Shameless With Him

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  “I might do anything for her. However, if she keeps pissing me off about this whole wedding planning thing, I might not.”

  “I don’t believe you. I think if she asked, you’d do it in a heartbeat.”

  “Pregnancy scares me, babies scare me, what comes out of babies scares me. So, no, I’m not a shoo-in for that. And she has to ask first. Adoption might be key for them, you know that they want to save the world together and be the perfect family. Adoption might be part of that.”

  “Maybe. But, hell, that’s a big decision.”

  “Yes, so I’m not going to think about it again. Nor am I going to think about exactly what your brother’s holding right now.” She closed her eyes, and I looked over to see Dimitri holding a diaper, smelling it, and groaning. Wincing.

  “This is way too weird for me. Plus, all the cheese? I just don’t understand it.”

  “I think it’s kind of cute that they have such a detailed inside joke that it’s burst into this entire event. Plus, I like cheese.”

  “But just don’t bring up soft cheeses, or Thea is liable to beat the crap out of you.”

  “Perhaps. I don’t know her all that well since she lives down here in Colorado Springs. Still, now that she’s part of your family and Amelia brings me everywhere these days, I’m getting to know her well.”

  “She’s family now. She’s a Carr. Not a Montgomery.”

  “Still a Montgomery,” one of the big Montgomerys said from beside me, and I shook my head.

  “I have no idea which one that was.”

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to know. I think they all just answer to Montgomery and speak as one.”

  “We heard that,” one of the Montgomerys said, and I was pretty sure that one was a twin.

  “And on that note, I think I’m ready to head out,” I said, shaking my head.

  “You’re heading home?” Zoey asked.

  “Yeah, I’ve got a few things to do for work and an early morning. I told Dimitri I wouldn’t be able to stay for long. But I stayed for some cake, and they got my gift.”

  “Do you think you can take me home?” she asked quickly, and I froze, my cock going hard thinking about being near Zoey for so long.

  “Didn’t you drive here with Amelia and Tucker?”

  “Yes, but they’re going to stay a little bit later, and I was going to ask you anyway if you wanted to drive me home. Or if you could. Or I was going to ask anybody who was going up to Denver early if they could. You know, work and all that. And wedding planning.”

  She was rambling, and I didn’t understand why. However, I didn’t really care. I was going the same direction as she was, and it was over an hour-long drive. Alone in a car. With Zoey. The woman I wanted my hands on, and the one I should really stop touching. Stop kissing. Stop thinking about. When I didn’t know what was going on with my future, I shouldn’t be doing anything stupid like thinking about having sex with Zoey.

  And yet, that’s all I kept thinking about. That and making her smile.

  I held back a frown at that thought. Where had that come from?

  I wasn’t going to think about that now. Instead, I was just going to do my best and not be an asshole.

  I could do that, right?

  “Sure, let’s let one of my siblings know that we’re heading out, and I’ll get you home.”

  Zoey grinned. “Thank you. I appreciate it. Totally.”

  “No problem. I’ll always be here for you, Zoey.”

  She gave me a weird look, but then I went off to find Dimitri or Devin to let them know what was going on. Tucker was the first one I found, and he shared a look between him and Amelia before nodding and letting me know that he would let everyone else know where we were going.

  I walked out to my car with Zoey, and we got in, doing our best to talk about nothing important.

  The fact that we knew we should probably talk about the two kisses and what could have happened between us meant that we should have been talking about something more. Instead, we talked about the weather and what was streaming. And the new cast of The Crown. We talked about nothing important.

  And that scared the hell out of me.

  Because I could never tell what was going on with Zoey. Even though I really wanted to.

  “That was a nice baby shower,” Zoey put in when we were almost home.

  “It’s so strange that Dimitri is going to be a dad now. In my head, he’s sort of always been one, even though he’s not even a little bit.”

  “Right? He has those dad qualities. He’s really good at the dad jokes.”

  “I’m pretty sure he gets those off the internet.”

  “But the fact that he looks them up at all is a dad thing.”

  “Okay, I can agree with that.”

  “Caleb?” Zoey asked, and my hands tightened on the steering wheel at the way she said my name. Hell, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like where the rest of this conversation was headed.

  “Yes?”

  “What are we doing?” she asked, and I swallowed hard. Yep, I really didn’t want to have this conversation.

  “I’m driving you home.” I got off the highway and headed towards her neighborhood.

  “Yes, you are. But I was sort of talking about the kisses at my house, and the fact that we practically humped each other in my mother’s bathroom. I think we should probably talk about what’s going on.”

  I shook my head. “We’re just…you know…being good friends.”

  “Good friends really don’t know how their dick feels against someone.”

  “Well, I don’t tend to think about that, but thanks for that image.”

  She snorted. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I don’t know, Zoey. I like kissing you. Is that a crime?”

  “Not at all. I just don’t know what happens next. And I think we should talk about what happens next, shouldn’t we?”

  I frowned as I pulled into her driveway. “Zoey.”

  She shook her head and got out of the car. “Forget I asked. Seriously. Forget it. I’ll see you later.”

