She was able to discern the bottom of a tattoo extending just beyond his short sleeve. Of course. The Callaghan crest. She remembered Kieran going on and on about it, how he couldn’t wait until he was eighteen so he could get one, too. Each of the Callaghan brothers sported the ink, customized with a design that symbolized their particular skill. Kieran wanted a dragon, something to indicate his passion with martial arts. She wondered what Ian’s was. He’d always been super good with electronics, if she remembered correctly.
He smelled better than she remembered, too, and that was a bad thing, because even back then there was something about him – whether it was the soap he used, or the deodorant, or just his God-given natural scent – that seemed to throw females into instant heat. Dear God, he smelled so good she wanted to bury her head in his neck and lick him right then and there to see if he tasted just as fine. She sighed, a sound of secret suffering with which she was intimately familiar.
Ian neither recognized nor remembered her; that much was obvious. She wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or insulted. Flattered, because she had really blossomed since the last time they had seen each other. Insulted, because, well, she would know him anywhere.
But then, she already knew Ian had never been interested in her. Even if she hadn’t been a couple of years younger than him, she had never really been his type. On the plain side of being considered pretty, she was quiet and shy. The type of girl no one noticed unless she did something to put herself on the radar. And despite her instant and undeniable attraction to Ian Callaghan, she hadn’t been willing to do what so many of the other girls were for a stolen night with the bad boy of the bunch. No, Lexi had always wanted to save herself for the right man.
She almost snorted. As if there was such a thing.
Oh, well. The past was the past, and none of it really mattered. Soon enough they would go their separate ways and she would probably never see him again anyway. It was for the best.
* * *
Ian wasn’t really asleep, but he found feigning slumber a great way to learn a lot about people who thought he was. They tended to let their guards down. Just like the tasty little thing next to him. The one whose light, delicate scent filled his lungs and invaded his body. The one who was surreptitiously studying him now under the protection of her hood and from behind those shades.
Within seconds of his innocuous deceit, she started breathing normally again. This told him several things. First, she tended to be rather shy and reserved. This held intense promise. Females that were shy and reserved on the outside often hid a deep passion within, and he was a great fan of passion.
Second, she was not the kind of woman who slept around, also a definite plus. Her reaction to him was not one of a woman experienced in dealing with highly sexual men such as himself, but more like the gentle girl next door. He had always leaned more toward the darker, the forbidden, so it was a bit of a surprise to find himself so intrigued by this woman, who exuded innocence.
That led right into his third impression, and that was that she was of limited sexual experience, if not a virgin. The way she tensed every time he “accidentally” brushed against her was proof in and of itself. That shouldn’t have aroused him as much as it did. Usually he avoided such virtuosity like the plague, preferring those with a little more experience to play with, but there was something unusual about this one. Something that he felt instantly drawn to.
She was studying him, he could tell. He could sense it. He actually felt her gaze rake over his arms and chest; knew when it settled in his lap, and she was treated to a glimpse of the physical effect her nearness was having on him. Of course, the slight catch in her breath was a pretty good indication, too. He felt sure that had he opened his eyes right then he would have seen that lovely flush across her face again. It had been a long time since he’d been that close to such innocence.
Despite her obvious wariness, he found her very easy to be around. How long had it been since he had been around someone who didn’t want something from him? Not to mention, she smelled like sunshine. Such a nice change after the potent perfume he’d had to deal with for the first part of the trip.
It was adorable when he’d caught her staring at him, and strangely arousing. Ian wasn’t a fool. He knew women shot him appreciative glances all the time. But this one – he had a feeling she didn’t look at many men like she had been looking at him, and she certainly wasn’t used to being caught at it. She had let her guard down, something else she probably didn’t do very often. He shouldn’t have gotten so much pleasure from her reaction, he knew, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed it.
And it had made him harder than hell.
Those final two hours of the trip had to be the most pleasant he had ever spent on a bus, he decided. Moving away from the blonde had been a brilliant move. She continued to cast suggestive glances back toward him, but he found it increasingly easy to ignore them. His new seat mate had drifted off herself some time ago. His right arm had become her pillow, not that he minded in the least. Her cheek was soft and warm against his skin. Her breath was moist and smelled like peppermint. And she had the most arousing breathy little sighs that sent bolts of heat straight down between his legs. Unbidden images of her making those little noises while curled up next to him naked in his bed didn’t help. He gave himself a mental shake.
As if sensing his discomfort, she sighed softly, one arm curling tighter around his bicep. That made him smile. He spent his life fighting against the bad guys, but somehow her simple trust – even if it was given subconsciously – made him feel like more of a hero than his last mission.
Ian glanced down at her hands where she subconsciously held on to him. Small, with slim, pretty fingers. Nails, real ones, painted a pretty pearly white, filed to just beyond her fingertips in a graceful curve. No bands or gems on the left hand, always a good sign. On the right, however, a spiral of gold adorned her thumb. Looking closer, he saw that it was a delicate dragon, curling around her, its talons and tail gripping her protectively. It was quite beautiful, actually, and reminded him of a tattoo his younger brother, Kieran, had gotten several years earlier.
