CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Kiss County Short Romances

  Also by Tabatha

  About the Author

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2024 by Tabatha Kiss

  All Rights Reserved. eBook Edition.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Subscribe to my Newsletter for FREE books!

  Visit tabathakiss.com/newsletter for more info.

  Do you have a map?

  I keep getting lost in your eyes.

  1

  TISH

  “Who’s the hot new bartender?” Lottie asks, her green eyes squinting as she peeks between mine and Mika’s shoulders.

  I flinch, nearly knocking my drink over as I spin in my seat to get a look at him myself. “There’s a new bartender?” I ask, scanning the counter across Sparks Pub. “Where?”

  “There.” Lottie points. “The guy in the white shirt.”

  I tilt left and right, trying to see around the people packed into the pub tonight. It’s the last weekend of summer here in Kiss County, and it seems like every local and tourist had the same idea for a night out as we did. Not a bad thing, usually. Karaoke night ain’t nearly as fun without the crowd. But tonight, all I see is couples, couples, couples, which highlights just how very single, single, single I am.

  Lately, it seems like everyone around me has fallen in love. Mika met Carter, a guy who was just passing through town until he passed through her. And then Lottie met Scott, a guy determined to sweep her off her feet and make all her dreams come true.

  Falling in love is just what people do here in Kiss County.

  Except me. Apparently.

  “There!” Lottie says, pointing once again.

  Finally, through the mix of locals and tourists alike, I catch sight of the white-shirted new guy behind the bar.

  Oh, hello...

  My spine tingles, my interest officially piqued. Even from all the way back here, I can tell he’s handsome with thick dirty-blond hair and bright eyes. Sharp cheekbones and a chiseled chin. The white shirt helps, too, brilliantly showcasing the hard muscles of his upper arms. He’s my age, from the looks of him. Just old enough to work behind the bar legally.

  “Tish?” I hear Mika say from... somewhere. “Oh, Tish?” A blur of a hand in front of my eyes and she laughs. “Yeah, she’s gone.”

  She and Lottie titter and tease, but as she said, I’m gone already. The new bartender moves from one side of the counter to the next, taking tabs and filling orders as if he’s always been here. But he definitely has not always been here. I spend most of my weekends and nights off at Sparks Pub. I’ve lived in Small Town my entire life. And I very much have never seen this man before.

  A song ends and the bar erupts in a round of applause for Brenda, the girl currently on stage. She’s not new in town, born and raised here just like me, but she’s new to my little corner of the world. She recently replaced Mika as a waitress at Bruno’s Diner, where Lottie and I still work. We instantly hit it off — especially once I found out she enjoys belting Britney and Taylor as much as I do.

  I snap out of my trance to add to her applause before she hops down off the stage. Dressed in a black mini-skirt and plum-colored top, Brenda weaves around the other tables to make her way to ours, her face beaming the entire way.

  “Wow,” she says as she approaches. “What a crowd, huh?”

  “Beginner’s luck!” I tease with a raised glass.

  “Don’t listen to her, Brenda,” Mika says, her blonde hair shifting as she shakes her head. “You were amazing.”

  “Yeah,” Lottie says, firing a teasing glance at me. “Tish is just jealous there’s a hot new pop princess in town.”

  I grimace, only slightly offended. “I prefer the term diva,” I say. “Princesses rarely earn their titles.”

  “But you earned yours?” Brenda asks, playing along as she adjusts her thick ponytail of strawberry blonde hair.

  As I stand, I take the last sip from my glass. “Let me show you how it’s done, girlies.”

  “Small Town,” a voice says through the speakers as I approach the stage, recognizably Jake, the owner of Sparks Pub. “Our next singer tonight needs no introduction. Come on, you all know her! Put your hands together for Tish Trav-iiiis!”

  A wave of shouts and applause crashes behind me and I smile, never tiring of that sound. I carefully step up onto the stage, mindful of the tall knee-high black boots I haven’t quite broken in yet. But they perfectly match my favorite vintage leather jacket, so I’m willing to risk potentially eating it in front of whatever eligible bachelors are still here after a fun and flirty summer like this one.

  “They’re all yours, Tish!” Jake says, his voice as ominous and detached from the space as the Wizard himself.

  “Thank you! Thank you!” I say, waving to the crowd as I reach the microphone stand.

  A laptop sits beside it, providing a list of tracks available for choosing, but I had my song picked out before I even walked through the door.

  I quickly adjust the microphone’s height, lowering it to be more level with my petite form while I wait for the clapping to subside. “Nice to see you, too,” I coo with confidence, flashing a wink beneath the bright spotlight above me. “I’m dedicating this song tonight to my friends at table three.”

  Mika, Lottie, and Brenda, dressed in girls’ night out perfection in fancy shoes and adorable sundresses, raise their glasses with a cheer.

  “Love you, too, ladies.”

  In the few seconds of silence before the song starts, I turn around, putting my back to the crowd and striking a pose, prompting a few whistles throughout the bar.

