by Jill Shalvis
She stared down at them and thought she’d need to make sure Becca won those at Callie’s own bachelorette party someday, and then laughed at herself. Second time she’d thought about her future wedding plans. Like before, it brought equal parts terror and…excitement. No, she didn’t want a big wedding with all the glitz and glam she’d planned once upon a time. In fact, when—if, she reminded herself sternly—if she got to plan her wedding again, she wanted it to be a very small affair.
Just her and Tanner. And Lucille and Troy, of course.
The thought made her knees a little weak.
“Hey.”
Speaking of. She turned and faced Troy. Tanner was paying him to work the party. His job was to watch the perimeters in case anyone got close to falling into the water, in which case he was equipped with a radio that he’d proudly hooked on his belt. If he spoke into it, he’d get his dad or Cole.
His secondary job, which Callie had hired him for, was to keep Lucille from the open bar if at all possible.
In fact, ever diligent, his eyes were on Lucille, who was on the arm of Mr. Wykowski. “I feel a little bit like I’m stealing money from you,” he said.
“What happened to you resenting having to babysit the old lady?”
“She’s not that old,” he said. “And she’s smarter than most of my friends.”
Wow. High praise. “You look different,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Me?”
“Yeah.” She studied his face for a long moment. “You look happy. I know, I’m not supposed to say that to a teenager, right?”
He flashed a grin. “Promise you won’t tell?”
Oh boy. “I’m not keeping any more secrets,” she said.
“Oh, not like that. Mr. Wykowski’s paying me today too.”
“Whatever for?” she asked.
“To distract your grandma at the end of the party while he gets ready.”
“For…?”
Troy leaned in. “His proposal,” he whispered.
She blinked. “Are you serious?”
“Yep.” Tanner laughed. “You might be getting a new grandpa. But don’t worry. He doesn’t approve of her use of social media. I’m starving, how’s the food?”
“Amazing.” She moved with him to the food table, where they bumped into Tanner with a group of people she didn’t know along with Cole, Olivia, Sam, and Becca.
Clients, Callie realized as Cole introduced Olivia as his “girl,” which made Olivia—and Callie—melt. Sam, of course, introduced Becca as his “wife-to-be.”
More melting.
Tanner was up. He pulled Troy in with an arm hooked around his neck in a quick, easy, affectionate gesture. “This is my son, Troy,” he said, and met Callie’s gaze with the same easy smile. “And this is—”
Callie held her breath and time slowed. What would he say? Girlfriend? Was it too soon for significant other? Yes. Yes, of course it was. Girlfriend. It was an old-fashioned word but it fit. They weren’t just friends with benefits, and the truth was they never had been. They were so much more than friends. And benefits. She was already smiling as time sped back up to normal and Tanner finished his sentence.
“—Callie.” He smiled at her.
She stared at him. Everyone had gotten a label but her. She was aware of the conversation going on without her, but her brain wasn’t participating. She wasn’t a significant other. She wasn’t a girlfriend. She was…just Callie.
Tanner leaned in and kissed her on the jaw. “Be right back, wait here for me?”
She tuned in and realized he was waiting for a response before moving off with Cole and Sam. She managed what she hoped was a smile and a nod.
And it must have translated because he squeezed her hand and was gone.
Barraged by unwelcome emotions, she stood there, trembling. The truth was, she’d created a fantasy—a relationship with Tanner. But it wasn’t real. They weren’t a couple at all. And the very thing she’d promised herself wouldn’t happen—that she’d go into this thing with her eyes wide open and not get hurt—had come to be.
Because she was hurt. To her heart and soul.
Chapter 25
Tanner didn’t expect to enjoy himself at the party. In fact, he’d approached it like he would a root canal or paying bills. A chore he had to get through, no more, no less.
Not that he didn’t want Sam to be happy with Becca. He wanted that very much. Sam deserved happiness, maybe more than anyone else he knew.
But being social wasn’t really Tanner’s thing. Not in big groups. He’d rather be out on the water. Or in the water, far beneath the surface with nothing but the steady thump of his own heartbeat and the hollow, beautiful sound of the world below in his ear. Or with Troy, who was probably teaching his grandma how to Instagram or something equally horrifying.