  I cursed under my breath, turned off my car, and followed her. “Okay, let’s talk this out.”

  She had her keys in her hand but was shaking her head. “No, I don’t think we need to. We’re fine. Let’s just not talk about it at all. I’ll see you later.”

  She had her hand on the door, and I put my hand above her on the jamb. “Zoey. Let’s talk it out.”

  “I don’t think you need to. I don’t think I want to know the answer.”

  I hated the fragility in her voice, and I loathed myself for putting it there. “Come on, let’s go inside,” I whispered. She turned and looked at me, her gaze searching. I wanted to be man enough to say no, that we shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t go in and talk to her. I should walk away. But I wasn’t. Because I didn’t know the answers, and I wanted to go inside. I wanted to touch her, wanted to kiss her, wanted to see what made her tick. That might make me a bastard, but at least I was a consistent one when it came to Zoey.

  “Just to talk?” she whispered.

  I swallowed hard.

  “Just to talk,” I lied.

  Just to talk.

  Chapter 9

  Zoey

  My hand shook as I filled two water glasses from my pitcher before putting the thing back into the fridge. I didn’t even ask him if he wanted ice, but I didn’t think I could handle ice just then. What if my hand shook, and the ice just rattled around the whole time? I was already going to have to deal with possible water sloshing out of the glass as it was. I shouldn’t add any more obstacles.

  “Water, right?” I asked, my voice breathy. Really? I was an adult. I’d been alone with a man before. I had been alone with Caleb before, countless times. Okay, not necessarily countless because we’d usually been near friends, family, or another woman, but I had been with him enough.

  And we hadn’t kissed every time.

  Except with the way h
e was currently looking at me, his eyes dark, lids hooded, lips parted just enough that it sent shivers through me, I had a feeling I was lying to myself. Just like I knew he had been lying to me earlier when he’d said that we were just going to talk. Oh, we might be talking, but I had a feeling if he didn’t leave right then, it wasn’t going to be the only thing we did.

  Was this part of my actual non-existent plan?

  No, I didn’t think so.

  I really should have written down ideas.

  1. Spend time with Caleb.

  2. Show Caleb that I’m actually a really great person.

  3. Be near him so my soul can be happy.

  4. Truly figure out if it’s just a crush or if I am deluding myself.

  5. Get Caleb Carr to love me.

  Not a very good plan. Number five needed a whole subset of its own and should have been the title of the primary plot, but I think I was losing my mind. As always.

  “Water’s fine, Zoey. You okay?” he asked, and I swallowed hard.

  “Just peachy.”

  He raised a brow, and I held back a groan.

  “Did I just say the phrase just peachy?”

  “I think you did.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever said that before in my life.”

  “There’s always time to start,” he said, laughter in his eyes.

  “You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?”

  “Just a little. But not cruelly.”

  “So. Water. Yeah.”

  “You said that.”

  Again, laughter in his eyes. But there was still heat there, and it wasn’t lost on me that he wasn’t saying anything either. We were both circling around the fact that he was here, and I didn’t know what would happen next.

  I should have had that plan ready. But it seemed like that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

  “The baby shower was wonderful. I guess next will be Lacey’s bridal shower.”

  Caleb shook his head. “I don’t have anything to do with that, do I?”

  I shook my head in response.

  “No. There was already the engagement party, and thank God we had nothing to do with that.”

  Caleb grunted. “That was fun, but I’m glad we didn’t have to plan it.”

  “True. There’s the bridal shower, of course, but I don’t think she’s making that co-ed.”

  “Thank God.”

  “After, there’s the wedding rehearsal, and then the ceremony and reception. And we’re not planning the honeymoon.”

  “Again, I’m going to reiterate, thank God.”

  I nodded. “There seems to be an endless amount of work involved for a wedding. Let alone the life that comes after.”

  Caleb took a sip of his water and then set the glass down.

  “There is. I figured if I ever got married, which you know is probably never going to happen, I would end up just doing a Justice of the Peace gig. Or maybe something in Dimitri’s backyard. He’s the one with the bigger yard,” he added.

  I let that little nugget of information—him never getting married—slide right through me. Lots of guys said that. Heck, I said the same thing sometimes. Didn’t actually need to be true. And I didn’t need to let it gut me.

  It was just a thing.

  “You can make the wedding anything you want it to be. This is Lacey’s thing.”

  “Yep. And I’m glad that it’s going to be over eventually.”

  “Eventually,” I agreed. Though it didn’t seem like it would be over anytime soon.

  “What are we doing here, Zoey?” Caleb asked, and I froze. I’d asked the question before, and there didn’t seem to be an answer. How dare he ask the same thing when I didn’t have answers? I had nothing except need and silly dreams when it came to him.

  “Drinking water. And asking ourselves what we’re doing because we’re not actually talking about it at all?” I said the last part really fast and as a question, and Caleb just laughed, though I wasn’t sure there was much humor in it. We were really good about rambling about nothing important and ignoring the elephant in the room.

  Namely, what we meant to each other and where this, whatever this was, could be headed.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I said honestly.

