“Not if you don’t know about it,” he laughed and set his beer aside, before adding, “Kent almost talked me into going to the track that day. Said he’d dreamed about a horse’s number. We’d be rich. Man almighty, I was glad I didn’t get sucked into that little fantasy. He didn’t see the light of day for a month, your parents were so angry.”
“And he made our lives miserable for it,” she said, curling her legs to the side on the booth, one elbow on the white laminate tabletop.
“Yeah,” he said, and seemed to be thinking back in time before he laughed again. “Yeah, he really did. But those were some good times. Kent and I…we didn’t talk much while I was away, but we’re good now. Just like I was never gone. Last Saturday he slept out at the Hotzone so he could do my Sunday sunrise jump with me.”
“Mom is beside herself that you’re staying in that beat-up trailer rather than with them, you know. I told her you had reasons.” She made an uncomfortable sound. “I didn’t mention the ‘reasons’ were all about avoiding me.”
“It’s not about avoiding you, and the trailer isn’t as bad as I’m sure Kent has made it sound,” he said. “I’m officially the only one of the three Hotzone owners who’s still single. Bobby and Ryan both got themselves married up. I’m the logical Ace to take some of the extra workload. And living on-site helps. They’d do it for me if it were reversed, and one day I’ll need time off, and they’ll cover for me. We’re blood brothers. We’ve all saved each other’s lives more times than I can count.”
Shay sobered sharply on the mix of the tequila she sucked through her straw and the words saved each other’s lives. Her throat constricted, and she barely kept from choking. Shay sat up straight, shoved away the drink, then hoarsely confessed, “I worried about you. I worried a lot.”
His expression softened, his eyes gently touching hers. “Shay…”
He reached for her hand, and she pulled back, fiddling with the napkin in her lap. She didn’t want to get emotional. She hadn’t expected to get emotional. But here were the emotions, overtaking her, demanding notice. And the words—his, and now hers—that seemed to flow of their own accord. “The thought of something happening to you, and then not only losing you, but knowing it was because I’d pushed you away—it ate me alive, especially that first year you were gone. After that, I learned to tuck it away, but there were times, especially after you came home to visit and left again—not that you did that all that often—but after a visit, it would start again. The fear of the phone ringing with bad news. Mom felt it. Dad and Kent, too, but they’re too tough to admit it.”
He sat completely still for several seconds, so still she wasn’t sure he even breathed. And she was pretty sure she’d hit that button—the hot-cold button. The one where he withdrew, where they went back to the not-talking thing they did so well.
And then suddenly, he was beside her, in the booth facing her, his expression etched with tenderness…and something that almost resembled guilt. “I should have talked to you before I left. I should have made sure you didn’t feel that kind of fear and guilt. You didn’t run me off, Shay. The Army was in my blood—I knew that before I started college and I knew afterward. I always knew it was where I belonged.”
But not with her, she thought, not with her family. “Then why are you here now? Why did you even come home?”
He hesitated. “Shay—”
His hesitation said everything. “Because you didn’t have a choice,” she said tightly, turning to face him fully, arm on the table, back to the wall. “Something happened. Something that forced you out.”
His lips thinned, telling her before his words that she wasn’t going to like his answer. “If I hadn’t been ready to get out,” he said, “I wouldn’t have.”
“What happened?” she asked tightly.
“Yes, there was an issue. I helped bring a corrupt person to justice. Something I couldn’t do when he had the ability to influence my missions. I could have transferred, but the Flying Aces—my unit—was it for me.”
Why was this bothering her? Had she really believed in some far off corner of her mind that he’d come back for her? It was silly, but it was there, a part of her subconscious that had whipped its ugly, irrational head into full view.
She turned toward the table, and he took her hand, stalling her movement. But she didn’t give him time to say whatever he was going to say. “Months and months would pass, and we had no idea if you were alive.” Eight long months the year before last. “I hate you for making me worry. Us. Making us worry.”
