Going All In

by Alannah Lynne

  “I thought we had a deal.” The raw rasp in his voice had him clearing his throat before starting again. “You could load the furniture, but you’d let me move it.”

  A cute little dimple popped out in her cheek as she flashed him a broad grin. “I waited for you to come and get it”—his body burned and his brain sizzled at all the ways he’d love to come and get—“but you’d zoned out and didn’t notice. I can get it by myself. It’s no big deal.”

  She shrugged nonchalantly, which brought his attention back to her shoulder… and breast. Christ. “Wrong.”

  And wasn’t that a friggin’ understatement? It was wrong for him to think anything about her was cute, let alone a dimple. It was wrong for him to lose focus. And it was all kinds of wrong for him to lose focus because he was thinking about her like a man thinks about a woman he’s interested in getting to know better.

  A whole hell of a lot better.

  “Give me that,” he said gruffly, letting go of her shoulder to grab the cold, hard handle.

  Her eyes widened, the grin slipped from her face, and she let go of the handle like it was on fire. He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but this bizarre, out-of-control attraction had him pissed off and edgy.

  She inched away and watched him from the corner of her eye while angling her body toward the door, ready to run for her life. But then she stopped, straightened her spine, and lifted her chin.

  Seeing her fight against the fear flickering in her eyes to stand her ground sent a wave of pride through him and puffed out his chest, nudging out the guilt he felt for alarming her in the first place.

  What the fuck was wrong with him?

  He shook his head and rubbed his eyes in frustration. Pickled. His brain was pickled. That was the only explanation that made sense as his lips parted and he said, “I need food. Let’s grab some lunch, then come back and finish this up.”

  What about his plan to finish before lunch?

  What about his nap?

  His vision swirled as his mind conjured an image of Callie curled into his side, her head propped up on his shoulder as they slept—

  With a hard shake of his head, he cut the bullshit thought, quick, and forced his gaze to stay on her face, not her killer body. “So… lunch?”

  She cut her eyes to a brown bag—the kind he used to carry his lunch to school in. “I brought mine with me.” She licked her lips and smiled nervously, like she feared setting him off again by declining. “I appreciate the offer, but you go ahead.” As an afterthought, she added, “If you want to take the rest of the day off, I can finish by myself. Really. There’s not that much left.”

  The first time she made that offer, he declined because Kevin would’ve kicked his ass for not following orders. This time, he declined because his conscience wouldn’t let him bail on Callie and because he wasn’t ready to call it a day yet. Which was also what prompted him to check out her lunch bag, in the hopes of persuading her she was better off with him than on her own.

  His lip curled and a fresh wave of nausea hit as he pulled out an apple, a banana, and a package of ramen noodles. “What the hell is this? Some kind of weird new diet?”

  When he glanced over his shoulder, he was surprised to find a dark, defensive gaze meeting his. “Hardly. Have you read the nutritional label on those noodles?”

  He dropped the contents back in the bag and leaned against the desk. “Then why are you eating them?”

  She averted her gaze and shifted from one foot to the other. “They’re cheap.”

  Cheap? Why would Callie be concerned about the cost of a meal? He stared at her, figuring she’d eventually grow uncomfortable enough with the scrutiny to be a little more forthcoming. It took longer than expected, but she finally caved.

  “I’m saving for a pair of boots.” Her eyes brightened as if she were seeing them in her mind and her lips curved into a smile. “They’re the softest leather I’ve ever felt and they come up to here.”

  His gaze drifted to her leg as she swiped her hand across the middle of her thigh. He gulped, envisioning her in thigh-high boots with a short skirt, flashy belt, and low-cut top. Every guy in the room would froth at the mouth like a buck during rut. Tempers would flare, horns would lock, and it would be a fight to death to be the one to take her home.

  She laughed self-consciously. “Sorry, you don’t care about my boots.”

