Called Up

by Jen Doyle

  Nate was clearly distracted, however, and despite the practical standoff he and Deke had had back on Father’s Day, his gaze was on a car full of photographers alongside the limo. There was no other way in the world he’d be forcing a situation like this. But forcing it he was, nudging Fitz’s shoe with his foot. “Move to the other side of the seat so you’re the one across from us instead of Deke.”

  Okay, yes, it made sense that Deke should be across from Dorie, and Fitz from Nate and Wash. The back of the limo may have been spacious enough for ordinary people, but it didn’t quite have enough room for three six-foot-plus men to be sitting across from each other. But damn. Fitz looked over at Deke, bracing herself against the Earth-halting-on-its-axis moment she still felt whenever his eyes met hers. When he shifted over so she could climb over him, she tried desperately to do so without making things worse than they already were.

  The fates were against her. The maneuvering was such that it required not only the climb, but in a moving car it also meant his hands had to go to her hips to keep her steady. And she practically had to straddle him in order to get over to the other side. Maybe if his breath hadn’t caught as her thighs fell to his, or if his fingers hadn’t tightened hard enough to show his strain in keeping her away from where they might otherwise be joined, she’d have been fine. But it had hitched, and his fingers had tightened, and she wasn’t fine. She wasn’t fine at all.

  She scooted away from him the second she could, afraid if she gave herself any ground, she’d strip naked for him right then and there. Thank God he moved away just as quickly.

  The rest of the ride was torture. His presence overwhelmed her. Even without looking at him, she could feel his every movement. Wash said something that made him laugh, and she could picture the way the corners of his mouth would turn up just so. The seat shifted, and she nearly shivered at the memory of the way he’d felt beneath her in his Jeep, at the thought of him leaning back and looking up at her as his legs parted enough for her to slide between. As he then parted hers and lifted her up and onto him.

  She pushed open the door and jumped out of the limo the second it came to a stop, and was immediately greeted with an explosion of flashbulbs.

  “Just get them inside,” Nate said from behind her, as she was suddenly being propelled forward by the security guy and shouldered through the crowd.

  “Keep moving.” Nate again, with a tight smile on his face as he waved at the reporters. With his arm around Dorie and his hand lightly on Fitz’s back, he not only didn’t slow down, he was pushing them both forward. For the first time in maybe ever, Fitz was grateful for the simplicity of life in Inspiration. Sure, everyone and their brother knew every last detail of her history, but at least she didn’t need security, for Heaven’s sake.

  As they entered the huge room with its colorful lights flashing and the music pulsing,

  Nate’s manager/publicist/all-around assistant appeared out of nowhere to guide them toward a roped off area. It was quieter back there, enough to hear Nate’s muttered curse when Alexis said, “Like I said on the phone, just a few pictures. I promise. Then you’re free for the rest of the night.”

  Since it was already after ten, that didn’t seem the best negotiating point, but Nate appeared resigned to it.

  “Okay,” the woman said, smiling. “Let’s do some Dream shots.”

  It wasn’t the worst thing to see Nate, Wash and Deke hamming it up like old times. Fitz did not, however, like Alexis putting her hand on Deke’s arm and pulling him closer to the camera.

  Taking a deep breath, Fitz forced herself not to scowl. Or sneer. Or jump on Alexis’s back and claw her eyes out from behind. It was a reminder that there were as many gorgeous women out there in the crowd as there were gorgeous men. And Deke was excellent at making new friends.

  “What?” he asked Fitz, frowning. The photographer stopped, causing everyone to turn to look at her.

  “Nothing.” Annoyed with herself for not keeping a better handle on her thoughts, she gestured for them to continue. “Go on. Take your pictures.”

  But before she could even step back, Deke reached out and yanked her to him. She came against him with a thud, glaring up at him.

  He wasn’t paying attention, however, instead smiling at the photographer. “Meet Baby Hawk. The sixth member of The Dream.”

  Baby Hawk? “Really?” He had to go there?