“I’m sorry.” His fingers brushed her jaw, a gentle caress that sent chills down her spine. “I’m here now,” he said. “I could have gone anywhere in the world, but I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere, Shay.” He laced his fingers with hers. “And I’m done hiding from a kiss. We were kids when it happened. And I believed, back then, if we’d pursued something more, we would have done nothing but destroy each other—and our family—in the process. We had everything to lose by acting on our attraction.” He brought her knuckles to his lips. “But we’re not kids anymore.”
“And yet so little has changed,” she said.
“Hasn’t it?”
The jukebox started playing a soft Keith Urban tune. He smiled. “Let’s dance.” And before she could reply, he tugged her forward.
“Dance?” she murmured, looking for a dance floor she’d missed. Where the heck were they going to dance?
The answer was soon evident as he drew her to a halt in the dimly lit deserted corner just beyond the jukebox and a vacant pool table. A good ways from the few lone pool players at a distant table.
His hands settled on her waist. Firm. Possessive. Strong. Objections faded on her tongue, the words of the song that had enticed them to the dance floor forgotten. In their place, other reasons hummed through her mind, explaining why this dance was okay. They were in public. There were people nearby. A dance was a moment in time in the broad picture of things.
But as the stark desire in his expression mingled with the heady male scent of him, which invaded her senses, seducing her, a spell overcame her—a spell where reason didn’t breathe, let alone live. A spell that expanded in time, yet felt like only a split second—a second gone too fast.
They stood there, unmoving, staring at one another. His hand slid to her back, gently urging her closer. Their legs aligned, then entwined, intimately placing her hips against his. Shay swallowed hard at the instant heat swirling low in her stomach, and her gaze dropped to his chest, to where her hands rested.
Slowly, her fingers splayed wide on the hard muscle. This was happening. She was touching him, was with him, in his arms, and neither of them was saying no. It was so surreal—it was almost an out-of-body experience. Except her body most definitely wanted in on this action.
Shay slowly slid her hands upward, his body heat warming her palms, and her gaze lifted to his. Her fingers laced at his neck, her chest naturally arching more intimately into his. Their bodies began to sway, the song—another song—slow still, filling the air, but she didn’t hear the words. Shay didn’t see the room. But neither could she maintain their stare, not when the intensity of what he did to her was downright unnerving.
Shay pressed her head to his chest, heard the rapid beat of his heart, as surely as she felt the hard ridge of his erection pressed against her stomach. He was right. They weren’t kids anymore. Everything had changed.
His hands traveled around her back, caressing, before resettling at her waist, his touch possessive and strong, his fingers sensually trailed her ribs, just below her breasts. Driving her crazy with anticipation of where they might travel. Shay pressed her hands then over his at her waist. Squeezed her eyes shut at the tightening of her nipples, the desire willing her to direct his hands where she wanted them. Not caring where they were. Ten years of foreplay apparently had consequences. She’d never felt so erotically charged and lost—not in private, let alone in public. And with what little reason she had
remaining, Shay knew she had to end this, to get out of here before she did something she would regret.
Her gaze lifted to his, a plea meant to say, no more. Stop. “Caleb,” she whispered, and the word was again a plea, but not the one intended. This was a plea for something else, a plea for more of him. A plea that had her pressing to her toes, stretching for his mouth. A plea he answered.
Caleb’s fingers slid into her hair, his mouth lowering, a brush of lips, innocent enough for public display until it wasn’t innocent at all. Shay had no idea what happened, hardly remembered anything except the burn for more. More of him.
One minute they were on the dance floor. The next she was in the corner, hidden by the jukebox, back against the wall, and Caleb was kissing her. She was kissing him. Wild passionate kissing. Her leg was wrapped around his, her hand in his hair. His hand curved over her backside and pulled her tight against his hips, settling the hardness of him into the V of her body. Shay moaned into his mouth at the feel of the thick bulge of his erection. At the feel of his hand finally on her breast. Her hand on top of his telling him not to stop. But he did stop—tore his mouth from hers—and she whimpered from the loss. He framed her face with his hands, stared at her a long, hard moment and then moaned at whatever he saw in her face—the unmasked passion she knew was there. And then he kissed her again. Yes, more. But it was short, passionate—over too soon.