Or best yet, he’d rather be in bed.
With Callie beneath him.
Or on top of him.
Or however she’d have him. He’d take her any way he could get her. Especially since he was having trouble getting any time with her here tonight at all. Every time he sought her out, she was busy.
Mr. Wykowski stood up and toasted Becca and Sam, and then turned to Lucille. He thanked her for “loving him since the last ice age” and then took her hand.
“I can’t get down on my knee,” he said. “It don’t bend that way anymore. But, Lucille, I want you to make an honest man out of me.”
Then he shocked everyone by producing a ring.
“You old dog,” Lucille said, and cackled. “Yes. Hell yes.”
And for the first time in Tanner’s memory, the gossip manager of Lucky Harbor became the gossipee.
The party really kicked into gear then. At midnight he sent Troy and Beatriz home with Lucille and Mr. Wykowski. The last part of the evening became a blur. The night was a dark one, but they’d strung a million lights along the dock and on the boat and they were both lit up like Christmas. Someone had cranked up the music, and everyone was dancing like loons.
Cole and Olivia were out there. Cole was doing his white boy thing, one arm straight up in the air, waggling his hips back and forth, but it was working for him because Olivia was all over it.
And though the beat was fast, Sam and Becca were slow-dancing, plastered up against each other like white on rice, staring into each other’s eyes as if no one else existed.
Tanner’s gaze ran over the crowd and locked onto Callie. For over the past two hours now she’d been wherever he wasn’t, and if he hadn’t known better he’d have sworn she was avoiding him. He smiled at her.
She smiled back but it was short her usual wattage. And maybe it was an ego thing, but damn, he loved the way she usually looked at him. Like he was the best thing she’d seen all day. Like maybe he made her world a better place to be. Like she couldn’t imagine not having him to look at.
But she didn’t give him any of those looks now. In fact, she turned away.
And then vanished into the crowd.
What the hell?
He caught up with her in the parking lot just as she slid in behind the wheel of her car and started to shut the door. Holding it open, he crouched at her side. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she said, busy doing something in her purse.
“You’re leaving?” he asked.
“Um, yeah…I just need to—” She tossed her purse into the passenger seat. “Yeah. It’s just about over and I have to get up early and I’m pretty tired, and…yeah.”
She was rambling. Which she did only when nervous or upset, and since he hadn’t made her nervous since that first morning at the coffee shop, he had his answer. “You’re upset.”
She finally looked at him, her expression dialed to Give the Man an A+.
He wracked his brain but couldn’t come up with a reason. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” She tried to shut her door but he was in the way. “Excuse me,” she said in that tone she reserved for her most annoying
clients.
“Callie.” He cupped her face and turned it to him. For the briefest of beats he’d have sworn there was hurt in those beautiful green eyes, but then they were twin pools of…nothing. Nothing at all. It was a defense mechanism, and one he knew well since it was his own. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
She shook her head.
Batting zero. “Give me a minute to say my good-byes,” he said. “And then I’ll go with you.”
“Not necessary,” she said. “I know the way.”
“I’ll meet you there then.”
“No,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “Um, I painted. The fumes are bad.”
“You painted.”
“Yes.” But she didn’t attempt to hold eye contact.
His heart sank to his stomach like a ball of lead. What the hell? “Then come to my place.”
“Troy—”
“He’s spending the night with my mom. Please, Callie,” he said quietly when she started to shake her head.
“Fine.” She tugged at the car door again. “I’ll come over later.”
Relieved, he rose and took a step back, standing there while she pulled out of the lot and vanished into the dark night.
Back at the dock, Cole met up with Tanner as they stood together watching Sam and Becca dancing like there was no one else in their orbit.
“They grow up so fast,” Cole said.
Tanner found a laugh. “Yeah. He did good.” He gestured with his chin toward Olivia dancing with Sam’s dad. “So did you.”
“And so did you,” Cole said. “Callie’s perfect for you. She loves Troy and, better yet, she appears to like your sorry ass too.”
“Callie and I aren’t a thing,” he said, and even as the words came out automatically, he felt his heart ache in protest. Because goddamn, he wanted them to be a thing.