  Unfortunately, he did care. With tremendous effort, he dragged his gaze away from her legs and up to her brown doe eyes, shimmering with excitement over the new boots. If he had a chair handy, he’d pull it up beside her, plant his ass, and have her tell him every last detail about those boots, right down to the stitching and how they were made.

  He drew in a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. He really wanted to see her wearing them. And, heaven help him, he couldn’t deny he also wanted to be the lucky bastard who got to take them off.

  As he grew increasingly uncomfortable in not only his tightening jeans, but also his skin, he took off his cap, rubbed the top of his head, then worked the cap back in place. He was sure she’d already made this connection for him, but somewhere between the soft leather of the boots and her thighs, he’d gotten lost. “So what do the ramen noodles have to do with these new boots?”

  “Rather than eating out all the time, I bring my lunch to save money. That way I can get them out of layaway sooner. And you can’t get much cheaper than ramen.”

  “That’s the truth.” He’d singlehandedly kept the company in business for years. But why did she need to save up to buy new boots? She drove a Mercedes. Why didn’t she have access to Daddy’s fat bank account or credit card?

  What about a rich boyfriend?

  Until now, he hadn’t considered the possibility of her having a boyfriend, rich or otherwise. Hell, until today, he couldn’t have cared less. But now… yeah, now he wondered.

  “You’re doing that zoned-out trance thing again,” she said, breaking into his thoughts. “What’s on your mind?”

  There wasn’t any way to ask what was on his mind without being rude, but she’d opened the door so he decided to step through it. “Why do you need to save up for new… anything? Why not let your rich daddy or boyfriend buy them for you?”

  Way to go, Slick. She’ll never catch on to your fishing expedition with that question.

  She crossed her arms tightly over her stomach and her spine snapped arrow straight. Her face, however, turned into a blank mask, showing no emotion. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said flatly. “And my father is in prison, so it’s a little difficult for him to buy me anything.”

  His breath caught in his throat and he blinked a few times, trying to make sense of her words. He thought she’d said her father was in prison, but that couldn’t have possibly been right. Could it?

  When she swallowed roughly and looked away, he realized she’d been expending a tremendous amount of energy to keep her blank face in place, so he must’ve heard right.

  But… prison? If she’d said, My father is an alien who doesn’t believe in worldly possessions, he wouldn’t have been more shocked. He thought of all the news reports on white collar crimes over the past few years and decided her father must’ve fallen into something of that nature.

  “Was he like Bernie Madoff or something?”

  Her mouth smiled, but her eyes remained cold and detached. “No, nothing as innocuous as insider trading. He tried to kill his right-hand man and would-be successor.” Her breath hitched and her mask slipped.

  “Shit, Callie, I had no idea.” He wanted to wrap her up in his arms to comfort her… and then carry her off and spend the rest of the rainy afternoon making her forget the pain he’d just caused.

  Jesus, get a grip.

  He couldn’t do a damned thing about the other circumstances in her life, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to follow through on his ridiculous urges, but he could save her from a horrible, gassy fate that was sure to follow her brownbag lunch. “C’mon, go with me instea
d of eating”—he pointed to the bag—“that.”

  She turned, prepared to strike—probably because she thought his offer stemmed from pity and she was too proud for charity, another point in her favor—but he put his hand up to cut off her rejection.

  “You saved me this morning.” She rolled her eyes. “Seriously, I haven’t been that hung-over in a long time. Your quirky remedy worked wonders, so I owe you.”

  She pressed her lips together, clearly not buying his bullshit, but when she cut her eyes to the brown bag, he knew he had her. “Okay, you win.” Her grin was quick as she ducked her head, seemingly embarrassed by her quick capitulation. “Where are we going?”

  “Didn’t they just open a Five Guys Burgers and Fries about a mile down the road?”

  Her face lit up and her brown eyes widened with excitement. “Yes. I’ve never been to one but always wanted to.”

  He was surprised by her excitement to try out the burger joint and terrified by the pleasure he took from making her happy.