  Well, if that wasn’t a clear indication they were back to normal despite sexy times in the back of the limo, nothing else was.

  Since no one else seemed to have a problem with her being in the picture, she stayed. And then Nate decided that as long as Fitz was in the picture, it was okay for Dorie to be there as well. Alexis and the photographer clearly loved the just one big happy family vibe of it all, and Fitz ended up squeezed against Deke, trying desperately not to think about how good it felt. There had to be laws against that.

  “Uh, Baby Hawk, was it?” the photographer said. Ignoring her glare, he reached out and tugged her arm down a bit. “Yeah, that’s it. Around his waist.”

  “Shit,” Deke hissed, his entire body tensing as her wrist brushed his...

  “Oh,” Fitz gasped, her arm jerking away as she realized he was... It was... Hard. So very hard. And Fitz so very much wanted it inside her again.

  No. No, she didn’t.

  She bit her lip.

  “Do not... Fucking... Move...” Deke said quietly—painfully—as his hand clamped down on her wrist and held it in place. Not against him, of course, but just out of range.

  Blood rushed to her cheeks. Because now she couldn’t get it out of her head. She wanted to close her hand around him. To stroke his length.

  To make him come again.

  His other hand, the one not holding her wrist in a death grip, went to her waist. He gave her hip a warning squeeze.

  She had every intention of glaring up at him, but just as she was about to do so, the others shifted, causing Wash to bump into her, which in turn caused her wrist to drop down and push against the tip of Deke’s erection.

  He gave an almost inaudible groan.

  “Are we done?” she asked, her voice unfamiliarly high in pitch.

  She immediately began to pull away when the photographer lowered his camera and the others were led away by Alexis, disappearing around the corner. But she found herself being yanked back up against Deke, his hand doing a bit more caressing this time, fingers slipping down to the crease of her thigh.

  And she nearly wept. It felt that incredible.

  He pulled her closer, forcing her to straddle his thigh. She gasped as he ground her against him. With the music pulsing overhead, he had to bend down to speak to her, right into her ear. “You are the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, to her complete surprise. “Be careful out there tonight.”

  Then he let go of her and walked away, leaving her staring after him. She sank back and took a deep breath before pushing off the wall. The first order of business would be a huge freaking drink, followed immediately by a whole lot of dancing to work off this steam.

  Chapter Seventeen

  All the ground Deke had gained by keeping his distance had evaporated the second Fitz put her hand on his shoulders in the limo. That whole thing with the photographer brought him right to the edge.

  And now the woman was pushing him over it and driving him fucking insane.

  She’d been at it for an hour now, laughing and dancing with every goddamn guy who asked, which was not a small number. If Nate hadn’t been so closely watching her, Deke would have done something about it. He had no idea what, but it would have been something. As it was, he was grateful for a lifetime of being in and around bars, of carefully controlling his reactions. Though he was pretty sure he’d been able to keep all other outward appearances neutral, he’d shredded three coa
sters and was now working on his fourth.

  “Can I get you another?” the waitress said, bending down as she cleared his empty bottle, and displaying what on any other night would be a world of temptation. Her eyebrow arched as she swept up the latest cardboard casualty. “Or maybe just a stack of coasters?”

  That earned a grin. Hell, maybe he should be working it as hard as Fitz was. Because she sure as hell seemed determined to go home with someone tonight, and given she was keeping her dance card entirely full, odds were it wasn’t going to be him.

  Which was fine. Whatever. But, fuck. He was still hard.

  “Let’s stick with the beer,” he muttered, his eyes traveling back to the dance floor. Now she was dancing with two guys. “Christ.”

  Where the fuck was Dorie? Although she didn’t strike him as the clubbing type, she was definitely a bit more worldly. Of course, Deke was part of the reason Fitz wasn’t more experienced at any of this. He’d been more than happy to go along with Nate’s keep-the-guys-away-at-all-costs plan back in college. Right now he wished he hadn’t been so gung ho.