  The song blares from the speakers; a popular country-pop anthem from my mother’s generation, but one that most everyone knows the words to. Not my usual go-to, admittedly, but sometimes, a girl’s just gotta twang.

  With eyes closed, I bring the microphone to my lips, and I sing. The song starts slow and low; the lyrics flowing out of me from memory alone. I don’t even look at the screen perched off to the side. Instead, I focus on them.

  My audience.

  As the song picks up and the chorus rises, I turn to face them. With my feet planted and my soul open, I sing to them, my face etched with a near-permanent smile. My heart pounds with adrenaline; the thrill of performing coursing through me. All the love I belt out comes right back to me as shouts and applause. A few groups start clapping with the beat, the infectious action spreading fast as the second verse rips through the bar.

  I scan every table in view. I wink and smile, enjoying every moment of my stardom. Sure, it’s just Small Town. It’s just Sparks Pub. But this is my town. This is my pub. It’s the last weekend of summer and, honey...

  I ain’t going home alone tonight.

  As the chorus builds again, my eyes catch on a man standing behind the bar.

  The hot new bartender.

  He’s looking right at me.

  While everyone else around him claps to the rhythm, he stands with his arms folded over his chest. A real stick in the mud, I’d assume, if it weren’t for the obvious smirk etched into his mouth.

  I flash him a wink and his brow twitches.

  Time for the big finish.

  I strike another pose and, using every bit of air in my lungs, I extend the final note for longer than necessary. But the Sparks Pub crowd loves that shit, and they reward me with a standing ovation that brings a smile to my face.

  “Thank you!” I say, bowing. “Thank you so very much.”

  Resisting the toxic urge to literally drop the mic, I place it safely back on its stand before blowing the crowd a kiss and — carefully — stepping down.

  Returning to our table, I give the girls one more bow.

  “Damn!” Brenda says. “You’re so good, Tish.”

  “Little over the top tonight, I’d say,” Lottie teases. “But good.”

  “Oh, shut up,” I say as I sit down. Before I can reach for the glass of water in front of me, another glass touches the table by my hand.

  Amaretto sour. My favorite.

  I look up and into the eyes of Small Town’s hot new bartender.

  Oh, my...

  Blue eyes. Very blue.

  The table goes quiet.

  “Oh,” I say, my breath held. “I didn’t order this.”

  He looks me over, those sinful eyes quickly hopping from my face to my chest and back again. “It’s on the house,” he says, his voice deep enough to do cannonballs into.

  I swallow hard. “Thank you,” I say. “I appreciate that.”

  He says nothing. He merely gives the other girls a quiet nod and walks off, briskly making his way back toward the bar.

  I check out his ass as he goes.

  Tight blue jeans. Good choice.

  Brenda loudly clears her throat to get my attention.

  With a smirk of my own, I pick up the amaretto sour and take a sip. “See ?” I say, feeling cocky. “That’s how it’s done, girlies.”

  They laugh as I twist around, eager to make eye contact with him again. Back behind the bar, he walks from one end to the other, his attention on everyone but me.

  Until the last moment before I look away, and he glances over and smiles.

  Hot damn.

  I’m in love already.

  2

  TISH

  Shortly after my stunning show-stopper, the other girls begin to subtly check the time. Stifling a yawn, Mika stands up first, insisting she has to get up early tomorrow to help her father at Two Hearts Inn, her family’s business. But I can read the truth written all over her face: she misses Carter.

  Even Lottie’s expression brightens with the thought that she’ll soon be back at home, curled up in Scott’s arms, their children fast asleep down the hallway.

  At least Brenda is single. But she’s also opening at Bruno’s tomorrow morning, so when she finally rises to take her leave, I don’t stop her.

  “You sure?” she asks, adjusting her handbag by her hip. “You won’t be too lonely?”

  I glance toward the bar and smile. “Nope.”

  She follows my gaze with a laugh, and then sighs. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight,” I say, giving her a wave.

  Not wanting to linger too long at the empty table, I stand up and make my way toward the bar. It’s a far easier task now than it was an hour ago, the night growing darker and darker. Small Town stays open late during the summer, our prime tourist season, but this being the last weekend of summer means the locals are growing tired. Most just want the whole thing to be over and done with.

  Myself, however...

  I get the feeling my summer fun has only just begun.

  Zeroing in on the hot new bartender like a hawk, I perch myself on an empty bar stool not two feet away from him. I check my reflection in every mirrored surface around me, making sure my auburn hair hasn’t developed a mind all her own. Satisfied, I sit and wait for him to finish his task and take notice.

  It doesn’t take long.

  He looks up from his business at the cash register, his hands still counting a stack of dollar bills as he says, “Hi.”

  “Hello.”

  “I’ll be right with you.”

  I smile in response, letting him get back to his counting. Once finished, he pushes the drawer closed and sidles a step to his left, planting himself in front of me, the bar counter the only border between us.