  Food… food was good. It would clear out the residual effects of the alcohol causing him to act in such a weird, reckless, unpredictable way. He should also call Mercy, or one of his other friends-with-benefits, to see about a late-night hookup to work off some of his pent-up sexual heat, because this line of thinking where Callie was concerned was completely out of hand and unacceptable.

  Chapter Three

  As they made the short ride from The Bellamy to Five Guys, Callie forced herself to ignore how much space Wade took up in the seat, the way the interior of the work truck carried his unique scent, or the condensation forming on the windows. The patches of fog reminded her of the scalding hot car scene from Titanic, and the urge to recreate the scene, here and now, had her shifting uncomfortably in the seat.

  Lord, her head was a hot mess, and not just because the rain and humidity had turned her natural curls into a tangled rat’s nest. Her cranial scrambled eggs had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the perplexing man beside her. The morning started off as she expected, with Wade being surly and gruff. But as the day wore on, his hostility lessened and gradually slid down the scale to… something else.

  However, because of her limited experience with men and her inability to see situations clearly, she couldn’t figure out what the something else was. In direct proportion to his lessening wildebeest impression, she caught rare glimpses of his true nature, things she’d never been privileged to see before. Like the soul-deep kindness that radiated from his eyes when he was concerned about her hurting herself by trying to lift too much. Or the way his soft, sensual lips pulled higher on one side when he smiled, giving him the appearance of a mischievous little boy.

  An impression that was quickly dispelled when the eye wandered lower than his mouth. One look at his large, hard body proved there was absolutely nothing boyish about Wade Neumann.

  He also seemed to be noticing her in a way he never had before, and based on the scowl that usually followed one of his heated glances, he wasn’t pleased about the newfound interest.

  Callie had a reputation for being a prude, and she’d never been more dismayed about the validity of that reputation than now. If she were like Jen—whose moral compass had been zapped by the same unknown forces that caused planes and ships to disappear in the Bermuda Triangle—she’d know exactly what to do to capture and hold his attention.

  But she wasn’t like Jen, and she was clueless.

  She’d had a few casual boyfriends over the years, but never anything serious. They’d all been nothing more than slot-fillers for Gavin, her father’s protégé and the only man she’d ever loved. Or what she thought had been love. After realizing her parents’ marriage was nothing more than one of her father’s orchestrations and recognizing Gavin wasn’t actually the man she thought him to be, she doubted she knew anything about love.

  Or herself, for that matter.

  Her last kind-of-sort-of-not-really boyfriend, Jason, came into her life as her world crumbled. He was an incredible friend who constantly reassured her there wasn’t anything wrong with her, that some things just weren’t meant to be. He’d repeated it often enough she’d started to believe him, and then he helped her restore her faith in herself and rebuild her self-esteem. She was still a work in progress, but she was light-years ahead of where she’d been two years ago.

  While Jason had been, and remained, a great friend, they didn’t have the chemistry necessary for sustaining a romantic relationship. Part of that stemmed from her belief he was just plain too nice. As ridiculous as that sounded, even to herself, she wanted someone with more layers, not someone who always wore a million-watt smile because they never had a bad day. She wanted someone like Gavin, who was mostly content but wasn’t afraid to show emotion when pissed off or frustrated… Because face it, life wasn’t always perfect.

  It took her a while to figure out exactly what she wanted, but she’d recently realized the elusive quality she sought was passion. Someone who displayed a passion for life, but more importantly, a passion for her. A man whose look could sear her… or heal her, whichever she needed at the time.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  Wade’s voice, softer than usual and laced with concern, startled her and broke her dashboard stare. He had his keys in his hand, ready to exit the truck, and she hadn’t even noticed they’d stopped. Jeez, now who was zoning out?

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” Pleased to hear the lie sounded believable, she added a quick-flash smile for emphasis.