When had that happened?
Cole swiveled his head and stared at Tanner, and then he laughed. “Yeah, right.”
“We’re not. We’re just…” Shit. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t use the word “friends.”
Because they were more, damn it. No matter what she wanted to believe.
Cole was staring at him. “What are you talking about? I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”
“Yeah? And how’s that?”
“Like she can’t take her eyes off of you,” Cole said.
Tanner let out a low, slow exhale.
Cole shook his head. “You’re an idiot.”
Damn, he was tired of people saying that. “Fuck you.”
Cole laughed. “You’ve seen who I sleep with at night, right? Nothing personal, but she’s a lot sweeter and softer than you.”
Okay, that was it. He was out. Tanner pushed away from the railing and started to walk off.
Cole grabbed his arm.
Tanner went still and stared down at the hand on him. “You want to let go.”
Cole let go. “Jesus. Touchy, much?” He stared into Tanner’s eyes. “What did you do? How did you screw it all up?”
“I didn’t do anything. And why do people keep assuming I screwed it up? I don’t screw things up. I’m careful not to.”
“When it comes to anything but yourself, yeah,” Cole said. “You’re real good at taking care of the people in your life. You’d give them the shirt off your damn back. Hell, you’d give them your heart and soul—as long as you don’t have to be responsible for theirs.”
Tanner stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re the rescuer,” Cole said. “Never the rescuee.”
WTF. “I don’t need rescuing.”
Cole’s smile was sad. “Man, we all need a good save now and then.”
Tanner thought about that his entire drive home. It was true that he’d done his best to be there for the people in his life. Elisa. Troy. His mom. Cole and Sam. So what? They meant everything to him—even Elisa with all her craziness because she’d given him his son.
But he didn’t have a rescue complex. Nor did he need rescuing. Not in the damn slightest. He took care of himself. He sure as hell didn’t need anyone. Need and want were two entirely different things and—
And the thought scattered on the night’s light wind as he pulled up to his house and saw Callie’s car in his driveway.
She was waiting on him.
His heart, which had been sitting uncomfortably in his gut all damn night, fluttered like a virgin’s. He got out of his truck and jogged up the front walk, stopping at the sight of her sitting on his top step.
She rose, dusted her hands on her thighs, and met his gaze. Her eyes weren’t as bright as they normally were. There were smudges of exhaustion beneath them. Her smile wasn’t quite right either, and his heart squeezed. It was one of those moments where time stood still as something hit him.
He was willing to take whatever she would give him, and if that meant friends with benefits, or just friends, or just benefits, he’d take those crumbs. But if she walked away from him, he would be decimated. Apparently there was a point of no return, and he’d crossed it. Not just strolled over it but steamrolled past it.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said. “Want a drink? Or we could make something to eat, or—”
She shook her head. “I shouldn’t stay long. I’ve got work.”
“It’s past midnight.”
She shrugged. “Brides don’t notice the time unless their groom is late.”
He unlocked the front door and waited while she moved in ahead of him. Expecting her to stop in his living room and possibly remark on the fact that he had several cans of paint stacked up near Troy’s room, he was surprised when he blinked and she was gone.
He followed her down the hall to his bedroom.
She was kicking off her shoes.
“You sure you don’t want—” His words and breath escaped him in a whoosh when she pushed him onto his bed. “I—”
She climbed on top of him. “No time for a chat,” she said, and then pulled off her sweater.
Beneath she wore a black and nude lace bra that pushed her up and nearly out of the tiny cups. His mouth went dry, even as a part of him recognized that she was wearing pretty lingerie. For him.
When she shoved up his shirt and bent low, putting her mouth on him, a rough groan escaped him. His hands slid into her hair as she took that mouth of hers on a tour south.
Jesus.
She had one hand in pants and him halfway to the finish line before he could draw another breath. “Callie.”
Another stroke with her warm fingers and his eyes crossed. “Callie, wait—”
She shoved his pants down farther.
He moved fast. He had to, or he was going to lose it like a quick-on-the-trigger teenager. Rolling, he pinned her beneath him and held her down on the bed.
