The Last First Kiss (Harlequin Special Edition) by Marie Ferrarella Page B

do you mean, ‘ha’?” she challenged, ready to go a few rounds with him right now, the party and her mother notwithstanding.
    “You were Kara Calhoun. You were invincible. As invincible,” he recalled, “as the comic-book heroine your dad named you after.”
    He’d thought that? Somehow, she found it difficult to believe. But then, if he didn’t believe it, why had he just said it? Agreeing to her fallibility would have been more in keeping with his regular behavior, at least as it applied to her.
    Something to puzzle over later, Kara told herself. Right now, they had mothers to fool.
    “All water under the bridge,” she said with a shrug, getting out of his car.
    Rising, he closed the door on his side. “Gee, that’s a clever saying. Mind if I use it sometime?”
    “And we’re back,” she commented. But rather than being cryptic, she coupled the comment with a grin that she flashed at him.
    A grin, Dave thought, that was oddly and perversely appealing. Which only meant that he needed to get in out of the sun before his brain was completely fried, he decided as he rounded the back of his vehicle and stepped onto the sidewalk next to Kara.
    “All right, let’s get this over with.” Then, pausing to brace himself—an exaggerated moment for her benefit—he took Kara’s hand in his.
    She leaned her head slightly into his and whispered, “It’d be a bit more romantic if your teeth weren’t clenched.”
    “Baby steps, Kara. Baby steps,” he replied as he walked toward the house.
    Kara did her best not to notice that when his hand enveloped hers, a strange feeling of well-being, of protection, washed over her. It was almost as if something inside her felt that all was well in heaven and God was in His kingdom.
    She would have philosophically chalked it up to preperformance jitters, except that she’d never had any, not even when she’d taken to the actual stage in elementary school. She was a ham and loved the spotlight, loved being the focus of attention. This, however, felt different somehow. She decided now wasn’t the time to explore why.
    “Showtime,” she murmured to Dave as they stood on the front porch, which was completely festooned with balloons.
    Dave said nothing as he rang the doorbell. A moment later, the door opened. Dave’s cousin Melissa was a tall, willowy, dark-haired woman with an easy, welcoming smile. A smile, Kara realized, that resembled Dave’s a great deal.
    Not that it mattered.
    “Kara,” she greeted her warmly. “Dave said he’d be bringing you.” Taking Kara’s free hand in both of hers, Melissa lowered her voice before continuing, “I can’t thank you enough for getting that game for Ryan. He’s talked about nothing else since he saw the first commercial for it two months ago. Every place I tried was sold out and told me they would be for weeks. My husband, Simon, and I really hated knowing he was going to be disappointed, but now because of you, he isn’t going to be.” Dave’s cousin underscored her statement by giving Kara a fierce hug.
    She was surprised that Dave had actually given her credit in this matter. Maybe he wasn’t as easy to read as she’d initially thought.
    Released from the bear hug, Kara brushed off the woman’s thanks quickly. “Part of the perks for working at a company that pays dirt,” she confided flippantly. “I brought Ryan a few other games,” she added, raising the shopping bag in her hand. “They’re all age-appropriate,” she assured Melissa.
    “I may never get Ryan to go to bed again.” Melissa laughed. “Just leave it on the birthday pile over there.” She pointed out a card table that had been set up on the side. Someone was calling her name and she was already withdrawing. “There are beverages in the kitchen and snacks all over the place. Please help yourself to anything you want.”
    Pointedly, if perhaps a beat belatedly, Kara looked at Dave and told his cousin, “I already have everything I want.”
    She