  “I don’t know what to say either. Other than that, I really want to kiss you again, even though I shouldn’t.”

  My heart raced, and my palms went damp. “I guess we suck at the whole talking thing,” I said.

  “We’re great at talking, and even about some important things, but we’re also really good about avoiding the talk.”

  I was sitting on the couch next to Caleb, and he leaned forward to cup my face. His palms were broad, fingers callused, the skin of a man who knew how to use his hands, and I held back a shiver just thinking about exactly what he could do with them.

  His eyes darkened, and I had a feeling he knew exactly what I was thinking about. “What do you want, Zoey?”

  “I used to think I knew. Now, I’m not so sure anymore.” That was as honest as I could be.

  He nodded as if that sentence made sense. “I think that’s my answer, too. Because this could be a mistake. You’re friends with my friends. Your sister’s marrying my friend. You’re practically sisters with Amelia.”

  “But not you. I’m not your sister.”

  Caleb let out a rough chuckle. “I’ve never once had sisterly thoughts about you, Zoey.”

  I blinked at him, confused. That couldn’t be true. Not in all of our lives. “Never once? Not at the beach when you saved me? And not when you saved me that other time?” His eyes darkened, and I regretted bringing it up. But I couldn’t help it. Caleb was intertwined in so many key and small moments in my life, that I couldn’t help but remember the little ones as well as the big stuff that had changed everything.

  “I couldn’t beat the shit out of that wave for coming at you, but I still want to go back and castrate the fucker who tried to get you into his car.”

  “It was a cab, and I wasn’t going to let him.”

  “You’d better not fucking blame yourself for it.”

  “I don’t. Not really.”

  “The phrase not really doesn’t actually help me believe that.”

  I shrugged. “I’m getting better. I have a therapist for that.”

  “Good.”

  His thumb was still on my face, tracing circles.

  “Let’s get back to you not thinking of me as a sister.”

  “You’re not my sister. Not even close. Because if you were, I wouldn’t do this.” Then he lowered his head to mine, and I let out a shuddering breath, wanting more, wanting his taste. I sighed deeply, leaning into him as he parted my lips with his tongue. He deepened the kiss, angling my head just a bit, adding a slow caress.

  I sank into him, wanting more, needing more. His hands slid over my hair and down my back, tugging me closer. He pulled away suddenly, both of us catching our breath, and I met his gaze.

  “Are we not talking?” I asked, afraid of what would happen next. Because I needed to know what he was going to say. But I was afraid. So afraid that I would be like the dozens of women who were made to feel good, always respected, but then never heard from him again.

  “I know I should stop kissing you, but I don’t want to. You need to tell me what you want.”

  “I like kissing you. I want to keep kissing you. Only I don’t want to ruin everything.” That was as honest as I could get because I couldn’t tell him more. Couldn’t say that I wanted him. That I always had. That he’d had a special place in my heart for as long as I could remember, even though he shouldn’t have.

  “Then we just keep doing this. We don’t let it hurt. Don’t let it mess everything up.”

  I met his gaze and wondered what I was missing. He sounded different. Not cruel, but perhaps worried. Why would he be worried? Even as I thought that, I let those thoughts slip from my mind and leaned forward to kiss him again.

  This could be a p
art of my plan. To be with him. I didn’t need a happily ever after, but I didn’t know what life would be like without my mouth on his. Without his touch, his taste.

  I can make this work, I told myself. I could.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.

  “Then don’t,” I said honestly.

  He tucked my hair behind my ears and then nodded before kissing me again.

  The kiss started off soft, sweet, a bare touch of the lips, a gentle swipe of the tongue. And then he kept going, moaning.

  He lowered me to my back, and I ran my hands up and down his arms, wanting more. He hovered over me, careful not to put all his weight on me, and I couldn’t help but find that sweet. Even as it was sexy as hell. He didn’t want to hurt me.

  “Tell me when to stop,” he whispered.

  “Don’t stop.”

  He met my gaze then, and I tried to look as confident as I sounded. He must have seen something there, though, because he kissed me again, his hands roaming.

  When he slid his hand between us, cupping me over my leggings, I groaned, arching into him. He smiled against my lips, still kissing, still touching.

  I wanted more, and I wasn’t going to get it on this couch, not when it was so difficult to reach him.

  “Caleb, I can’t touch you. Not here.”

  He seemed to understand my unintelligible words because suddenly he was sitting, and I was on his lap, straddling him, my hands in his hair as I kissed him hard, his hands on my ass. He molded, squeezed, and I arched against him, rubbing myself along his jean-clad erection.

  “You keep doing that, I’m going to come in my pants,” he groaned, pulling at my hair.

  I arched at the tug, then kept going, kept rubbing, kept kissing.

  His hands were under my shirt, cupping me over my bra, and I wiggled, wanting more.

  “You like that?” he asked.

  “I think I want more.”

  “I can do that. Anything you want, Zoey. I can do that.”

  I opened my eyes then, trying to figure out exactly what he meant by that, but then his lips were on mine, and I wasn’t thinking at all anymore.

  He slid up my shirt, and then I raised my arms so he could pull it over my head.