  Deke turned to Nate. It was high time for someone to do something about his sister being out there and if it wasn’t going to be Nate, then Deke was stepping up. Except before Deke could open his mouth, Dorie appeared in front of them with a look on her face that meant business.

  Wariness came into Nate’s eyes. “What?” he murmured, sitting up a little straighter.

  “Ox is here,” she said, plopping down on the seat next to him.

  Ox, as in Jack Oxford. All-star pitcher, yes, but also known to the entire world by now as Nate Hawkins’s ex-best-friend. Considering the guy had not just slept with Nate’s previous fiancée, but had also gotten her pregnant, this had the potential to be ugly as hell and everyone knew it. There was a definite awareness rippling through the crowd, as though everyone was waiting to see if the two men might come face to face.

  “Do you want to go?” Dorie asked, as softly as possible given the blaring music.

  “Why would I want to go?” Nate asked, seemingly oblivious to the tension. But that was Nate for you. The man could have a mob of angry fans coming at him and he’d most likely just calmly take a sip of his drink as he stared them down.

  Deke was familiar enough with the tingling down his spine to know it meant Fitz was nearby; it barely even got to him anymore. Sure enough, she’d left the dance floor, finally, and was about to sit down, bumping him with her hip as she nudged him over and perched on the cushion next to him. “What’s going on?”

  The waitress, who was clearly well-trained to keep her VIPs happy, appeared almost immediately, her tray balanced on her hand. “Two Dos Equis,” she said, placing the beers in front of Deke and Nate, “two Guinness,” went to Dorie and Wash. And then, “A Sex on the Beach.”

  Deke turned to Fitz.

  Her cheeks still flushed from dancing, she gave him a little grin as she picked up the drink and took a huge sip from the straw. “What? You never let me order these at home.”

  “Because their only purpose is to get you drunk,” he snapped. He couldn’t handle a drunk Fitz. The one time he had served her that drink—too many of them, granted—he’d brought her home and she’d almost stripped in front of him before stretching out on her bed. He’d forced a T-shirt over the bra she’d been wearing and spent the night working on the bar’s taxes at her kitchen counter.

  Raising her eyebrows, Fitz shrugged and took another sip. “Yep.” When she went to put the drink down on the table in front of them, a little bit sloshed over the edge. “Oops,” she said, her smile wide. Then she raised her arm and twisted it a bit, letting a drop of the drink slowly work its way down her wrist. She held it up to his lips, leaned in and said, “Wanna lick?”

  Which, unlike the presence of the ex-best-friend who had impregnated the ex-fiancée, appeared to be the thing that would put Nate over the edge.

  Deke could feel the iciness directed his way. The only thing that surprised him, in fact, was that Nate hadn’t killed him yet. For as much as he’d been trying not to be obvious about it and had stayed well away from the subject after Father’s Day, he knew Nate was aware something was going on. That there hadn’t been an actual throw-down was no doubt due to Nate choosing to keep his focus on his fiancée rather than his sister. But if Fitz kept this up, Deke’s days were limited. No doubt.

  As gently and impersonally as possible, he moved Fitz’s arm aside. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.” For the health of all concerned.

  Second crisis averted, Dorie raised her drink.

  Fuck. Deke nearly jumped out of his skin when Fitz’s hand went to his thigh as she leaned forward.

  “A toast?” she asked, making no attempt whatsoever to keep her breast from brushing his arm. He was going to take her right there, God help him.

  With a smile on her face, Dorie said, “I kind of can’t believe this is my reality at the moment, but since it is...” She waited for everyone else to raise their glasses before locking eyes with Nate. “To The Dream. The best friends I never thought I’d have and the man I didn’t quite realize I had loved all my life. Thank you for making me believe.”

  There was something about the way she looked at Nate and how he looked back that made Deke a little jealous, truth be told.