  “You’re new in town,” I say. “What’s your name?”

  “Riley,” he answers.

  “Riley what?”

  “Ripley.”

  “Cool name. It’s nice to meet you, Riley Ripley.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

  “Aren’t you going to ask me my name?”

  “I know your name,” he says. “It’s Tish. Tish Travis.”

  “How’d you know that?”

  “Jake announced it earlier.”

  “Oh. Right.” I keep my shoulders from sinking too far. “That makes sense.”

  Riley leans forward, gently placing his elbows on the bar as he looks me over the same way he did before. This time, however, I’m close enough to see the finer details of his features in the light, from the specks of green in his blue eyes to the line of soft freckles dashed along his upper cheeks.

  “You have a nice voice, Tish,” he says.

  I smile, never tired of hearing that. “Thank you.”

  “Where’d you learn to sing like that?”

  “People learn to sing?”

  “Typically, yes.”

  “Oh, well, I just do it,” I say. “Songs got notes, and so do I.”

  “Rare talent,” he says.

  “I guess. Do you sing?”

  “A little.”

  “Sing something for me.”

  Riley tilts back. “No.”

  “Why not?” I say, leaning forward over the bar. “I sang for you.”

  “You sang for everyone,” he argues playfully.

  I point over my shoulder toward the stage. “Night’s still young. Fire up the mic and show me what you got.”

  “Think I’ll pass, actually.”

  “Why?” I say, keeping my teases light. “Are you shy?”

  Riley takes it well, his handsome eyes still playing with mine. “I’ll tell you what,” he says, dodging the question. “Come back to my place with me, and I’ll sing something just for you.”

  I arch a brow, interested. “Wow, you jumped right for it, didn’t you?” I ask.

  He chuckles, his smile warm enough to melt chocolate. “It’s Kiss County. I figure if I don’t, someone else will.”

  “That’s probably true,” I say. “Some are a bit more subtle about it, though.”

  “Not my strong suit.”

  “Nor mine.” I press my smiling lips together. “How long have you been in town?”

  “Two days, give or take.”

  “What brought you here?” I ask.

  “To piss off my dad, mostly. And curiosity,” he answers, leaning his side against the bar as he speaks. “I grew up just north of here. Thought Small Town would be a nice change of pace.”

  “You from Big City?”

  “Close. Pleasant Place.”

  I grimace. He laughs.

  “I know, I know,” he says. “Suburban hellscape. But it was fine.”

  “Why would moving to Small Town piss off your dad? Since you brought it up,” I add, in case the question is too personal.

  “He wants me to finish school,” he answers. “I dropped out and moved down here instead.”

  “What school?”

  “Big City Tech. Dad’s a software engineer or... something,” he says, scoffing. “Hell, who knows what he does? I sure don’t, nor do I care to learn it.”

  “You’d rather be a bartender in Small Town?” I ask.

  He leans over again, his arm brushing against mine. “I’d rather live life on my terms,” he answers. “At the moment, that includes being a bartender in Small Town, yes.”

  I nod, understanding. “I get it.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m not exactly ambitious, either.”

  “What do you do?” he asks. “You going to school?”

  “School? Hell, no. I’m a waitress and I sing karaoke on weekends while I wait to be discovered.”

  “Discovered?”

  “It’s inevitable,” I say, grinning. “Or I like to think it is. I like to fantasize about there being some fancy talent scout in the crowd one night. They’ll hear me sing and they’ll take me up to Big City, where I’ll perform on stage at the Cupid’s Corner Bar.”

  “That’s a good bar,” he says.

  “It’s the best bar,” I say. “It’s where everyone makes it big. And when I finally get there, I’ll become rich and famous and I’ll take my mother away from Small Town and we’ll live in luxury for the rest of our days.”

  Riley nods along. “Sounds nice.”

  “It does. You still want to sing me a song?”

  He smirks, a touch of blush grazing his cheeks. “I’m off in ten minutes,” he says. “If you still want to hear it.”

  “I do.”

  “Then, I’ll go finish counting down my drawer,” he says, stepping back, “and I’ll meet you here in ten.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  With that, Riley re-opens the cash register. He slides the drawer out and turns, his eyes on me the entire time as he steps into the back with it.

  Once he’s gone, I kick my toes against the leg of my stool and squeal a little.

  This night just keeps getting better and better.

  Ten minutes pass before Riley steps out of the back again, this time with Jake by his side. Jake gives me the slightest of nods and runs a tired hand through his shaggy black hair. I sit back, not wanting to interrupt whatever instruction he’s leaving Riley with.

  After a minute, Jake glances over again. “Have a good night, Tish,” he says.

  “You, too, Jake,” I say. “See you next weekend.”

  He voices a grunt and walks into the back again, leaving Riley and me alone.

  “I can never tell if his grunts mean something good or something bad,” he says.

  “Good, usually,” I answer. “You get used to it.”

 

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