Ian felt a pang of sorrow when the bus pulled into the station. They would soon part ways. Maybe it was because he was coming home from a particularly nasty mission. Maybe it was because he was feeling especially restless these days, now that his brother Jake had found his croie, his soul mate. He didn’t know what the reason was, didn’t really care. What did matter to him, and what had him confused as hell, was that for the past two hours he hadn’t felt any of that, only peace. Maybe he could get her number before he left, try to hook up in a couple of days when he had some free time.
He wasn’t sure what came over him, but he impulsively placed a kiss upon the top of her head before the vehicle came to a complete stop. The light fragrance of citrus and vanilla clung to the thin cotton hood, making him dream of pushing it back and burying his face in her hair, but there was no time.
Pulling back just as quickly, he feigned sleep again so she wouldn’t feel embarrassed when she woke up and realized she had wrapped herself around his arm. Sure enough, she awoke within seconds and jerked away. Ian felt the sudden chill that accompanied the lack of her body against his.
Ian stretched, seeing it as the perfect excuse to deliberately brush against her again. He was delighted when she didn’t try to avoid the contact. Even more delighted when he realized she was getting off at this stop as well.
She stood and reached for the overhead compartment, stretching on her tiptoes and extending her reach. Ian grinned. Since he had only seen her sitting down, he hadn’t realized she was quite so petite. It gave him an excellent chance to play the chivalrous male.
“Here,” he said, rising in a fluid movement. “Let me.”
In the limited space of the bus, he was aware of her lips just a hair’s breadth away from his chest. The top of her head barely reached his chin. He shook off the unexpectedly powerful
urge to lower his arms and wrap them around her, tucking her close against him.
“Uh-oh,” he said, so quietly that only she could hear him.
His little seat mate turned her attention away from his chest (had she just discreetly inhaled?) and looked toward the older blonde waiting to catch him on the way out. He heard her take a deep breath, then straighten her shoulders and look up into his face.
“I would love to have dinner with you,” she said rather loudly, surprising him.
Ian froze for a second until he realized what she was doing. Then he leaned down and whispered, “I think I love you.”
Chapter Three
If only he knew how cruel those words were.
Lexi forced a smile, forced herself to remember that Ian had no idea who she was. He was just being charming. And she was no kid anymore, either. She was a grown, independent woman, fully capable of making her own way in the world. So why did she suddenly feel like that crushing girl, so helpless and out of control?
Ian carried both of their bags off the bus, sticking close enough to Lexi that she remained painfully aware of him. As her soft-sided suitcase came from the cargo bay beneath, she reached for it. Ian immediately took it from her hands.
“So where shall we eat?” he asked.
Lexi tugged at the suitcase, but Ian held on stubbornly. “We don’t,” she answered.
Ian frowned, looking confused. “Didn’t you just say –“
“Look,” Lexi said, waving her hand toward the retreating blonde figure. “She’s gone. You’re safe now.”
“But I really would like to have dinner with you.”
Lexi almost believed him. Almost. She shook her head. Three days tops and she would be out of there. She couldn’t afford to open old wounds that would take a lot longer than that to heal. “Sorry. After two days on that thing, all I can think about is a hot shower and a bed I can actually lie down in.” She reached again for the suitcase and her pack, but he held tight.
“My lady,” he said, breaking out that sexy grin again. “You have saved me from the evil witch. I must repay the favor. Dine with me. Please.”
No woman was immune to that grin, including (especially) her. She couldn’t help it, she grinned back, but inside, her heart ached. She had long ago accepted the fact that Ian Callaghan was nothing more than a fantasy, an impossible standard to which no other man could ever measure up. To actually have dinner with him would make him seem too attainable, putting cracks in the carefully constructed walls she’d erected over the years. And afterward, when he left, it would hurt that much more. Even his lighthearted flirting was painful, a series of stinging reminders of what a playboy he was, had always been.
“Thanks, really, but no thanks.”
This time when she reached for her luggage, he placed his hand over hers. That little contact sent electric pulses right through her. Her lips parted, but somehow she managed to hold back the sigh that threatened to escape. If a simple touch of his hand could do this to her, what would it be like to be held in his arms? To be kissed by him? To lay naked beneath him?
That last thought nearly sent her over the edge, and she fought valiantly to regain some measure of self-control before she embarrassed both of them. She wasn’t fourteen anymore, for God’s sake. Her entire body stiffened and she pulled her hand away.
“Alright,” he said slowly, clearly not pleased with her response. “But at least allow me to get this for you.” He looked around expectantly. “Is someone picking you up?”
“No.” Of course he would think that she was rejecting him because of another man, Lexi thought. No one had probably ever turned him down before. The idea that she simply might not want to have dinner with him wouldn’t have crossed his mind.
Coming to the realization that he was not going to relinquish his hold on her bag any time soon, she began to walk away. A moment later he followed, his long legs easily keeping pace with her, her suitcase held effortlessly in his strong grip.