He grabbed her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
She tried to pull against him, her body screaming in demand. No. Stay. Kiss. Touch. But he was strong, insistent, and she followed, rounding the jukebox, and she blinked reality back into view. Heat rushed across her cheeks. There was a pool game going on at the far end of the room. People nearby. And she hadn’t cared, and wasn’t sure she would care if Caleb pulled her right back behind that jukebox. She barely recognized herself; she’d never be so daring.
Her head was still spinning when Caleb opened the truck door and kissed her quickly—but no less passionately—before helping her climb into the cab. Darkness surrounded her, anticipation of what came next. A tiny sliver of reason said, Not tonight—he’ll wake up with regrets and so will you. But Caleb was already climbing inside the truck, and all she could think of was how close he was, and how easy it would be to touch him again. How much she wanted to.
He stared out the window but didn’t start the engine. He sat there. She sat there. Sexual energy clawed at her, at them, expanding until she thought the windows would burst. And then, he slid the keys into the ignition and started the engine. When he paused, she thought he’d changed his mind, but he reached for her and pulled her to his side, their legs aligned. Her hand on his thigh.
His fingers wrapped around her neck, and he pressed his forehead to hers. “In case you start thinking too much. We’re done thinking.”
And then he put the truck in gear.
9
WITH ONLY A SHORT one-mile drive from the restaurant to Shay’s house, the sexual tension still ran plenty thick between them, and Caleb intended to keep it that way. No more thinking. No more wondering. He killed the engine in the driveway of her house, and before she had time to react, he turned to her, pulled her into his arms and kissed her. There was no way he was leaving her tonight. Whatever was, or wasn’t, between them…it was time to find out.
He claimed her mouth with possessiveness, hot and firm, leaving no room for argument. And for a fraction of a second, she hesitated in her response, then moaned, sinking into the kiss. He eased his demand into a slow, sensual dance of tongue against tongue. Savoring her. Savoring the night. Not concerned if he slept, not when Shay was finally in his arms.
Her taste seduced him, climbed inside him and awakened something he didn’t know existed. A place where sex wasn’t just a destination, where you visited and departed, or an escape from a jungle in some hellhole. It felt like an emotional need. She felt like an emotional need.
“Caleb,” Shay whispered against his lips, her fingers pressing into his chest, as if she wanted to push him away but instead absorbed him. His lips brushed hers again, and she breathed, “Wait.”
But he didn’t wait, because he felt her tension, could almost hear her thinking, finding reasons—as they both had a million times before—to pull back. To leave this “thing” between them—whatever it was—untouched.
Caleb deepened the kiss, his hand sliding up her back and molding the lush curves of her breasts against his chest. Holding her, touching her, his body pulsed with need, his cock thick with demand. He wanted inside her, wanted it as much as he wanted his next breath. But not as much as he wanted to take his time, as he wanted to enjoy every last second of this first time with Shay. And he wanted her to enjoy it, wanted to make her forget to worry.
His tongue glided deeply into her mouth, stroked and prodded with the reminder of how good they felt together, with the promise that he could wash away more than her objections, but also her fears. He was rewarded with another of her soft moans—damn, he really loved those moans. He wanted her more than he remembered ever wanting anyone in his life. Hell, he felt like he’d wanted her his entire life.
His hand stroked the silky strands of her floral-scented hair. “Let’s go inside,” he murmured, already opening the door and gently dragging her across the seat with him.
But she didn’t go willingly. “No, wait,” Shay objected again, latching a hand onto the steering wheel to halt her progress. “We can’t go back once we do this.”