  Ready to escape her thoughts and the painful emotions they dredged up, she grabbed her purse, shoved the door open, and bolted for the safety of the restaurant. However, as Wade quietly followed her inside and paid for lunch, her uneasiness grew. Her mind began processing this as a date, which wasn’t only ridiculous, but dangerous.

  Wade was dangerous.

  From all she knew of him and had seen, not just today, but since their first meeting, he had wide and deep layers like she’d been searching for. He wasn’t afraid to express his opinion; over the past year, he’d made his extreme dislike for her crystal clear. His alpha nature reeked of sexual prowess and confidence that drew her to him like a curious kitten creeping up on the elusive and ever-changing light of a laser pointer. And she didn’t doubt for a second his intensity carried through in everything he did, from his job to his play to his personal relationships.

  Which made him completely out of her league.

  Besides, they’d just barely started being civil toward each other, and she still wasn’t sure exactly what his sidelong glances—the ones that started at her toes and ended at her mouth—meant.

  However, if he didn’t eat like an animal and continued to be kind, she knew she’d find herself lying in bed, tossing and turning and conjuring all sorts of wild fantasies about him, because that’s what she did when she was attracted to someone.

  And, unfortunately, no man had ever lived up to the hype.

  *

  It had been nearly twenty-four hours since Wade last ate, and it took every ounce of willpower not to go face down on the butcher block table and scarf up his bacon cheeseburger and Cajun fries like the starving Georgia Bulldog he was at heart. But rather than give in to his gluttonous urge, he forced himself to slow down, keep his face off the table, and use his hands like the well-mannered man his mama raised.

  However, even on his best behavior, he still finished his meal in half the time of Callie.

  Damn, that was a great burger.

  He wiped his mouth with his napkin, balled it up, and dropped it on the grease-laden burger wrapper, then stretched his legs out so his feet slid under her side of the booth.

  Fifteen minutes… just fifteen minutes of shuteye would knock off the lingering effects of the tequila and beer. And oh yeah, don’t forget the friggin’ apple pie moonshine. He rubbed his hands over his face and yawned as he rested his head on the back of the booth.

  “Looks like you didn’t get much sleep last night
and could use a nap.”

  He cracked his eyes open and watched as Callie sucked in a breath and pressed her lips together. With a huff, she dropped her gaze to the table and fiddled with a fry, then dragged it through a mound of ketchup before tossing it into her mouth. She seemed to be working hard to keep her focus on her food and not him, and his super-sized ego wondered if she was fishing for personal information.

  Interesting.

  Damn, it felt good to be able to tell the truth, rather than a watered-down version of how he normally spent his evenings. “I desperately need a nap.” He yawned and rubbed his face again and pulled himself out of his slouch. “Sorry. I have friends in town on vacation. They lay around and sleep all day, gearing up for another round, while I schlep my worn-out ass around and try to work. And usually fail miserably. It happens every year. You’d think I’d get better or smarter, but I never do.”

  She laughed and nodded. “I understand how that goes. My best friends, Jen and Tiffany, don’t work, so they don’t understand why I go home early on weeknights. Although, to be fair, I didn’t used to get it either, so I can’t get too upset with them.”

  Without allowing himself to put much thought into why it mattered, or why he was interested, he used the opportunity as an opening to learn more about her. “How do you normally spend your evenings?”

  “I spend a lot of time with Jen and Tiffany, either going out to clubs or hanging out at mine or Tiffany’s condo. If I’m not with them, I work on one of my projects. She grinned sheepishly. “Or I lie on the couch and watch TV.”

  He found it endearing she was embarrassed about being a couch potato, especially since he hadn’t expected a whole lot more from her in the first place. At least not until this morning. Now that he’d gotten to know her better, he felt bad about his rush to judgment. “What kind of projects?”

  She took another bite of her burger and a big gulp of her sweet tea. “I restore old furniture. Well, not exactly restore. I usually give the pieces a fresh coat of paint to liven them up but rarely restore them to their original look.”