One in a Million

Page 61

“The guise of making sure my grandma’s okay?” she repeated. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me,” he said.

She stared at him. “You think I’m here for something else. Maybe to figure my shit out. But I’ve got my shit figured out.”

“Then why haven’t you been in a real relationship in the years since you were engaged?” he asked.

“Besides the fact that my job’s made me more than a little cynical? Hello, ditched at the altar,” she reminded him.

“So?”

She snorted. “Spoken by a man who’s never been left at the altar.”

“I was left by my wife,” he said dryly. “I think that counts.”

“But Elisa didn’t publicly embarrass you. I was ditched at the altar. Which makes me look pretty stupid. It means I can’t discern the difference between a bad-idea crush and being in love.”

He stared into her eyes. She actually believed that, as well as that she wasn’t meant for love. Which was bullshit. He’d never met anyone more meant for love—to both receive it and give it. “Callie, everyone’s allowed mistakes in the love game.”

She turned away. “Yeah, but I didn’t learn from mine.”

His hands settled on her shoulders and slid down to hold her hands. “What was that?”

“Nothing.”

He turned her to face him. “You said you didn’t learn from yours,” he said.

She blew out an exasperated sigh. “If you heard me, then why did you want me to repeat it?”

“Explain,” he said, not giving an inch.

“I fall in crush,” she said. “Not love. And then I try to make the crush something it’s not.”

“Eric not loving you back the way you deserved, that’s on him,” he said. “Not you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m sticking with low-key relationships.”

“So you’ll at least concede that what we’re doing here is a relationship,” he said.

She stared at him. “Maybe. But it’s not love, and it’s not going to be.”

He stared back, not sure how to argue that one.

“Is it enough for you?” she asked softly.

No. Hell, no. But because that made him feel like he’d just been hit by an M-60, he didn’t answer. Instead he pulled her close and did what they seemed to do best. He kissed her. He kissed her long and deep, doing his best to silence that little voice in his head that kept saying the right thing to do here was walk away…

But for the first time in his life he didn’t know if he could do the right thing, not even to save himself.

Callie couldn’t get enough of Tanner’s mouth or his hands and especially couldn’t get enough of his low groan of frustration just before he wrenched her sweatshirt over her head, taking her PJ top with it. Her bottoms went next, PJs, sweats, and panties all yanked down her legs in one hard tug. When she was bare-ass naked, he leaned over her and smiled a very naughty, very determined smile. Then his teeth closed over her nipple and a hand slid between her legs, and she gasped.

“Cold!” she said of his chilled fingers as they shifted, stroking the bare skin of her back now, sliding down to cup and squeeze her bottom, pulling her in against his wet self.

She sucked in a breath but couldn’t deny she was thrillingly aroused. Being naked against his fully clothed, unyielding body was incredibly erotic, and she clung to him as if he were her next breath of air, winding her fingers through his hair, forgetting about everything but this.

“Shower,” he said against her mouth. “I’ve made you cold, let’s go warm you up.”

Before she could say a word he stood, taking her with him. In the bathroom, he let her slide slowly down his body, eyes hot as he once again took charge, starting the shower, kicking off his shoes.

When he caught her staring, his eyes darkened even more and he yanked her into him while they waited for the water to heat. “What?” he murmured.

“I just like to look at you.”

“Right back at you, babe.”

She smiled, continuing to gaze up at him, memorizing each line on his face because this was going to be it. She knew that she couldn’t keep doing this and not lose her heart. God, she loved the way he looked at her, his gaze so fierce and intense, like she was the only woman for him. She loved the way his mouth twitched when he wanted to smile but was trying not to. And she especially loved the way his voice got all low and husky whenever he said her name.

She didn’t need to feel his body against her, hard, strong, rippling with power, to remember how much she loved it.

Or how she felt in his arms. Feminine. Desired.

Important…

The steam from the shower filled the bathroom and she moved to unzip his Lucky Harbor Charters wind jacket. Before she could push it off his shoulders, he reached into the pocket, pulled out two condoms, and tossed them onto the bathroom counter.

Then his jacket hit the floor. She peeled his wet running shirt upward, her fingers tracing his abs, his pecs, every inch that she revealed until she couldn’t reach any farther and he took over, tossing the shirt aside.

His pants were the next thing to go as he stripped in quick, economical movements, exposing his mouth-watering body to her in all its glory.

And there was a lot of glory.

He tipped her head up and then his mouth came down over hers, his tongue flicking out, tracing her bottom lip, seeking entrance and getting it when she gasped in pleasure.

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