“Need a ride, then?” Damn, he was persistent. But then she always knew he was. All of the Callaghan men were like that. They got what they wanted. Maybe a little rejection would be good for him.
“No.”
The hotel she’d booked was only a few blocks from the bus station, and it was a beautiful evening. Despite the angst and awkwardness that came with being within touching distance of Ian Callaghan, she was enjoying the walk, especially after being cooped up on the bus for so long. The air was fresh and clean with a hint of honeysuckle and pine. She had forgotten how good it smelled. The fake fresheners and bottled scents never seemed to capture the natural sweetness of the real stuff. Lexi had travelled all over the world, but had yet to find some other place that affected her quite so deeply as her hometown.
Ian stayed agonizingly close, but was silent for the first block or so. She wasn’t sure if he’d accepted her disinterest, or if he was just too thrown by her attitude to make sense of it all. He wasn’t stupid, she knew that for certain. Most likely he was simply planning his next move.
They walked past a small Italian restaurant. The outdoor dining area was about half full, and the mouth-watering smells assaulted her full-force. Lexi’s stomach growled loudly, enough for Ian to hear. He smirked. “So.... you’re not hungry?”
“I didn’t say that,” she countered without breaking stride. “I said I didn’t want to have dinner with you.”
The smile fell away from his lips. “May I ask why?”
Because I am hopelessly, desperately in love with you, and you will break my heart. “Look, -“
“Ian,” he provided helpfully. “Ian Callaghan.” Yeah, as if she didn’t know that.
“Ian. “ She stopped, looking him up and down, stalling for time while she sought a suitable response, wishing her body would stop angling toward his like a divining rod. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
His eyebrow quirked up as she rubbed her forehead with her index and middle fingers, trying to stem off the headache that was starting. “I’m really tired, and I smell like a bus, and I just really, really want to call it day, alright?”
* * *
Smelled like a bus? Hell, he thought she smelled like sunshine on a summer’s day. If she smelled like this after two days on a Greyhound, he could only imagine what she would smell like fresh out of the shower. Like she would in about an hour or so, if she was serious about the top items on her to-do list.
It gave him ideas.
“Hey, no problem,” he shrugged, turning slightly so she wouldn’t see the wicked gleam in his eye.
She seemed a bit surprised – and, dare he hope, disappointed? - that he had given up so easily, but recovered quickly.
“Thanks for understanding, Ian.”
“No problem,” he repeated. “I get it.”
Ian left her bags with her in the lobby of the Carlisle, the closest thing Pine Ridge had to a luxury hotel. He insisted on waiting near the door until he was sure she had a place to stay. Judging by the way she pursed those pretty pink lips together, she didn’t really think that was necessary, but she must have read the determination in his eyes because she didn’t waste any effort on trying to dissuade him.
He offered to carry her bags to her room, but she declined, as he knew she would. It was so strange. He’d only just met her – didn’t even know her name (her luggage tag read A. Kattapoulos), yet there was something very warm and familiar about her. No matter. If his plan panned out the way he hoped it would, he would soon know her much better.
“Thanks again for helping me out back there,” he said, giving her one of his crooked smiles. More than one woman had admitted that they found his roguish grin incredibly sexy. He didn’t see it, but hey, if it worked.
“My pleasure.”
He waited until she took two steps away from him before he said, “What, no kiss?”
Her head whipped around to find him grinning from ear to ear, arms lifted in open invitation. She laughed, which is exactly what he
’d intended.
Shaking her head, she turned and stepped onto the elevator. Ian slung his duffel over his shoulder and walked away, whistling.
Her laugh was like music, Ian thought as he walked the few remaining blocks to Jake’s Irish Pub, owned and operated by his father and brothers. His step was light, his mind swimming with possibilities. She might have said no, but she didn’t really mean it. Ian was an expert at reading a woman’s body language, and he was confident that she had wanted to say yes.
Not for the first time, he wished he could have seen her eyes. It was kind of odd that she had kept her shades on, even at dusk. Maybe she had overly-sensitive eyes, he thought. He had a cousin-in-law like that.
In direct contrast to his mood, the atmosphere in the Pub was unusually somber. All of his brothers were already there, talking in subdued tones. It brought the reason for his father’s sudden request to return home earlier than planned back to him in a rush; a reason he had temporarily forgotten.
Brian O’Connell, a close friend of the family, had passed away suddenly the week before of a massive heart attack. The Callaghan boys would serve as pall bearers at the funeral tomorrow.
“Oi, Ian,” said his brother Shane, clasping him on the back. “Glad you made it. Bus not too terrible, I hope?”
Ian shook his head. Not bad at all. At first he’d been pretty pissed when his flight had been rerouted, forcing him to get a bus for the last six hours home, but now, he was glad it had.
His older brother Jake poured him a beer as he grabbed a stool. Thankfully, his family had never been much for small talk or superfluous platitudes, so as soon as the initial greetings were over, Ian was left in relative peace. No one gushed over his safe arrival back home, nor did he expect them to.
First and Only: Callaghan Brothers, Book 2 Page 2
