’d come inside at just the right moment. Amid this pandemonium, he went unnoticed.

      He spotted his brother, Trey, with his arm around a woman who was probably his new wife. The two of them looked as if they could barely tolerate the bedlam. If Ry knew Trey, his brother would rather be in surgery—or having it.

      There was a drumroll going, and the trumpet guy tooted a fancy fanfare. Everyone started yelling the countdown to midnight. “Five-four-three-two-one,” and the band struck up “Auld Lang Syne.”

      And then, as if a neon sign blinked “Hug now,” everyone was embracing. Why his undemonstrative family needed the license of this one moment a year to express feelings, Ry would never understand. It was enough to enjoy it.

      He headed first for his mother. The way they’d left it, her greeting would gauge whether he was welcome here.

      “Happy New Year, Mom,” he said, taking her in his arms. She felt too thin, but that wasn’t new. What was new was the startled look of love in her eyes. Whatever he’d done to merit that, he’d like to know so he could do it again.

      “Ry,” she said, patting his face delightedly. “You’ve come home! I’m so happy.”

      All the love he’d felt as a little boy for his mother filled his heart. “I’m happy to see you, too, Mom,” he said, wishing this moment could last.

      She pulled his head down for a kiss on his forehead, and his knees almost buckled. When had she ever done that?

      “Thank you, Mom,” he managed to say. And then she was opening her arms to a guest he didn’t know.

      He went through the motions, hugging people he knew and people he didn’t, more aware of the intense emotion he still felt than anything else. He hugged Aunt Jackie who didn’t seem to recognize him, but gave him a juicy kiss on the cheek. Uncle Al shouted, “Happy New Year!” in his ear as if he were deaf, and a flamboyant blonde kissed him as if they were lovers.

      Rubbing his lips to remove the blonde’s lipstick, he spotted Meg making the rounds as he was and instantly felt much better. She was easy to keep track of, with the blue plumes of her party hat waving in the air. Man, she looked pretty. Her silvery-white dress showed off a figure just right for her size.

      “Give us a kiss, Ry,” Aunt Claire commanded, pulling him down to her level.

      At least she recognized him. He aimed a kiss at her cheek, but she turned her head and planted a wet one on his lips. Oh, man! Aunt Claire was a sweetheart, but did she have to do that?

      She moved on to another victim, and he looked for a non-relative babe. Now that Aunt Claire had shown him how to kiss, he ought to practice.

      He felt a touch on his arm. Behind him, Meg stood with a Happy New Year smile.

      “Happy New Year, Li’l Sis.” He took her in his arms for a regulation New Year’s kiss, just a little smooch like he’d given to Aunt Jackie and Aunt Claire.

      But the touch of Meg’s soft lips on his sent awareness shooting to his brain. Again, he kissed her softly, tentatively, the way a guy did in a first kiss.

      And that’s what it was, not a New Year’s kiss, but a genuine first kiss, the kind that had to be soft and slow and enjoyed in heart-racing pleasure. Her arms crept around his neck, and the feel of Meggy in his arms…

      Whoa! Meggy in his arms? Shame on him. He broke the kiss, wondering how he could explain this away.

      But he might not have to bother. She looked up at him with an expression that just about knocked him out. Big, blue and confused, her eyes said she’d felt the same jolt he had and didn’t know what to do with it, either.

      He owed it to both of them to find out. He lowered his head, eager to touch her lips again, to feel that same sweet awakening. On an unimportant level, he noticed that her dress sure was scratchy.

      He heard the sound of fireworks outside and knew that people passed by them on their way to the deck. From the sound of it, there was a happy celebration with exploding Roman candles and crackling sound. But right here was all the celebration his heart could stand. This was exactly where he wanted to be and what he wanted to do, getting to know Meggy in a brand-new way…her lips and his, adjusting to this new touch, these new feelings.

      “Hey, kids!” Uncle Charlie yelled, tapping Ry’s shoulder. “You’re missing the fireworks.”

      Not really. Not from Ry’s point of view.

      Meg slid her hands down his arms and pulled away, her eyes filled with awe. “Whoa!” She shook her head as if she needed the world to stop spinning.

      He knew exactly how she felt. That was the best kiss of his life, which made it absolutely terrific. He could still feel the buzz.

      “I can’t believe it,” she said softly.

      Neither could he. His first resolution of the new year was to stop calling her Li’l Sis. She would never be that or Meggy again.

      “Ry, you weren’t kidding. You always said you were ‘the greatest kisser in the world.’”

      He couldn’t have said that.

      “‘Practice makes perfect.’ That’s what you said, and, boy, were you right.”

      Wait a minute. This was not the reaction of a woman who’d felt the earth move the way he had. The feeling couldn’t have been all that one-sided. It didn’t happen that way, not in his experience.

      “I’ve always wondered about your technique,” she said, her eyes laughing at him.

      Laughing at him! Another zap in the heart. Maintain, he told himself. He couldn’t let her see that she’d put a knot in his ego and a bruise on his heart.

      “I am truly impressed,” she said, her eyes big. “You weren’t exaggerating a bit when you said you were the greatest.”

      No way would he let her get by with this. “You know, of all my students, you’ve achieved what no other has.”

      “What’s that?” Her eyes sparkled as if she enjoyed this more than the kiss.

      Shame on her for that. He had to scramble if he were going to save his pride. What could he say? The truth— that’s what a guy used when he came up with nothing.

      “Your kissing was so good,” he said, making it sound as if he were congratulating a little girl for coloring within