  Not that he wanted Dorie for himself. She and Nate were so clearly made for each other it didn’t even bear thinking about. But the connection between them was so strong it did make a guy think about having a woman who made you feel like that. Because it was obvious to anyone sitting there that despite how quickly they’d gotten together and how whirlwind their romance had been, that love ran deep and true. Nate had never been happier in his life.

  Even when she pulled away from the kiss that inevitably followed and said, “I think you should talk to Ox.”

  She, too, was a little bit drunk. And it was meant for Nate’s ears only, most likely, although Wash heard it, too, raising his eyebrows at Deke and muttering, “Oh, shit.”

  His lips setting into a grim line, Nate answered, “I think maybe not.”

  Dorie’s hand settled over Nate’s thigh. “I think we should talk about this some more.” She leaned in close, and, yes, she was definitely drunk, and this was definitely meant to be private. “You miss him, Nate. And maybe, since you heard Courtney out, you could at least give him a chance to explain.”

  “Damn it, Dorie,” Nate said, his expression changing from hard to soft in the blink of an eye. His eyes flicked to Wash and Deke, both of whom immediately found other things to concentrate on, and then back to Dorie before looking away. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Good,” she said, sounding both happy and sad. “Because if you don’t, I might have to kne—”

  “I know, babe,” he said, smiling as he shifted her hand up closer to his knee. “And we all know how that turns out.”

  Before anyone could ask what “that” was, the DJ’s voice rang out loud and clear. “Alright, kids, we’ve had a request. Although that’s not our usual MO, since it’s from America’s Sweetheart, we thought we’d go along with it. So take a ride with us back to 1993...”

  “Oh, hell,” Wash said, sitting up straight in his seat and echoing Deke’s thoughts exactly as the song began to play. Dorie and Fitz jumped up, squealing. Deke shifted in his seat uncomfortably, the image of Fitz dancing to his jukebox that night wasn’t ever far from his mind.

  “What the hell just happened?” Nate asked, as they all focused on the dance floor.

  “So here’s the thing...” Wash started to say, looking at Deke in a clear call for help.

  But Deke was down for the count on this one. All he could do was shake his head. He buried his head in his hands in hopes it would make him think about something else, make him want Fitz less. But remembering the way she’d demonstrated that lick nearly undid him.
He looked up again, catching a glimpse of Fitz just as some guy’s arms went around her from behind.

  No. Fuck it.

  He was done with this shit.

  He was on his feet so fast he didn’t even think about what it might look like to Nate. Turns out there was no need, since Nate was two steps behind him.

  Right before they reached the dance floor, Nate’s hand went to Deke’s shoulder. “You’d better fucking take care of her tonight.”

  Which had Deke stopping suddenly despite the dancing that so clearly needed to be put to an end. “What did you just say?” In no universe had Nate just uttered those words.

  He had, of course, it was just that Deke had misinterpreted him completely, as was clear when Nate hissed, “You keep her away from all these assholes. Keep her with you or Wash from here on in. If any one of them tries to take her home tonight, you kill him and then you come to me. I’ll help you bury the body.”

  The frightening thing was that it didn’t seem like he was kidding.

  No. The truly frightening thing was that Nate was telling the last man on earth who should be hearing it that he was responsible for getting Fitz safely out of this party and back to the hotel.

  “You got it, man,” Deke said, knowing he’d just bought his ticket straight to hell. “I’m all in.”

  * * *

  Fitz nearly stumbled when Deke stepped onto the dance floor. It was clear he had his sights on someone, and she had to tell herself it didn’t matter who he hooked up with tonight. “I’m here for me.”

  Reminding her that not only was it true but she was doing fine on her own, thankyouverymuch, the majorly hot guy who’d just had his hands on her hips shouted down into her ear, “Did you just say something, cher?”

  Oh, right, majorly hot and Cajun. The shortstop from Texas, she was pretty sure.

  Before she could answer, however, his warmth was abruptly gone from her back. “Aw, shit,” he said, his hands shooting up in the air as though he was being held up. “No more fighting, man.”