“Good,” he said firmly. “I don’t want to go backward.”
“But we—”
He framed her face with his hands, cutting her words off with actions, pinning her in a stare and a firm but gentle demand. “Do you want me?”
“That’s not the—”
“Do you want me?” he repeated softly.
“You know I do,” she whispered.
“And I want you. Very much, Shay.”
A tormented expression touched her face. “Until tomorrow morning.”
“Again tomorrow morning,” he promised. “You can say what you will about temptation and forbidden fruit, but it’s been ten years, and we’re still here, better and hotter than ever. That means something, Shay.” He brushed his thumbs over her cheeks, emotion welling in his chest. “And ten years ago, I walked away because I had to. It wasn’t our time. We were too young. We would have crashed and burned. But it’s our time now, Shay. Here. Tonight.”
One second. Two. Her chin lifted in a familiar, defiant motion. “That’s not what you said this afternoon.”
“I was doing what we’ve both been programmed to do. Run from our attraction. The same way I’m programmed to hear gunfire without flinching. We’re both programmed to see each other and go into avoidance mode.” His hands settled on her legs, his voice deepened into a confession. “The minute I saw you today, I knew I’d stayed away because it was the only way I’d resist you. Then you came in, offering me a kiss. I was trying everything I could to maintain control.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “We both need resolution. We both need to know why we can’t let this go.
“There were times over the past ten years when I was in places as close to hell as it gets. Hurt. Running for my life. Certain I wouldn’t make it. I needed something to cling to that was good. Something that gave me hope. Today, when I was watching you by the pool, helping your mother unwrap gifts, you were smiling and laughing, and I remembered what that good thing was. It was you, Shay. I’d picture your smile…your laugh.” His lips lifted slightly, his hand slid to her cheek. “Your dagger-throwing, angry stare when you wanted to kill me. All that means something, and I want to know what.”
Her hand went to his wrist, her voice crackling with emotion. “Me? You thought of me?”
“More times than you can possibly imagine,” he said. Now that he’d unraveled this web, he wasn’t going to tangle it with unspoken words. He’d spent ten years holding back. No more.
She touched his face, fingers trailing ove
r his jaw. “Let’s go inside.”
SHAY TRIED TO OPEN her door, but her normally steady hand shook with the effort. Caleb said something behind her, but she couldn’t focus for the thunder of her heart in her chest, radiating into her ears. Couldn’t think for the musky, male scent so uniquely Caleb, lifting in the humid night air and thickening. To say that she was terrified she might be making the wrong choice by acting on her desire for Caleb was an understatement. She was scared to say yes to tonight with Caleb, and scared to say no.
Caleb reached around her and took her key. Helplessly, she accepted the aid and fought the urge to lean back on him. That leaning on him felt safe said a lot. Her parents had taught her to be strong and independent, to lean on those you trust, and be picky about who was inside that circle. Caleb was in that circle. No other man ever had been. He’d seen her strong, seen her weak. Heck, he’d tended to her annual stomach flu when she’d been death warmed over.
Caleb’s lips brushed her neck, and she realized she was doing more than thinking about leaning on him. She was leaning on him, her body resting against his bigger, harder one. He’d known she needed a minute, known not to push her.
Caleb turned the doorknob and she darted forward, nerves working a number on her. Awkward without her purse, which she normally dropped on the hall table, she pressed her hand to her face. She’d wanted this—wanted Caleb—for so long. Even when she’d denied wanting him, she realized now, she had, indeed, wanted him. She’d spent so much time feeling guilty for that desire, for driving him away, that this—here, now—felt somehow wrong. Like a bad deed that would be punished.
Shay swung around to face Caleb, finding him close—so tall and broad and gorgeous, she almost forgot what she’d intended to say. He reached for her. Somehow, she retained some logic and stepped backward. If he touched her, she’d forget everything but him. She’d forget that talk they’d never had. They had to have that talk. “What if we regret this?”