A Fine Mess (Over the Top) by Kelly Siskind Page A

her toe with mine. “Quiet. I’m not done.” Numero seis. I clear my throat. “Although the man loved his wife more than anything, he pawned the ring. He knew it was special. He hoped the next person to buy it could be as lucky in love as he was.”
    That stops the eye rolls.
    She looks at the ring, then at me, then back and forth again.
    Her lips part. Her chest rises.
    Sirens ring: DEFCON 1.
    I’m a thrill seeker. Cliff jumping, fast cars, steep slopes—you name it, I love it. The adrenaline rush gives me Spidey-sense, and my pulse shoots from one hundred to 220 in ten seconds flat.
    Leaning in to kiss Lily is like skydiving without a chute.
    I don’t give her time to turn me down, not a moment for either of us to overthink. Heart in my throat, I taste her lips. Yep, strawberry . She’s soft and tentative, then eager, a whimper escaping when our tongues swipe. I grip her harder and walk until I have her pressed against a table. She tugs my hair. I grab her ass. The next whimper is louder, the sound shredding what’s left of my self-control. I need to hear what other sounds she makes, need to hear her fall apart. Will she chant my name or pray to her maker? Will she scream or groan? Our mouths move faster, hands greedier, my jeans barely containing me. If I don’t stop soon, we’ll be giving these antiques enough stories for another century.
    By the time I pull away, she’s swallowed my heart.
    We’re both breathing hard, her lips full and swollen from our kiss, my arms itching to get around her again. Mine, mine, mine. She touches the ring on her finger as another mucus-filled cough sounds out, closer this time.
    “That piece has a tragic story.”
    I swivel toward the voice, but our Oz is still a no-show. Then I glance lower. Dwarf? Little person? I’m unsure on the PC term, but the guy in question would maybe reach my chest. Considering I’ve been reduced to the Tin Man, I could go with Munchkin.
    Tufts of white hair circle his bald head, round glasses perched on his nose. He pulls a handkerchief up to his mouth and practically coughs up a lung. “Apologies,” he says when he catches his breath. “Emphysema.”
    Neither of us says a word. I don’t know about Lily, but my focus is on how quickly I can get her out of here and out of those clothes.
    Superpower wish: X-ray vision.
    Oz nods to the ring she’s wearing. “It arrived a week ago. The woman was frantic to be rid of it. I believe she’d caught her husband in a compromising position.” He pauses for effect, and my libido nose-dives.
    Of course she chooses the ring of a philanderer.
    “I contacted her yesterday to share some information,” he continues. “I’d learned some history about the ring, but I was given the most distressing news. The woman had taken her life. Sad when love turns on you.” He presses his handkerchief to his lips but doesn’t cough. When the moment passes, he glances around the shop. “Some of these pieces have tragic stories, some joyful, but they all speak.”
    Cheating. Divorce. The fallout.
    Great timing, dude.
    The awareness of what I could do to Lily renews, and the empty cavity that housed my heart clamps shut. She removes the ring, and I step back, the energy between us frosting over.
    Oz shoos Caesar away with a clap of his hands, then he sighs. “Shame on me, sharing mournful tales. Not the best sales tactic, I’m afraid. I get caught up in the history of things. Do you need help finding anything specific?”
    I fold my arms, unable to face Lily. I just kissed her and obliterated a line that can’t be uncrossed. She has my heart, for fuck’s sake. With the touch of our lips, we each gained the ability to destroy the other. A superpower I’d rather not have. It’s a good thing Oz stopped things from going further.
    She touches my elbow. “I think Hayley would like the jewelry box. And I’d get Hazel the brush-and-mirror set. The engravings on the backs are beautiful.” She points to the pieces,